The Twenty-One Inch Waistline

Sometimes I get the silliest memories.

The Twenty-One Inch Waistline

 When I was young –

As yet unsung,

I yearned, no, burned

To be like she

Who had a waistline twenty-three:

I was twenty-four.

Hungered voluntarily.

Now they’d call it self-starvation,


I soon set sights on twenty-one.

There was envy,

There was vanity.

Oh, if I could only be

Like her.

But I remained a twenty-four.

It wasn’t in my nature

To be less or more. 

These days I’m fine

With my twenty-four/five inch waistline.


Twenty-One Inch Waistline 11.22.2017

Circling Round Vanities I; Pure Nakedness;

Arlene Corwin


Always In Preparation #2

           Always In Preparation #2

(a rather long simplification)


Always in preparation for an interview:

What will I answer? Never know.

– What do I like? do things I do, the way I do?

– Write poetry, play jazz, do yoga?

Body/mind my mental window in my mental interview:

And I must justify it all.

Some germ, some theme begins the whole:

The technical; word hurdles

When I write or sing;

All challenging,

Performing, writing or just doing.


T’ween two covers it’s official;

Everything grist-for-the-mill,

I’ll likely publish ‘til I’m still.

No special motive winks or flirts,

No motive hides behind my skirts –


My ears hear musically,

It all comes naturally, substance counting most;

Not tricks, not formulae, cliché –

If there’s a Corwin idiom

It’s in the DNA.

I work out tunes, -out poetry, -out bodily.

The mind works out spontaneously,

I (wherever I is to be found) give in, give form,

Substance from-and-in the frame.


In short, I paint myself into a box

And creep around

Until some [final] satisfaction binds.

A futile paradox:

To clarify and satisfy

The interview,

But there am I,

Always in preparation.

 Always In Preparation 7.6.2014

Pure Nakedness; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;revised 11.21.2017

Arlene Corwin




It may be right to be ‘a little mad’.  


Listening to Thelonius Monk.

(Give him a try –

If you haven’t already)

I myself am sunk

In heaven.

(or is it ‘raised’)

Anything for a rhyme



Anyway, there’s genius

In being flawed:

In honesty, in bravery –

Wrong notes,

Strong, short, long notes;

Flatted fifths, half-tones the chord;

Finger placement – absurd.

Who can be bored!

Who cares?

He dares.

Stares into space,

Jumps up and down,

No smile, no frown –

He plays his junk,

Always a Monk – Thelonius..

And so I sit in pillowed bed,

Caffeinated (to my toes and head),


Letting, simply letting…

Waiting, writing

With an honesty and spunk (see Monk, sunk, junk)

Flawed to the gills.

Hmm, sills, bills, chills, kills…hmm.

 Flawed 11.19.2017

A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Vaguely About Music II;

Arlene Corwin











I Am So Grateful [Anybody Reads this Stuff]

I Am So Grateful [Anybody Reads This Stuff]

 I am so grateful anybody reads this stuff.

Exasperated that most others don’t.

And even with an inner miff

I carry on, pushed by an inner drift,

(some would add an inner gift)

Ambition not my motivation.


A brainstorm popping from wherever popping up pops up from.

You will recall it’s happened to you all;

You know, thoughts over which you’d no control.

And yet you thought them, acted out on

Drives beyond what’s called

Free will. 


So, am I grateful or detached?

Dispassionate, disinterested, crosshatched?

Standing alone from strength

Yet obstinate from weakness’ lack of confidence.

I’m sure of this:  the length

Of life that’s left to me,

I will persist in poetry.

(One must

When it lies in the guts)

Tampering with syntax, spelling, yummy slang,

Choice aesthetics in good taste/

Choices crappy and a waste;

Writing with a rhythmic sense,

Caring very much for tense,

But not for meters recherché;

I, utmost mystic and most earthy:

Quelle dichotomy!

Hypocrisy?  No, contrast only!

 I am grateful for and to the one

That read Ms Corwin.


I Am So Grateful 11.14.2017

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative; I Is Always We Is You; Pure Nakedness;

Arlene Corwin










In A Cloud Of God

     In A Cloud Of God

I meditate

In a cloud of God,

The phrase enticing,

Spicing up my inner vision,

Paradis-ing selfsame vision

Into supervision.

This decision to be deep in thought

That isn’t thought exactly

But a tactful way to find the mind

Without a wandering in imagery,

Colloquially speaking,

And between you, me, i.e. we, us

Who chance to meet on this

Our [quasi] paper

Is escape of noblest kind,

Leading blindly on pure trust

To someplace nice – yes, nicest!


In A Cloud Of God 11.13.2017

God Book II; The Processes; Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;

Arlene Corwin

Morning’s Minute Meditation

     Morning’s Minute Meditation

I send my heart this morn,

Not with emotion but with intellect –

For I suspect that’s quite okay.

One may think one’s way,

Not necessarily emote,

For one connects in any case,

Each with a modus operandi.

In conclusion,

Not to worry how it’s done

Every bit a hit

(as in reward for effort).

Just one minute needed.

Morning’s Minute Meditation 11.12.2017

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; To The Child Mystic II;

Arlene Corwin

I’m Writing For The Universe

       I’m Writing For The Universe

 I’m writing for the universe;

No man or woman, special group.

I’d hope you understand this,

Aim, a statement/thought

Encompassing the concrete and abstract.

The philosophic reaching out

To turn into endeavors

Which depend on character

Which finds itself in x conditions,

In you, out you;

Efforts too,

All undertakings the result

Of birth and genes and chance surroundings.

(is this dance really just chance?)

Special needs abound within the needs of all:

The ego, vanities, the strengths, the skills;

Bad, good, dark, light,

Mediocre and the bright –

A sameness sewn in rich arrays

Of hims and hers,

A one which covers,

Pierces through the universe.

I’m writing for it all, the All, the Goal.

In short, the whole,

Myself included.

I’m Writing For The Universe 11.10.2017

Nature Of & In Reality; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; I Is Always You Is We; Arlene Corwin

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