Lover And Beloved

Seldom examined.

           LOVER AND BELOVED✍️💕

The lover and the lov-ee –
Is there any difference ‘tween the two in any way?
It’s a question that occurred to me this morning
As I was about to start the day.
I have been both.
Each in truth.
I have been loved unqualifiedly,
And I have loved with and without reciprocality.
But never have I looked into the role each play.
If I think philosophically
Or even spiritually
One gives the tools of love for free.

Love shouldn’t have to love me in return.
Of course it hurts to spurn, be spurned,
Be burned, un-yearned for.
Yet, there’s something in love’s definition
Which demands unself-ing self from love’s addiction:
Both ob- and subject unconditional.

You man object to parts or all
Of what I call love and lov-ee.
Love has no ownership, you must agree.
Yet me and you
Will always be
A never disappearing two.
And two must always keep identity.

Be that as it may,
What you would not want for yourself
You ought to want for others:
Friend or foe, brother, lover
Which, in this case is subject, object, project of this little poem.
Love should feel like home, not tomb or catacomb.
Cozy, comfortable and peaceful,
Agreeable, relaxed un-needful, un-deceitful.

I’m thinking, in the end, there should be
Little difference between giving and receiving love,
Each role a wingéd dove
That flies from me to you and you to me.
For free,
as said.

Lover And Beloved 2.16.2019 Love Relationships II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Another Autobiographcal Anomaly

A much better version: ✍️

 ANOTHER AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL ANOMALY✍️

My memory, how is it working?
Reconstructing what I will,
But no matter how I will it,
Using tricks or keeping still,
It goes downhill while lurking.

Mostly, I can’t get the date
Or the event – details I railed at,
Smiled or wailed at.
Where I laid the pen just used;
That is NOT amusing.

Histamine.
I read that histamine boosts memory.
Priority.
What do I prioritise with ear, nose, eye?

My husband tells a story
But his story and the history keep changing.
Joke? Sheer smoke? based on illusion
And projection?
He’s an honest man.
Why change the plan or plane?
How to help boost our brain?
Enigma and for some a stigma.

Diet, food:
The marvel is the wondrous good
It does in spite
Of all the things we don’t do right.
We’re losing neurons constantly
From ages six- or seventy.

Exercise:
Training. Learning.. Instrument.
Being bent on any- something!
For just about all/everything is heaven sent.
That’s what I read
And what I think,
And where my intuition and my instinct lead.

Anyway, this poem is just another way to do it.
Renewing bits with any course available,
And one in which a syllable will stick.
The main thing is to get a kick
Out of the rhythmic lyric of our life.
Yes?

Another Autobiographical Anomaly 2.11.2019 Pure Nakedness II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Happy & Handsome

Photo discovered on Facebook’s ‘memories’. Wow!😀🥰😍

Happy & Handsome💕📸

Someone took a photo: a man & wife photo.
A charming libretto, bel canto, a logo
For gladness and love.
She looked so happy and he looked so handsome.
The whole photo sunny, the whole photo winsome.

As poet I thought, “now therein’s a title”
And so it began, the pondering whittling
An essence and extract distilled from above.

Simple and peaceful, the pair almost playful
And prayerful, the photo caught all.
Stability shone through. Harmony too.
Cheer bursting through to complete all the virtues.

Someone took a photo which wound up on Facebook.
A picture to spread to the heart with a lace like
Impression of sweetness.

We thank you whoever…wherever you are
To take such a photo and make it a star.

Happy&Handsome 2.12.2019 Love Relationships II; Arlene Nover Corwin

The Whole Of Sweden’s Wearing Beards

The Whole of Sweden’s Wearing Beards

The whole of Sweden wears a beard.
Dare I say weird?
To go around all day un-sheared!
That, combined with bods tattooed:
Chest, breast, throat
And not a centimeter nude
(As made in God’s good world).
I am confused.
A new prosthetic? Possibly.
Aesthetic? Frequently.
A thing to lean upon,
Confirm an ego and/or vanity
That ought to go,
But no, it can’t,
The tattoo being permanent!
Beards! What are they there for?
To hide the origin of doubled chin – one just beginning?
Arctic winter?
Saving shaving?
What’s it for?
Why would one want one hair more!

I wouldn’t want to kiss a beard:
Whirly, curly,
Itchy, scratchy…
None a match for girlie me.
They’re dominating TV;
Interviewers, program leaders.
All I want are clean-cut readers.

One day someone just appeared
And pioneered a new grown beard.
A new veneer
Had filled the sphere: a fad was born;
The bearded fashion was in action.

I am waiting till it passes,
And the fashion turns to glasses
Or an emphases on ar___s.
Who can say?
The Whole Of Sweden’s Wearing Beards 6.17.2018 A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Our Times, Our Culture II; Swedish Book; Arlene Nover Corwin

Doing It All

Yup or nope?🤔

   Doing It All

I’m doing it all:
Publishing, editing,
Righting the meter,
Developing theme
Which I may or not rhyme:

To modify, reappraise,
Scanning with laser eyes
Hours, days, weeks…
Because I often tinker, I, thinker, re-thinker,
With no one to help;
I, the pulp, flesh and bones,
The one going it on my own
Out of conviction.
Aspiring and prodding,
From something I posit
A living supposéd
And let us say,
God.

Codicil:
In each of the instances writing this poem,
Perhaps not “alone” and deprived of assistance
Since I’m the one citing someone
As my cicerone.
Maybe I’m not the one doing it all.

Doing It All 1.10.2019 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Long Gone

I was reading Jazz Wax (a great site written by Marc Myers: highly recommended) where he was telling me that two of the ‘famous’ clubs I worked in in New York were ‘long gone’. I thought ‘long gone’ was a perfect title and so set immediately to work. This may not be the best of poetry. It only took me 20 minutes or so. But I like it anyway.


LONG GONE🎹👩‍🎤


I read about the clubs I worked in;
New York clubs where I began.
Read their names, which throw me back
To days of playing nine to one
Or ten to two, 45 long minutes on
And fifteen minutes off;
A long, long night to play my stuff,
Smiing, singing soul and heart,
Playing changes I hoped smart,
And always learning and collecting songs:
Now those clubs are all long gone.
I suppose we all have places, people,
We call gone.
Ones which spawned one’s present form;
Times we were a pawn of time
And didn’t have a clue to climes
And days to come.
I don’t look back.
It’s not my nature.
All were steps: a nomenclature,
Nothing more.
I’ve put it all to pasture,
My reality a better now.
On the other hand,
These ‘long gones’ helped me grow.
I wouldn’t be if they’d not been.
Still singing, playing ‘spite the wrinkles.
Learning tunes that make me tingle.
All that ‘long gone’ was my own,
Reminiscing just an hour of fun.
Thank you fate and karma
For the way you form the day
And what it means, meant, leads to
In completing all one’s needs.


Long Gone 2.9.2019 Pure Nakedness II; Arlene Nover Corwin
1 Comment

Long Gone

I was reading Jazz Wax (a great site written by Marc Myers: highly recommended) where he was telling me that two of the ‘famous’ clubs I worked in in New York were ‘long gone’. I thought ‘long gone’ was a perfect title and so set immediately to work. This may not be the best of poetry. It only took me 20 minutes or so. But I like it anyway.

         LONG GONE🎹👩‍🎤

I read about the clubs I worked in;
New York clubs where I began.
Read their names, which throw me back
To days of playing nine to one
Or ten to two, 45 long minutes on
And fifteen minutes off;
A long, long night to play my stuff,
Smiing, singing soul and heart,
Playing changes I hoped smart,
And always learning and collecting songs:
Now those clubs are all long gone.

I suppose we all have places, people,
We call gone.
Ones which spawned one’s present form;
Times we were a pawn of time
And didn’t have a clue to climes
And days to come.

I don’t look back.
It’s not my nature.
All were steps: a nomenclature,
Nothing more.
I’ve put it all to pasture,
My reality a better now.
On the other hand,
These ‘long gones’ helped me grow.
I wouldn’t be if they’d not been.

Still singing, playing ‘spite the wrinkles.
Learning tunes that make me tingle.
All that ‘long gone’ was my own,
Reminiscing just an hour of fun.
Thank you fate and karma
For the way you form the day
And what it means, meant, leads to
In completing all one’s needs.

Long Gone 2.9.2019 Pure Nakedness II; Arlene Nover Corwin

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