Stealing From Life 2013

There’s nothing in me/ Not really/A soul perhaps/ But ideas?/ They come from everywhere:/each scene seen,/words heard/Then i write,/which feels right,/the only right thing with no rationale/no reason why/the urge itself identifying/who I am.  etc, etc.  to come.

As I write this out it sounds kind of Buddhistic with ‘no me’, but un-Buddhistic because there is a soul.  Do we Jews believe in a soul?  In which case it also sounds Jewish.  Certainly Hindu.  Seen practically, I certainly think that, as I said in a poem once, “nothing comes out of a vacuum”.  So back to Stealing From Life, I think that will be the next one. (But I never can tell).

                  Stealing From Life


There’s nothing in me, not really.

Soul, possibly,

(Well probably); but ideas?

Inklings, maybe,

Vague anticipations/no anticipations…

They come: seeing where it takes a crumb.

Scenes seen, words heard;

Then I write (which feels right)

The only thing to do with nothing cogent

And no reason why,

The urge itself identifying

Who I am,

Its raison d’etre.

(It’s terrific!

What a rush!

What a charge!

What a blast!

The thrill of slang not least.)


Stealing From Life 12.29.2013

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;

Arlene Corwin

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