Nepal, Nepal

Nepal Nepal


My pen pal friend,

Crying at an end

Of things she can’t again

Take pleasure in.

The never-more-to-be


Creatures caught in nature’s misadventure;

Structures crashed, breathings crushed.

Crèches, mommies, daddies… hushed.

Where to begin?

Muddy roads, road-less mud,

Still to come, the monsoon rain.

Tobacco, tea, the sugarcane

Unthinkable, with after-quakes

The stink of death,

The waiting for…

The dulled response that takes you over.

Everest and Kathmandu,

Buddhist seeker and Hindu,

Aiming high –

All that changed. Now needed: money: M-O-N-E-Y:

Nepalese economy a Nepalese catastrophe.

My pen pal friend has pain that mirrors

Agonies we see on screen.

Gone some thousand years of history,


The Nepalese –

Where do we start? *


Nepal Nepal 5.10.2015

Circling Round Nature II; Birth, Death & In Between II; Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin


*May 12. 2015 As I print this out another earthquake has hit. – 7. 4 just two weeks after the first.





Oh, How I Understand Vanity

Oh, How I Understand Vanity


Oh, how

I now

‘Get’ vanity

And why

It means in vain

And why it is

Hard to dismiss

And why it is so

Glued to ego

& to pain.

Oh, how I get it!


Oh, How I Understand Vanity 5.30.2015

Circling Round Vanities II;

Arlene Corwin


One Password Is Enough

As paranoiac as the next one –

Secrets gone –

Well, none;


They’re watching (not exactly, but

We’re traceable – each bit you print.

You get my point)

There’s nothing on my laptop

You can’t see: I have no see-crets.

With veracity, simplicity.

I haven’t got a hundred passwords.

More than one would make me crazy.

What have I worth curd or turd?

Nonetheless, I think, ‘what if…’

What if I wrote this phrase,

That? Words sensitive

To do

With points of view:

Sex, crucifix,

Eugenics, ethics,

Civics, politics;

That state of states,

The ticking bombs ,

Both metaphoric and for real?

Thoughts reveal, so would one be

In trouble?

That is why I am intent

On never having secrets I can’t print

Or you would steal.

One Password Is Enough 12.19.2011

Our Times Our Culture II; Circling Round Computers;

Arlene Corwin

Imprisoned In Jeans

       Imprisoned In Jeans

Legs in the highest of high heels;

Shapes paid to wear the rags

Of some big deal

Whose name commands big money.

Girls willowy, who saunter

‘Cross our TV screens

In jeans

Of every width and breadth

But there, there in the secret part,

The part that has to breathe

Confined, restrained, constricted, trapped

They sit

Tight, tight,

No single centimeter left in which

To fit

A finger in some slit.

A sweaty thing, to say the least.

Imprisoned In Jeans 2.25.2013

Our Times, Our Culture II; Circling Round Vanities II:

Arlene Corwin

Before The Ego’s Fried

Before The Ego’s Fried


Before the ego’s fried in time,

In the death that I assume

Is silence in a silent world;

While ego mine

Still offers satisfaction

Of the sort that’s still attachment,

I would like to meet again

The world of once-relationships:

Lovers, friends,

Former all-the-ones who dropped away

Into the hole, where touching ends

And calling ends,

And Xmas cards and conversation

Are no more;


The ego dies away

And I am spirited away

From an identity called me;

Before it’s fried and ties decay,

If one could bind up lost loose ends:

Fading lingerings of predilection.


Before The Ego’s Fried 7.17.2006

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Birth, Death & In Between;

Arlene Corwin







The Skin And Bones

The Skin And Bones


The skin and bones not keeping up

And not in sync:

Skin droops, bones thin,

Pushing, sinking

Both and all at different speeds,

The whole a tireless process.

Never ceasing to be shocked,

Dumbfounded and amazed;

Fazed when one should to be unfazed,

Indifferent. Not in tandem, random bones

Lose calcium and who can say ho hum to that?

If I sit long, too focused – hocus pocus,

Some unhappy joint becomes like super glue –

Joined like, like I-don’t-know-what!

A confrontation I can’t win

Since skin and bones continue



The Skin And Bones 5.19.2015

Circling Round Nature II;

Arlene Corwin

The Hard Disk Of The Brain

All there – the past:

Pesty, pissy, painful, pleasant, present

In a now gone by,

Plopping, dropping in

As if it were a sky-

Borne gift. For I,

Who seldom sift through dreams,

Removed to when and then,

Imbibing scenes

Hard to describe by ordinary means,

The hard disk of the brain

Spanning decades,

Scanning willed and unwilled sections,

Pools of unrequited questions –

Compartmentalized departments all;

Losing track of

Transient bubbles

Paradoxically hard wired

On* the hard disk of my brain.

*on/in/to – I don’t know which or all.

The Disk Of The Brain 5.13.2013

I Is Always You Is We; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Medtiative;

Arlene Corwin

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