Click Follow 6.27.2014


I’ve new ideas about

How to get out

My stuff.

(Get my stuff out?)

It seems it’s not enough

To write and publish.

I feel foolish

Begging you


Click a little ink-black cross

That’s followed by the designation

Follow (it sounds shallow, hollow)

But, it seems the little cross

Is boss!

Not vanity,

This wish to be read and enjoyed,

Not popularity;

Just read. We are

Communicating puppets buoyed

By wishes inexplicable.

So click.

It isn’t difficult.


Click Follow 6.27.2014

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Circling Round Computers;

Arlene Corwin




What Is 6.24.2014

What Is


A point of light and inside, love.

Knowledge that we cannot know,

Knowledge that we do:

What is. A thing whose energy itself is bliss;

(For us the height of happiness)

Peace and mercy (even when the thing looks bad);

Power never ending, always made;

And light that’s conscious –

That’s the best: the consciousness.


It can’t be born.

It never is.

It cannot die.

It never does.

It doesn’t do

And yet

It is itself a giver,

Right down to its un-existing liver.


Who is what is who?

I do not know.

Not born, not dying:

Entitled to big letter I;

Incorporeal, yet pleased no matter what.

An oceanic jet, cascade; a spring of virtue.

Back to that:

It is [in fact] the solitary thing that’s true.


What Is 6.6.2010/revised 6.24.2014

Circling Round Reality; Nature Of & In Reality; To The Child Mystic II; God Book;

Arlene Corwin

When You’re Not At Home 6.24.2014

When You’re Not At Home


When you’re not at home

I do my yoga, learn more tunes,

Play piano,

Listen to

The radio,

Write, edit, closing wounds

To grow,

Expressing sounds

That no one hears but birds and cat

And God knows what.


When you are at home

I fall into my housewife mode:

Planning meals, peeling onions,

Taking care to find your mood

Without intruding,

Asking what you’re feeling,

What you want, including

What you’d like to watch or eat.

I turn into good company.


I am impressed with I, myself and me.


When You’re Not At Home 5.3.2007/revised 6.24.2014

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Love Relationships II; Circling Round Yoga II;

Circling Round Woman;

Arlene Corwin

Dancing Under The Sunny Midnight Light 6.21.2014

Dancing Under The Sunny Midnight Light


June twenty-one;

Swed-on; the night

Is sun.


Cannot call it night

When light is on the run.

Night comes when suns go down.

Midsummer June:

With crown of flowers

In her hair,

All young fair maidens,

Young fair men

Stay up till dawn,

The morn without definition.


June 21, 2014

Interpreting Signs 6.21.2014

Interpreting Signs
A fine insight into the aging, changing self.

Remarkable Reality 6.20.2014

Remarkable Reality


A button, key

To tuck away reality

That could have been.

You video your playing

Filled with errors, notes you never

Would perform if there were

People present.

You delete.

Reality has been.

But you can hit the button,

Run away, correct, pretend

It never happened.

No one saw/need see

Until you’re letter free:

Faultless, flawless, seamless,

Your reality recorded and erased,

The moment secret in its weakness

While your brain’s knows three:

Before, an after

Or a chosen never.

Delete. Delight.

Repeat till ripe

To reap a new reality,

The old, once known

Paused, gone.


Remarkable Reality (found on a scrap dated 8.16.2013 )revised 6.20.2014

Circling Round Computers;

Arlene Corwin

One Way Or Another 6.16.2014

One Way Or Another


One way or the other

Mind winds, twirls, coils slowly,

Folds itself in preparation.

I, the center, taking in

Whole starving continents,

Shark fins

Hacked. Millions slain,

Left drowning for their fiscal gain;

Death all around in possibility and fact.

Hypothesis and actuality

Tease, freeze the thoughtful. We

(the royal we) are not the least bit pleased!

Of course, ‘we’s little me,

Hidden by a cheerful personality.


Abstruse, but trust me – it’s of use –

We are but phases,

Layers: sun sign, moon sign,

What’s on

The horizon

At your time of birth;

The outer, inner – in this case,

A sunny outer, gloom/doom inner:

Nakedness, my makéd-ness,

Reminding with a constancy

Death’s palpability

In one way or the other.


One Way Or Another 6.16.2014

Birth, Death & In Between II;

Arlene Corwin



Am I Really Bad? (after reading about America’s new poet laureate) 6.14.2014

Am I Really Bad?

(after reading about Charles Wright –

named America’s Poet laureate two days ago)


Am I really bad?


Because I feel the beat

Up to my



Use pronoun I

When I is definitely out? I try

To skimp on adjectives,

Shave words

To not disturb

A decent verb.

But there are buts and ands

And linking cons-

That juncture –itises:

An irritation to all poets.


I feel as if it’s good;

Some of it good,

Say, out of ten there’s one –

But certainly not none!

Am I bad without the really?

It was just the other day I thought a genie came to live with me.

It’s ok,

You can say it like it is!

I can take it.


Am I Really Bad? 6.14.2014

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative;

Arlene Corwin





Reading My 12th Book (Circling Round Nature) 6.12.2014

Reading My Twelfth Book


I may have genius living in my house,

Renting out some secret room.

I read my book of poetry. Some

Me I do not recognize:

A memory I’ve no mem’ry of;

An unfamiliar work where every

Word sparked wonder.

“Is it me, I wondered, underlying all of this?”

Each syllable, each metric notion,

Depth of oceans fathomless –

This poetry was mine:

Really fine.

Skimming pages in the book

I almost did not want to look –

That person there with observations I don’t have;

Oblations for the saving

[Of mankind].

Stumped, mystified,

This reader more than satisfied,

Not vanity or pride, but riddle;

Feeling little in the face of something bigger.

Who had scribbled all these pages?

Who is liege

Of hand, pen, brain?

It is a mystery –

And who am I?


Twelfth Book 6.12.2014

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;

Arlene Corwin


A Birthday Letter In Bad Rhyme & Bad Meter 6.10.2014

A Birthday Letter To You in Bad Rhyme And Bad Meter


Dear dear Otto,

It’s near impossible

To think of anything original

Without using motto, manifesto

Or cliché –


If and when you come one day

When we can celebrate together –

Rich gateau and lathers

Of whipped cream

(I dream

Of lathers of whipped cream),

We’ll wish you all the best,

The healthiest

Of days

And years.


(Doesn’t the change from -4 to -5 seem strange?

Wait till you get

To eight-


And you’ll see.




With much love,

Arlene & Kent

June 10, 2014


A Birthday Letter To You In Bad Rhyme & Bad Meter 6.10.2014

Birthday Book;

Arlene Corwin





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