Re-reading 2012



I’m in the process of re-reading,

And I see that I’m not tough enough,

Stuck in the frame of poetry,

It’s all too kind,

Although I thought when wind was up

That I was being rough and tough,

Dangerous, hard-hitting, harsh.

Now I see, it’s paper pap; mush.

I see I’m a marshmallow.

Next step:

Re-reading means re-writing –

Themes the same (because that’s me)

But biting, better and not butter,

Battering the rams against the thing

I’m fighting for.

Goodbye subtlety.

To hell with poetry.

For instance, I was reading

What I wrote on greed.

It was tippy, tippy toed.

Now I know, greed is greed:

Ravenous and hungry, self-indulgent.

All it wants and needs is more.

Craving, it knows no restraint.

A spade’s a spade,

And as I said,

I plan to call it that.

If poetry, may it not be

A patronizing softly, softly…

Who am I intent on moving,

Who do I intend to serve with verse

Of such a measly nerve?

No one?  Someone?

That’s the question!


Re-reading 9.8.2012

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;

Arlene Corwin



Everything A Rubberband 2012

         Everything A Rubber Band


Everything’s a rubber band –

Even psyche.

Everything can stretch and bend,

Given time and phase and use.

Doing yoga, keep in mind:

Every muscle, nerve and tendon.

Even bone

Bends to your service

If you work it

Long enough and without force.

Every movement on your level –

Not his, hers, theirs but yours.

In the end it’s all a level

Knowledge, building upon

Strong suits; weakness.

Rubber band,

Yes, yes and yes.


Everything A Rubber Band 9.7.2012

Circling Round Yoga;

Arlene Corwin






Everyone 2012



Everyone likes sex –

More or less.

Everyone has breasts –

Less or


Everyone a fifi (pronounced feefee) –

Or a wiwi (pronounced weewee)

More or less.

Everyone needs love

Not ‘likes’ or ‘has’ but needs  .

It’s not a question of how much,



Of course,

It’s obvious.


To summarize

There is

An everyone

To which and whom

The last applies.

With no exception.


Everyone 9.23.2012

Love Relationships; Circling Round Eros II;

Arlene Corwin

More For My God Book

More For My God Book


Always teaching,

Leaching out unhealthy things.

Teaching while I,



Voice it onto paper,

Artless and poetic tricks capering

From cause internal.

A role,

And You cajoling,

Inspiring by means

That come from anything

That comes my way,

Reasoning provided by

An everyday  existence.

You, perhaps a spark

In the heavens,

I, perhaps a measly clerk,

A pen at hand,

Low IQ’d envoy

To say that You’re there.


More For God Book 9.27.2012

God Book; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;

Arlene Corwin





City In The Long Run

City In The Long Run


From countryside in Härryda*,

I saw a movie on TV.

The New York City profile;

An upbeat risk in capital.

Bids and bets –

That’s what it is.

And when it fails,

The city falls.

I saw it in the skyline light,

The neighborhood where I come from

Become a slum…

The slums become rich real estate,

The shifting forms a losing dream;

The wastes of tastes

Tossed in a barrel

Of supposed fun that’s run

On money and urbanity;

Foreseeable in all too much complexity.

The city must end up a ruin.

(remember Ozymandias).

The city-thought can never win.

How long is in the long run?


But of course I could be wrong.


The City 9.26.2012

Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin


*Härryda – a small town in Sweden

Towards Completion 2012

              Towards Completion


It’s been said to young and old or old or new –

Or even you

Who have most likely thought it through.

(Yet I say it in

                           good conscience yet again):

A friend whom I love dearly, nearly


Waiting still for inspiration

(Call it what you will)

To manifest the latent

Force of talent that is his,

Thrusting it or sneaking it

Upon a world-in-waiting

(not that it knows that it’s waiting).

Skating, as he does

Upon an ice of suds

My earnest hope is that it sud(s)denly

Reveals what has

Been there always

Or whenever First Time was

(which point of view is up to you)

Where talent, character and fate


My friend is waiting –

Not for end but for beginning –

Maybe for a route to open.


As I said, it’s all been said!

But one more time (both clean and new)

To someone young, old, new – or you,

Waiting and creating go together

Like the birds of feather that they are.

Waiting is not sitting still,

Or discontinuing the will

But a station for creation:


Towards completion.


Towards Completion 9.23.2012

Special People, Special Occasions; Definitely Didactic;  The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;

Arlene Corwin


Country Life

Country Life


You wouldn’t think much happens here,

But I’m reminded as I write

That drama of the magnitude

Of Shakespeare’s tragedies unite,

Not open to the public.

Frogs are flattened,

Deer are drowned,

Dogs go lost,

Trees are downed –

Magnificent, gigantic things,

Significant beyond their rings.

Fledglings never get to fly,

Snakes are dropped from out the sky.

Desperate bees glassed-in in pain,

Looking, never finding ‘out’ –

You’d never guess

That in the neat and cared-for grass

The cat that sleeps here as I write

Becomes the reaper of the night –

A Jack the Ripper, skilled and heartless

Stalking, lurking, lurching –

Never dream that cosmic struggles

Make their place right here

Where battlegrounds and contests jeer

At life’s apparent concord.

Country life –

The quiet life

Where nothing seems to happen;

Let me tell you…


Country Life 9.7.2004

Circling Round Nature; Birth, Death & In Between; Cat Book;

Arlene Corwin

Can Opener Syndrome

Can Opener Syndrome

The latest question:

Why can

 My can


Not un-can

When wrist and thumb,

Which work un-fumbling,

Grip and turn,

And in return

Get zilch – a piece of metal,


Spurting in my face,

Its contents teasing, visible,

Its filling inaccessible

And unobtainable.  I hate

Those days.

Can Opener Syndrome 10.18.2009

 Birth, Death & In Between; Circling Round Wrinkles;

Arlene Corwin

Listening To The Politicians 2012

Listening To The Politicians Or,

We All Want More


The problem is, everyone justifies.

Everyone does it, everyone can.

Defensible, backed up by theories,

It all should function,

Succeed. But it doesn’t.

Numbers, statistics,

Trends end in a partial…

Some truth, much more left –

No theory covers the whole.

Do they know it, admit it?

Laying out budgets, distributing wealth,

Why not admit that the whole is a half

Or a quarter, an eighth?

None of it works.

Are they fools?

Are we jerks?

With the best of intentions,

There are no solutions

But one – and that’s part.

Reducing, contracting and drawing in:

That is a start.


Listening To The Politicians 4.15.2008/8.2.2012

Our Times, Our Culture II; Definitely Didactic;

Arlene Corwin

A Biological Consideration 2012

         A Biological Consideration


I fooled age (well, thought I did)

And thought I could,

But age caught up.

Joint yelled; one swelled;

Odd ache;

Asleep, one woke – awake

Sometimes one hour in the night,

Sometimes each second, third…

The point is, nature took a bite

Out of what used to be sleep’s time right.

Talk of ‘bite’, the gums fell sick,

As if a clock that sat unwound

Had suddenly begun to tick,

And teeth so white, and tooth so sound

Began to loosen, wear away and quite

Alarmingly to beige,

The coffee too, revealing age.

Each year a badge,

A token sign that shocks

From witlessness and past abuse;

Naiveté, where unseen clocks

Expose a you, you thought was them.

Fascinated by these signs,

Symptoms that I feel and see;

Mirrors that show lines

I must repeatedly accept as me;

Coup d’états, shifting sands:

Pre-determined sleights of hand –

They haven’t stopped.

Steeped in aging’s out-of-step,

Expecting to accept more yet;

Giving up the role of Thor,

Accepting to expect yet more.

One just surrenders for,

One must.



A Biological Consideration 2.2.1999/re-worked 5.22.2011/reworked for Birth, Death & InBetween 8.27.2012

Circling Round Woman; Circling Round Nature; Nature In & Of Reality; Circling Round Time II; Birth, Death & InBetween;

Arlene Corwin


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