My Middle Name Is Faith 2001 2004

         My Middle Name Is Faith

It’s not that I don’t like it,

It’s that I’ve not yet embraced it,

Happening as it does, or seems

To do, so quickly overnight.

A process that I still don’t understand – not quite.

An age, the wrong side of the wrong side;

Stronger, weaker, ripened, mellow;

Still a seeker; seasoned fellow

Still preparing.

There are signs of maturation,

Both the rotting and the sprouting,

Yet the outer still concerns me:

Hanging, wrinkling, liver spots,

Graying hair and graying grin,

Growths like grain,

Red blotches, blots

Of pigment loss on what was porcelain;

Dropping off, a muted snore,

Dryness in the privates sore;

Swellings, shrinkings, pills galore –

Costing more

Than they are worth.

It comes so quickly, or it seems to –

Deficits and extra needs

In karmic keeping with the deeds.

Still, it fosters going inwards,

Digging deeper, hunting it;

Hunting something fall- and spring-less,

Everything-ness

In its self.

My middle name is faith.

©My Middle Name Is Faith 4.19.2001 2.5.2004

Circling Round Woman; Time; Circling Round Nature;

Birth, Death & In Between; Circling Round Wrinkles;  Arlene Corwin

 

  

 

More Examination Observation 2002 2004

         More Examination Observation

Sixty eight and something’s new:

Breasts are lower – larger too.

The bad, the good -as usual.

Relatively new, I need new time

To melt into a new quiescence,

Seeing beauty in two breasts

That used to stand and stick right out.

Time to see them not as symbol

When I thought them much too small,

Not as symptom,

But as guests whose fall

Gives rise to modesty,

An I-less anonymity:

A mild, non-thought, non-value thing –

But valued as an old dear Ming,

An autumned spring, a non-inviting flavoring

Enduring, non-alluring, lowering:

Time for giving in.

K. can always see the bright side.

I see death come closer;

Chains and series; night ride

To a darker place.

I’ve got no choice.

(It could be worse.)

It’s time to go from strength to strengths,

From self-display to coming-out

To celebrate an ageing part;

Leave behind the body doubt

And gadding ‘bout

And preening what was only wart

To an arlene-ing of the heart,

The voice and head

Instead.

© More Examination, Observation 02.8.7 (revised04.9.20)

Circling Round Nature; Circling Round Woman; Nature In & Of Reality;

Birth, Death & In Between; I Is Always You Is We; Pure Nakedness; Time;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

Sixty eight and something’s new:

Breasts are lower – larger too.

The bad, the good -as usual.

Relatively new, I need new time

To melt into a new quiescence,

Seeing beauty in two breasts

That used to stand and stick right out.

Time to see them not as symbol

When I thought them much too small,

Not as symptom,

But as guests whose fall

Gives rise to modesty,

An I-less anonymity:

A mild, non-thought, non-value thing –

But valued as an old dear Ming,

An autumned spring, a non-inviting flavoring

Enduring, non-alluring, lowering:

Time for giving in.

K. can always see the bright side.

I see death come closer;

Chains and series; night ride

To a darker place.

I’ve got no choice.

(It could be worse.)

It’s time to go from strength to strengths,

From self-display to coming-out

To celebrate an ageing part;

Leave behind the body doubt

And gadding ‘bout

And preening what was only wart

To an arlene-ing of the heart,

The voice and head

Instead.

Midsummer Party #1 #2 2002 2004

              Midsummer Party #1
 
June seventeenth: approaching

Mid-, the height, the longest, light,

A day which, catching hold

Of loss and cold,

Is time that never can recur –

Day never coming back;

A sun that stays up all the night

And on till dawn

With eating, drinking, friends, the pack

Carousing light-night long

To joke and celebrate the wait-for-what:

A curtain that for certain

Falls or opens summer’s tent.

             Midsummer Party #2

June seventeenth:

Approaching mid; the height;

The longest, lightest day.

And I am hit,

Encompassed by a hint

Of loss,

The tint of cold,

Of one more year;

Of age foretold,

And days one never can get back:

Time that cannot return.

June seventeenth: the main concern:

Eating, drinking, friends, the pack

Of relatives; to celebrate

And stay up late.

And here I sit up with the solstice:

Life in death’s becoming.

Flirting and forgetting laws:

High; low; the effects of cause.

Midsummer party:

Curtain waiting for a fall;

We, not thinking that we’re running out of funny hats,

Unending years and festivals.

© Midsummer Party original 02.6.17/ recomposed04.1.21Circling Round Nature; Birth, Death & In Between; Time; Nature In & Of Reality;  Arlene Corwin

Manipulating Time 2002

                    Manipulating Time

 Manipulating Time

Into [time]

[Time] in two

In tune [with time]

Time deep in self –

Deep in and out of nowhere

That prolongs,

Contracts,

Manipulating for more room

Within its frame. How nice!

An inexpensive price to pay

For elongating night and day:

Your life; more life to claim;

More time to soar;

More life that’s yours.

©

Manipulating Time 02.5.23 Circling Round Time; Vaguely About Music;  Arlene Corwin 

 

 

Little Pieces of Time 2010

          Little Pieces of Time

Looking back and looking at …

It all amounts to little pieces

Portioned out:

Little chunks of time connected

To the kernel,

Core eternal, temporal.

Looking back and looking at…

No matter how important & life changing

Any luxury or legacy that gave a bit

More comfort, comes to little:

Segments, fractioned out,

Our works, our lives into a kit.

Appear…and disappearance.

Looking back and looking at –

It all amounts to little pieces

Portioned out:

Little chunks of time connected

To the kernel,

Core eternal,

Temporal;

Putting us – our works, our lives –

Into perspective’s kit.

©Little Pieces Of Time 04.2.11(02.2.16  Circling Round Time;   Arlene Corwin

Linnea Is Dying 2010

Linnea Is Dying  Noon June 29,2007

Linnea is dying.

We will honor her

By penning on the hands of Time.

A morphined sleep,

The morphined comfort a reward

In tumored head,

God leading.

We will honor her with poetry –

The written word

A record

For Eternity.

Memories and memory to honor her,

This excellent mother;

Before name is on that stone,

A paper honor of her own.

 

We must honor even it,

The quiet sleep away from life.

Perhaps she goes to heaven’s secrets;

Maybe to return.

 

Higher than all sentiment,

Than tears;

Word’s love expression.

 

Dying –

Never dead.

 

Linnea Is Dying 07.6.07 Birth, Death & In Between; Circling Round Time; Mother Book;    Arlene Corwin

Limitation 2010

          Limitation

Limitation in the cell,

The basic gel;

To learn about,

To use,

Feel affection for and fuse

To feat, deed incomplete;

Limitation, really sweet:

A favor.

 

© Limitation 03.3.25 Birth, Death & In Betweeen; Nature In & Of Reality;   Circling Round Time;   Arlene Corwin

Life’s Work 2010

            Life’s Work

You leave behind a life;

A life is work:

The evidence,

The carried-on,

The shaper of a million souls.

You leave behind importance

And uniqueness.

In the paradox of little-ness,

Anonymous

Amidst the throngs,

The billi-ons,

It is the principle of ripples

That applies.

Spirits rise

Or fall

With you.

©Life’s Work 07.7.28. Birth, Death & In Between; Definitely Didactic;I Is Always You Is We; Nature Of & In Reality;Our Times, Our Culture; Time;  Arlene Corwin

I Don’t Polish Everything 2010

I Don’t Polish Everything

I do not polish everything.

Not furniture, not poetry.

Re-doing and renewing:

That’s not living,

The disparity

May lead to mediocrity.

Ok by me. May be that

That’s what’s meant by me

diocrity.

For then,

When

I am eager,

Coffee influenced or not,

I polish till I’m saturated.

Table, forehead, verse may glisten.

Even-ing the energy, the will and talent.

One-draft-Amadeus was the deity

To do it.

I am not. Sometimes

I polish everything

And sometimes just say, “Screw it!”

 

© I Don’t Polish Everything 7.8.2010 A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Coffee Book;  Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What You Don’t See 2010

What You Don’t See

I never saw the fox

That ate the cat

That showed up last November,

Staying until a December

That was worse than

We around remember;

Cat round-eyed

For which we set out victuals

‘Cause

It would not come inside.

I do not see the day-night Struggles

Between mice,

The birds

And Albert Cat

(the one we’ve gotten since that cat.)

Just feathers, ravaged corpses

Left on grass,

Alas.

I do not see the ghosts

Of beings past

That separate from small

Sweet bodies

Outside my thin walls

While I, who lie in bed

With piles of ladies’magazines to read

Think about the things that

Make us empty.

 

©What I Don’t See 7.19.2010 Birth, Death & In Between; Cat Book; Circling Round Nature;  Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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