Arlene Corwin Poetry

So strange! This creeping up and slowing down.
So foreign, downright alien;
On and in a body you don’t recognize
From toes to eyes and size to form.
It all feels normal, going on from day to day
The way it does. Because…
The goal is one direction – one direction only,
And the universe is lonely.

When you’re prone to talk about these processes,
Fitting into categories that you’ve read about,
You know something has changed.
You see yourself as in a looking glass, your being winched
up to the angels.
Signs: BMI too piddling little too much;
An unknown organ saturated;
Too much fat,
Your senses not quite right;
Hearing, taste buds, smell and sight
A little or a lot on the discomfortlngly light side,
The skin, both out and in
Discoloured, smothering in dots and spots thus far unknown.

As for the brain: fantastic, sharper, more creative;
Living in a now that plows through those illusions
You once took as real: a gift to make a meal of.
But still, it’s slowing down,
So let’s not make too big a deal of it.

An Entire Slowing Down 5.30.2019 Circling Round Aging; Arlene Nover Corwin

Anger issues? Hold your distance.
Politics and global views? Hold your distance.
Be detached from family splits. It’s essential.
Thoughts that bind you, winding round and wangling,
Strangling in the long run.

There’s one sun, one group of laws,
Cause and effect, effects and cause…
An endless chain and endless series.
Your YOU, the bad, the good, the weak, the strong,
The right, the wrong –
it all fall into this container, therefore,
Hold on to the thing you are: you are a star.
It is the harder but the truer road
That in the long run takes the load
Of worry, hurry, off your shudders, er, you shoulders.

Things come together, fall apart.
That law is at the heart of things:
Bodies, countries, all machines.
Put together to form form.
Thermodynamic law the second says:
There’ll always be a slow decline into disorder.
You simply do not know when, how –
Later or right now.

So forge a distance and hold to it.
Detachment and reduced desire.
Are your saviour from the mire of life’s muck and fire.
Keep resistance to the distance at its lowest.
Curb the worst, nurture the best,
Unlocked from all that happens,
You are YOU and no one like.
in other words you are unique,
Deserving of all happiness.

Hold Your Distance 5.27.2019 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin

 Not sure about the structure of this one.  But here it is:  about detachment, of course.  I like to get them out into the world, but sometimes a little too quickly.  (It being that I write so much, and everyday).  Any comment, critical or not is always welcome.

  Hold (to) Your Distance

Anger issues? Hold your distance.
Politics and global views? Hold your distance.
Be detached from family splits. It’s essential.
Thoughts that bind you,
Winding round and wangling,
Strangling in the long run.
There’s one sun, one group of laws,
Cause and effect, effects and cause…
An endless chain.
Your YOU, the bad, the good, the weak, the strong,
The right, the wrong –
It all goes with this global bag.
Hold to the thing you are.
You are a star.

Long-sighted, not short-sighted
It’s the harder but the truer road
That in the long run takes the load
Of worry, hurry, off your shoulders.
Things come together, fall apart.
That law is at the heart of things:
Bodies, countries, all machines.
Entropy: you don’t know when, you don’t know how.
Later or right now, and so,

Create a mental distance and hold on to it.
It is your long-run saviour.
Be detached, reduce desire.
Keep resistance to the distance at its lowest.
You are YOU and no one like.
Strike down the worst, foster the best,
And be detached from all that happens,
Which regard for, generates un-happiness.

Hold Your Distance 5.27.2019 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin

I was thinking. And out of the blue came this:

There May Come A Time 🌥🌤

There may come a time
When we go back to pen and paper,
The computer age erased
By forces unforeseen and many.
IPads, smart phones, access to the virtual
Replaced by nature’s natural:
Horses, walking, slow, slow living;
Ways of keeping warm, of cooking, growing,
Keeping well, spending time:
Everything that was not prime becoming prime.
New constellations, working tools:
New taboos and also rules,

The good come out of all of this,
For knowledge does not disappear
And mankind is inventive. Schools
Of thought that sprout and kiss,
Staying awhile once they appear –
For nothing lasts forever.
There May Come A Time 5.27.2019 Our Times, Our Culture II; Nature Of & In Realty; Arlene Nover Corwin

To all my cynical, fear-filled, skeptical friends. And all the others, whatever variety of category you find yourself in.

Love,
Arlene 🧘‍♀️💕🤔

Trust😌🙂

Trust comes to mind each day,
Each circumstance, the balance and the nuisance
Underlying all arrangements, all relations,
Almost every situation.
Doubt, mistrust, dis-, and the chain that it creates;
Wary, weary, chary of… and hesitation.
We all live with that each day.

When we do what someone says –
Are glad to, willing to; when trust is there
It’s fun, it’s cheap.
It doesn’t mean that we are sheep,
For trust is deeper than you’d think.

Relationships succeed, are mostly all you need
When innocence, backed up, not by blind faith’s naiveté,
But grasp, perhaps a mastery,
Experiential education, a bit of expectation.
They are almost all you need.

We have it in the infant stage;
Trust in every chromosome and every 20,000 gene;
Then altered at an age
Where many ways can oil it,
Many ways can also spoil it.
Ousted – gone to dust.

A task, a role, a duty, gift.
We’ve daily got to sift
Through so much trendiness and pretence.
Nonetheless, it is essential
If we’re to have a ‘Happy Hour’ every hour.
Nothing’s worse than mis-belief,
Mistrust a thief without relief.

To learn the craft (without the craftiness)
Of placing trust, you earn the laughter,
Must be happier and more jocose
Than most.
A toast to trust.
Trust 5.2019 Circling Round Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin

To grandmas everywhere:

         Today’s Grandma🧘‍♀️🏋🏻‍♀️🛩💞

Today’s grandmother wears mascara,
Lines her eyes and does her yoga;
Dyes her hair, does things galore:
Is galor-amorous.
She blogs, has sex, perhaps an ex – or two or three;
Young at heart, but based on luck and land’s abode.

Young-ish in her body,
Youngish, oldish, all grandmas have golden hues;
Unselfish roles and rules which add to
Richness of the yet unformed grandchild’s views,
To stick a lifetime long.
To be a grandma of today is not a swan nor evensong
But something fuller, more complete, replete with aspects
Never known or recognised before.

Today’s Grandma 5.22.2019 Love Relationships II; Arlene Nover Corwin

  I was thinking about today’s trends, fascinated, amused and you might say, sociologically  interested.  As I write, they seem to be beards, moustaches, shaven heads, tattoos, veganism, longer skirts, and if I’ve left out anything (which I’m sure I have) let me know.
 There are such things - as in the case of the pointed shoe, things which I will always find bewildering (the pointed shoe deforming the foot in the long run); other areas and other items I cannot think of at the moment, but which, like the pointed shoe seem downright inconsiderate. 
 Remember the corset of the 1800’s (1700 hundreds?)where women could not breathe, men and women’s wigs where insects crawled,  the empire neckline on gauze-like, breast-wetted gowns where women died from pneumonia?   
 I really should entitle this poem simply Trends.

    The Men In Sweden…

The men in Sweden and elsewhere
Are looking older than they are
With whiskers, stubble, facial hair
Of every kind.
Beards, moustaches find their place
On almost every male face these days.
I’ve bet you’ve never heard
Of pogonophobia. A funny word
That means a fear of beards and beard!
There are such mental health conditions.
So I ask, why hide the manly jaw or chin.
A chin that’s manly out and in.
I fancy ego’s based on fear,
Vanity that’s always there.
Affectation, ostentation, airs and show –
All the traits that go along
With fear of judgment and rejection.
Don’t they know it’s all illusion,
And the only thing that matters
Is completion of the heart and mind that shatters all?
Finding out who, what you are
And working to complete it.
If you’re twenty-one or two, what can beat it?
If you’ve got a double, triple chin or none,
An open face is wonderfully
To be preferred.
Lose the beard
And keep the face!
You are a much loved member of the race.
A naked face is best to kiss!
What person would not favour this?
Shaved and clean is what I mean!
I mean a face that’s smooth and clean.
Dear men, don’t hide the face inside.
Nature’s pride is there to share
With those who at the moment stare
And wish that there was someone daring;
One to face the world un-twirled, un-curled,
And wholly, perfectly unfurled.
The Men In Sweden 9.8.2018 A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Circling Round Vanities II; Our Times, Our Culture II; Arlene Nover Corwin

After a talk with a friend who complained of distractions which keep her from more practical and/or rewarding things.🧘‍♀️🎹👩‍🎤

                Days Of Distraction: A List 

What can they be? They seem to go on endlessly.
Helping out a friend in need,
Finding way to heed the needs, impeding or re-seeding Needs of friends in need.
Ignoring things that must be done plumping for fun and earning money.
Ignoring requisites of I, myself and me.
One key is structure, thinking practically of harmony
To suture me, myself to me.
Life is simple: here, a summed up sample
Which gives ample time to get the other
Tools which further sutured self to self-discover.

We need roof and warmth and simple food!
So simple and so straight, straight forward!
Days of duty and temptation, stress and tension –
These grown into modern parlance.
What to do about this dream, (for dream it is);
This a list and not a scheme nor plan or stratagem.
The answer lies in nought but thee (that’s you and me).
You’ll see what works eventually!

Days Of Distraction10.21.2017 I Is Always You Is Me; Arlene Nover Corwin

🧘‍♀️🎹👩‍🎤

  While standing at the sink doing the dishes:🤔   
       A Dire Confession 😇

I’ve done my share
Of poisoning the air.
At eighty-four I want no more.
Shamefaced, conscience-stricken and guilt ridden,
I stand washing dishes, wishing what I can’t undo,
Intent on saying an adieu to:
Coffee grinds flushed down the sink,
Waxy cartons burned with doublethink:
Heat’s convenience, money’s worth;
Plastic, shop-to-home, then thrown out
Killing bee, plant, herring, trout.
From now it’s paper, cloth or fabric.
No more fabrication or excuse,
Sloughing off of duty’s onus.

Taking on responsibilities
To kith and kin, peoples of societies
Sink to hearth to planet earth.
A dire confession to the death:
No contaminants from apathy.
No disregard of cruelty
To animals that feed you/me,
Insecticides that have no meaning
Killing off with cancer-ed skill
People, plant and all things breathing.

From the mire of confession dire.
One day we’ll discuss gunfire.
For today, and my assignment:
Is the ever changing climate’s pattern
And disfigurement.
A Dire Confession 5.18.2019 Our Times, Our Culture II; Definitely Didactic; Arlene Nover Corwin
.

Today’s thought. (Isn’t thought a strange phenomenon? It chooses itself) 🤔

      What Is It To Be Brave?

Woke this morning wondering,
What is bravery? What does it mean to me?
How to be an entity of bravery?
I’ve seen it in all forms for life: lion, tiger, rat and spider.
Not oft’ on my mind, I ponder and conjecture:
Am I one such plucky creature?
If so, when, where, which conditions?
Do I face resistance, loss?
Is vanity a driving force – the boss?
Am I inclined to nosedive,
Fear the underlying drive?

So many nuances to grapple with
When putting bravery to paper –
Certainly a shaper of one’s destiny.
Linked to empathy, one’s chemistry?

No crusader – that I know about myself.
No debater – that I also know.
Adequate at facing failure? I don’t know.
I’m growing. That I know.
It doesn’t show, but in the nuance of each chance
I’m taking more.
Of course, one never can be sure.

To be unshrinking, unafraid, heroic
One must have within a stoic strain:
Calm, cool, unflappable and unafraid of pain
In all its parts. And uncomplaining too.
Is that me? And is that you?

What Is It To Be Brave? 5.14.2019 Pure Nakedness II; Arlene Nover Corwin