The Miracle Of Electronics

The Miracle of Electronics


Thousands read

And take my lead.

Thousands more

Abhor my store

Of verse and views,

Eschew or skew my prose.

A miracle

That pleases those

Who love a life impartial.


The Miracle Of Electronics 11.29.2015

Circling Round Computers; Out Times, Out Culture II;

Arlene Corwin


Insulting God

Insulting God


You can’t be rude to God;

God cannot be insulted.

[You] cannot hurt the feelings,

Touch affections,

Move emotions,

Sway sensation

In a constant with no ego, ergo,

Irk a constant with no ego.

[It is]

Patently, blatantly, arrantly clear. So,

Speak your wants,

Voice your needs,

Have your views, use

Words contrary to things learned.

One suggestion:

The connection!

Keep it!

Keep on going back.

This [the] one and only rule:

Repetition hits a goal

Homogenous and pleasing –

(Like this piece of cheese I’m eating

At this moment).


Insulting God 3.1.2014 (revised 11.29.2015)

God Book; God Book II;

Arlene Corwin


Dreams Of Bubble Baths

Dreams Of Bubble Baths


A child swathed in dreams

Of bubbles: -baths and –pipes,

No longer charmed

But harmed, alarmed by life’s

Bared crises; news that frightens.

Dreams of Blake and innocence forsaken,

Given up for knowledge wakened,

Can we die a ‘happy fella’

Without yelling out “Run for your lives”?

Or, fearless and experience-free,

Like Candide and Quixote, think

“It’s heaven’s gift – all of it!

Trust in fact and act and wait.

Watch and see. It’s heavenly – all of it!”


The baths were fun; a season’s present every Yule;

The bubble-pipes more so when running after

Iridescence after school.

One read no headlines, everything a

Coming up in roses world.

I found detachment’s observations,

Wisdom thrown in for luck.

A lead-me-not-into-temptation

Bucking buck incessantly.

Stuck with what I am and what I’m not,

I’d not go back to dreams of bubbles, rather

Think, sink, drink in that:

I’ve got a tub, a tap and water.


Bubbles notwithstanding.


Dreams Of Bubble Baths 2.23.2014

Pure Nakedness; Circling Round Reality;

Arlene Corwin


Eulogy Mine


A funeral today.

Instead of focusing on corpse, friend, death,

I focused on the music played,

The sky through windows,

Mind, brain, body,

Five swans flying by…

I did not cry.

I did not let in sentiment.


Coffin there,

She’s somewhere else.

So I resolved that when I die

I will not let or want onlookers, family,

Themselves to cry.

No tears ,

Because I am not here,

Just body’s form in


Instead, I urge with all my heart –

My living, beating, present heart,

Each attendee go into all their parts and focus,

All the time aware

Of where

They are.


Eulogy Mine 11.20.2015

Birth, Death & In Between II;

Arlene Corwin


More About The Terror Attack In France (I can’t leave it!)

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Source: More About The Terror Attack In France (I can’t leave it!)

More About The Terror Attack In France (I can’t leave it!)


What I learn I give to you,

Flawed as it always is.

The brain alive. So grateful.


Terror deed in France tonight.

Terror deed in duplicate,

In triplicate, quadruplicate,

Quintuplicate, sextuplicate –

All synchronized!

And I, in bed, head functioning, limbs too,

Sit sharing it with you,

Ridiculous and disconnected the reality.

There may be better ways of acting –

I have no better way.


More About The Terror Attack In France 11.14.2015

Our Times, Our Culture II; War Book II;

Arlene Corwin

November 13th, 2015 (the six-fold terror attack on France)

Where you are

When terror comes

Is karma,

Call it what you will,

Its chain untraceable.

You cannot call it anything but miracle.

Explosions over France tonight,

The inexplicability of death and fright;

Yet in the bloodbath some survive,

Shielded in uncanny ways:

Wrong time, right place;

Cell phone or a leather jacket,

Bend of knees, a sudden sneeze;

Placement meters from the rocket

Or the bullet, slightly wounded

In the toe by shrapnel’s glow,

You don’t know where to go and so,

You hide, ride out the storm

Until police and saviors come;

Some miracle of cause/effect,

Your destiny, your fate:

Call it what you will,

It’s still

A miracle.

This verse concerned survivors.

We will not mention perpetrators –

Pawns of ideology that kills. Well,

Karma’s individuality will tell.

“He who lives by sword will die…”

Though every word he swears by

Has a scripture.

I’m pretty sure!

November 14, 2015 (the six-fold terror attack on France)

Our Times, Out Culture II; War Book II;

Arlene Corwin

Bad Things (an idealistic poem)

Bad things and happenings

Are happening, for sure.

But there’s a law,

In point of fact, the first in physics –

That the crucial brick is:

Every energy contains its equal opposite,

And I believe it.

For every plane blown from the sky,

Bomb on board, on ground,

Or other diverse reasons why,

I shall not grieve.

T’would be naïve,

Deceiving sentiment and intellect

To do so.

Good things and happenings

Are happening to even out and purify

The ratio.

As amateur and passerby,

I lay no claim to qualify.

But I’ve observed, sensed, reasoned through,

And come to the conclusion that

Bad things always return to good,

And that alone is true.


Bad Things 11.4.2015

Circling Round Reality;

Arlene Corwin

Am I Midas?


People keep trying to take my money.

Survival? Profit?

Product sellers all,

Who can tell?

Why care? Well,

It’s mine.

I feel better when I have it

In my hands,

To use, abuse or save it.

A wall,

A ceiling too.

It rests upon a floor

That may not want to prop up you.

Thus, accordingly and therefore,

Is it fair

To call me Midas?


Am I Midas? 11.3.2015

A Sense Of The Ridiculous II;

Arlene Corwin

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