Don’t Look Now But Poetry Is In

29 Nov 2016 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 2016, our times our cultureII, the processes II Tags:

If you’re reading this you know it:

Poetry is in.

Read and written

By those one or two aware or metaphysical,

Those more than few in love, depressed,

Oppressed, repressed;

Just pressed to write.

 

It’s right to write a stanza,

A romance -a, spectacular extravaganza

For whatever and wherever

There’s

A public where

There wasn’t.

Rhyme, no rhyme,

Minus meter,

Syntax less or more,

Ignored.

It matters or…

It doesn’t.

The objective is to say it,

Think it

In no special order,

Murdering the word

Or helping word to smolder

On a reader’s shoulder.

 

Poetry is definitely

Back in

Fashion.

 

Don’t Look Now, But Poetry Is In 11.29.2016

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

Recurring Themes, Recurring Dreams

26 Nov 2016 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 2016, circling round reality Tags:

         Recurring Themes, Recurring Dreams

 

It’s all projection.

 

Have you noticed that

From art, to food, to clothing, all

Are cloaked in style

You’ve carried with you for a mile;

A thread in common,

Background shared.

 

Through life, if you’re aware,

You see the common motif there.

Some dark, dark matter

Smattering the whole of you

And all you do

To permeate each, every hair.

 

Holding to the non-dogmatic,

Real, empirical, pragmatic

Of each day’s encounter,

Nameless through the daily banter,

What can it be called?

Can one explain an undercurrent so obscured

Without a mind to find it?

 

Then you see the undetectable:

Theme, variations

That define the line you’ve drawn throughout.

Back again, again, anew.

In art, in food, in points of view

Recurring themes, recurring dreams

The title running through.

 

Recurring Themes, Recurring Dreams 11.26.2016

Circling Round Reality;

Arlene Corwin

Facial Hairs Mystify

26 Nov 2016 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 2016, a sense of the ridiculous II, circling round nature II, circling round vanities II, Circling Round Woman II Tags:

Facial hairs mystify,

Growing how and where they will,

Which partly sheds light on reason why

They call it, willy-nilly.

 

White, black, silky, coarse,

All on the selfsame surface –

Growing inward, shooting up and outward!

It’s ridiculous!

At times I curse the space

They call the face.

It shows no logic.

It’s not magic, not strategic,

But some feeble plan of nature,

Some chaotic plan inscrutable

Whose structure is a stricture

On a want of one thing or another.

Keeping tweezer handy

Without ever understanding,

I surrender

To a power

Higher than…

And I give in,

Say a prayer for some unwitting sin

I must be paying for.

Follicles win

Hands down, I mean,

Face down.

 

Facial Hairs Mystify 10.15.2016

Circling Round Nature II; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Circling Round Vanities II, Circling Round Woman II;

Arlene Corwin

 

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I Like Looking Like A Boy

24 Nov 2016 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 2016, circling round aging, circling round vanities II, circling round woman, Circling Round Woman II, circling round wrinkles Tags:

I like looking like a boy.

Those massive locks

That locked in looks

From boys and men –

Well, that was then

And now is now.

 

I’ve thrown out needs

And taken in

Convenience, suitability

Which looks as nice – e’en twice as nice

To those bystanders’ gawking shoulders

(Appeal’s molder in the eyes

Of the beholder),

 

Now it’s time for short and neat,

Just as cute

When coexisting with a sweet,

Kind, loving nature;

Character,

Persona’s self charisma

Which as hypnotic, gives off honey’s own melisma,*

Charm’s attraction which,

If used correctly

Does more good

Than all the ringlets ever could.

*a group of notes sung to one syllable of text.

 

I Like Looking Like A Boy 11.24.2016

Circling Round Aging; Circling Round Wrinkles; Circling Round Vanities II;Circling Round Woman II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

The Cold Revised

24 Nov 2016 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 2016, a sense of the ridiculous II, love relationships II Tags:

A prophet’s never known

Among her own –

Especially by one she’s wed to.

He’s abed.

He’s got a cold.

She’s got hold of techniques potent:

Pressure on those points oblique,

Baths and steam,

And as I speak,

Gone phlegmy pangs

And reams of snot

From sinuses and nose and throat.

Alas, alack, he’s stuck all stuffy, prone,

He and his cold,

Alone.

 

Words in the air

Don’t reach his ear

Or mind, and certainly not intellect.

He doesn’t want neglect

But can’t accept

The profit of the prophet.

So he coughs and sputters,

Spews and suffers.

She, not known

Among her own

No matter how ‘spot on’

The common Sense.

 

The Cold 11.15.2016

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Love Relationships II;

Arlene Corwin

Our Tractor Man

19 Nov 2016 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 2003, 2016, birth death & in between II, circling round nature II, circling round time II, special people special occasions Tags:

Our tractor man is doing

What he really likes to do:

Clearing snow.

He suits my mental man-with-plow.

Trading pig and cow

For gear he likes to sit inside;

The tractor hut;

Tranquil woods to clear and saw,

Chop and cut;

Tractor wheel, forest smell,

Alone deciding what to fell.

Muddy potholes in the spring,

Flood and crud his tractor´s thing.

Nicely chubby,

Slightly tubby;

Sixty odd,

His tractor and the woods his God.

 

I esteem this earthy man

Dharma bound to seasoned stars

That fix the farmer life and plan

Unchangeable and stable.

Our Tractor Man passed away 2016.


Our Tractor Man 3.4.2003 (revised 11.19.2016)

Circling Round Nature; Circling Round Time; Special People, Special Occasions; Birth. Death & In Between II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

                                                     

 

The Cold

16 Nov 2016 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 2016, a sense of the ridiculous II, love relationships II Tags:

A prophet’s never known

Among her own –

Especially by one she’s wed to.

He’s abed.

He’s got a cold.

She’s got hold of techniques potent:

Pressure on those points oblique,

Baths and steam,

And as I speak,

Gone phlegmy pangs

And reams of snot

From sinuses and nose and throat.

Alas,

Alack,

He’s stuck

On sofa prone,

He and his cold,

Alone.

 

Words in the air

Don’t reach his ear

Or mind, and certainly not intellect.

He doesn’t want neglect

But can’t accept

The profit of the prophet.

So he coughs and sputters,

Spews and suffers.

She, not known

Among her own

No matter how ‘spot on’ the common

Sense

 

The Cold 11.15.2016

A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Love Relationships II;

Arlene Corwin

For Those Who Can’t Believe

14 Nov 2016 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 2016, God Book II, to the child mystic II Tags:

For those who can’t believe

I leave you with: God is just word

To gird up life and lessen pain;

Intended to encompass unexplainables

That science or psychology can’t clarify:

The ecstasy of insights

Helplessness of death,

Mystery philosophies

Of paths that lead to happiness;

With logic all their own to laud,

Reality reduced to primal cause

That some call God.

 

Problems of belief lie in

The gene or flair; the character

Or IQ that x factors cannot cover.

 

There, in entity invisible, in force likewise,

Books, systems aim to clarify

In symbol, parable and story;

Threads for some, nonsense for others

Who prefer to live by ethics; other codes

To take a hold of.

 

“God” is odd,

And hard;

A word,

A shortcut, like the Sanskrit Om –

To something real, a waterwheel

To rain down onto neuron’s brain.

 

That’s almost all that I can say

Leaving those who can’t believe

Until some other insight comes its way

Some Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday

Friday, Saturday or Sunday.

 

For Those Who Can’t Believe 11.13.2016

To The Child Mystic II; God Book II;

Arlene Corwin

 

The Day Trump Tr-i-ump-hed

11 Nov 2016 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 2016, our times our cultureII, special people special occasions Tags:

         The Day Trump Tr-i-ump-hed

Trumpeting, he trumped and triumphed…

Did he, has he?

Thumping his way forward,

Jumping through the hoops of word and phrase,

Razing those that blocked his ways,

He dazed the lot.

Crazed, ablaze – or not. But hot,

He took a stand,

But didn’t seem to understand (and may not still)

That energy attracts a gangland:

Thinking not that crowds could form,

Become a throbbing, clobbering or bombing mob:

A swarming army.

 

Young we heard,

You can’t take back the caustic word

Once in the air it’s there!

So rather than lie down

Crowds gather,

Drawing to themselves an anger,

War uncivil,

Civil war

once more,

And monies that he’s vowed to earn

Will burn in costs for crowd control, police patrol.

 

The day that Trump was voted in

May not, in fact become a win –

For reasons manifold and sundry.

 

The Day Trump Tr-i-ump-hed 11.11.2016

Our Times, Our Culture II: Special People, Special Occasions,

Arlene Corwin

 

 

Symptoms Of Development: After An Election

09 Nov 2016 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 2016, our times our cultureII Tags:

One would hope that thoughts,

Their hiddenness, their essence

Are transformed into behavioral

And verbal evidence.

Take the this day, two thousand sixteen;

Candidates with different pasts,

Different posts,

Different paths and values:

What they chose

And what they choose.

Flawed by dint of being human,

‘Being human’, having reason, character

That makes them what they are,

The symptoms gradual, invisible, but there,

And one so hopes that they, you, I,

All turn towards openness, transparency;

Truthfulness to one and every. i.e.

Growth through an infinity

Of ways,

Symptoms Of Development: After An Election 11.9.2016

Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

 

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