Book of Numbers 2013

                 Book Of Numbers


Did you know you were born

On Tuesday, nineteen thirty-eight,

At ten past midnight,

Dear Linnea knew;

At her happiest with you inside

Did you know she

Considered it

The finest

Of her pregnancies;


        happy months, a Kent inside;

Her pride,

Her joy,

Her second born,

Her tranquil boy.

So many things one doesn’t ponder:

Life before the now & here.


Can you picture

Digits seventy & five

Now part of you?

Your cue to live

Defining who you are & what you do,

Refining these things too.

Remembering the happy birth that just a few

Have been as privileged as you.


May all your days be filled with jazz,

Mastering the longest phrase

And playing faster with each hand

On your white glossy Kwai grand.


May your tender heartbeat beat

Until you are one hundred eight.

The happiest of all the birthdays

You have had to date!


Book Of Numbers 1.29.2013

Birthday Book; Numbers Book;

Arlene Corwin




The World As Just Awareness 2013

The World As Just Awareness


Quarks or chaos,

Strings, black holes;

The fractal inward, outward endlessness;

From wings that flap

Sequencing chains:

Butterfly that reigns

Over the links that form;

Your being there in lab or room

(It’s all a lab as soon as you appear – just enter).

Whatsoever you perceive or measure

May or may not be.

(In which case,

What is it I see?)


World that’s awesome



Maya?* Lila?**




*Maya – in Hinduism, the material world, considered in reality to be an illusion.

**Lila – Sanskrit; existence with all its changes considered to be God’s play.


The World As Just Awareness 1.21.2013

Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Reality;

Arlene Corwin



All I Can Do Is Watch 2013

All I Can Do Is Watch

I hesitate these days

To stick in pronoun one                                

Instead of using I.

(It isn’t ‘in’ in poetry

To use the pronoun I).


All anyone can do

Is watch while right arm wrinkles

From one day to next.



Nature toying

With done youth;

Gone youth.

Emergent skin tone

Snake design and turtle shell

Fish’s scale, jigsaw puzzle,

Earth’s own map

(I’m horrible at similes – and no ability to rap)

All I can do is watch a bit,

Say “shit” under my breath

And look away.


All I Can Do Is Watch 1.25.2013

Circling Round Time II; Circling Round Egos; Circling Round Nature;

I Is Always You Is We; Nature Of & In Reality;

Blues In The Winter 1995/2013

Blues In The Winter

This is the time to reflect on your karma,

It’s laws: this to that and choices that suit.

Time to reflect over dharma,

Your flaws; how the causes bear fruit;

This is the time for the un’s and the non’s:

Unflustered, unuffled, non-violent dispute.

Look at continuum’s window of nature:

Trees letting go of their leaves without fuss,

Grieve-less their rustle;

Adjusting to autumn and shortening days

Taking the lengthening rays and not

One mumbled moan about dying awhile.

We, kicking, screaming and dreaming up loss,

Cross out repose,

Our missile 

                        of brightness.

This is the time…

Blues In The Winter 10.4.1995/revised 1.24.2013

Circling Round Nature; I Is Always You Is We; Definitely Didactic;

Arlene Corwin

Dangerous Room 2013

Dangerous Room

The living room

(Perhaps not yours)

Is dangerous.

The TV’s there,

The couch is there.

Soft chair, soft rug,

A fireplace;

Once there one’s stuck,

Screen struck.  Disgraceful!

Led so easily

By superficialities,

One sits and looks,

Books left behind

In favor of – it doesn’t matter:

Interruptions and distractions,

High-tech gadgets and unnatural

Environments: attention-grabbers all.

Dangerous room:

Too coom-fortable.


Dangerous Room 1.22.2013

Our Times, Our Culture II; A Sense Of The Ridiculous;

Arlene Corwin

525,600 Minutes 2013

525,600 Minutes

To get it down the first day

Feels important – no, essential.

That gives five hundred and twenty-five

Thousand, six hundred minutes

To attend to the tangential,

Dedicating actions:

I dedicate the morning walk

To you; my makeup and my love

Of face; commit the TV talk,

The foods I’ll eat,

Both veg and meat;

Give up to you the grabbing sin,

The appetites, my place within

The universe.

Now that was terse.

Terse and pointed as a pin;

Terse enough to set the spin

On five two five six naught naught minutes:

Time to get the tasks I set within them


And win.

Publishing The Poetry Chronologically 2013

Publishing The Poetry Chronologically

Just to get it off my chest, or off my files:

Out of the way.

I might, just finally

In some nice form acceptable

Between two covers;

Get it out there –

All the stuff from 40’s on

Through 60, 70, 80, 90,

Till two thousand and its decades

Up to now.

It would be done

The past all printed, future open,

Bundle off my shoulders.

On the other hand, knowing myself

I might fall back, publishing he stuff

All nicely titled and collected,

Just because my leaning is to organize;

Titles make me happy.

Classifying, grouping, clumping:

It’s my inner order romping.

Interior to kitchen sink, ideas

Surprising those who like to think.

The one who knows their secrets is my Self,

The higher on the lower shelf;

From top idea

I’ll flip around my intellect

And see what Buddha lives there,

Publish that.

Publishing The Poetry Chronologically 1.12.2013

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Small Stories Book;

Arlene Corwin


A Nose In My Ear 2013

A Nose In My Ear Or,

(an ageing love song)


Watching Sunday morning TV,

Eating late – toast, egg, and milky coffee,

He leans in and nuzzles me.

(A funny word: to nose-el,

And a funny feeling.)

Have you ever had a nose in ear?

You can no longer hear –

Not for that second.

Somewhat trying and demanding,

But, however, nonetheless,

A candy – ridiculous,

But yes and yes; a sugared kiss.



A Nose In My Ear 1.13.2013

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Circling Round Eros II;

Arlene Corwin


Jurassic Park Unknown 2011

        Jurassic Park Unknown

I’m waiting for the day

When DNA

They’ve saved from poxes that

They won’t destroy

(God all knows why)

The dinosaur they plucked, dug

Out of an egg or mountain –

(I’m too ignorant to know where, how –

Will lead an unpredicted destiny

To cycles, repetitions,

Endings/starts in Time

(Which doesn’t give a damn)

And atom clouds, a darkened sun,

The wheel,

The use of fire…


To you, dear reader,

(You I know, who are informed),

This speculation sillily surplus –

I  had to say it!.


Jurassic Park Unknown 1.3.2011

A Sense of the Ridiculous; Our Times, Our Culture;

Arlene Corwin



The Treasure Under 2013

The Treasure Under


Her journal says:

“The trouble is, the kernel is,

I cannot stop!”

There may not be an Arlene there,


An onion

With no core


One who picks up, picks out phrases,

Ideas that were never



Not perturbed.

The phrases and ideas

A springboard,

That’s what’s precious:

That the treasure.


The Treasure Under 1.5.2013

Pure Nakedness; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;

Arlene Corwin



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