Letter To Those Who Take Life ✍️ ☮️

Those who take life have no understanding of the prize:
The measure, treasure, pleasure of existence’ meaning.
Those who take life too grow older,
Too regret if they are wise,
Realising one day everybody dies,
Including they themselves.

Life’s triangle from the first indrawing breath –
Birth and death
and all between,
One meaning being to prolong
One’s own and creatures weak and strong;
To NOT take but care for each form,
Our fellow humans the first norm.

Life, birth, death and all in between –
What comes thereafter to be seen,
The how, when to be left for then;
Is ever speculation.

Now has beauty, and our duty
Is to see and cherish every blemish,
Not diminishing the self or others.

Love and caring, action sharing;
All you need to make life better
Is this creed and poem, a letter
Aimed at those who dare
take life.
Letter To Those Who Take Life 6.23.2019 Birth, Death & In Between III; Arlene Nover Corwin✍️

Performance Mantra🎼🎹

To take what happens in the moment,
Build on it: This is what I use in concert,
It, my jazz born, jazz spawned mantra.

There my genie, there my muse,
If I can fuse the three:
The moment, genie, muse and me;
(Oy, that’s four!)
How to mix and rhyme the four –
The moment, genie, muse and/or…
An omen or the lack thereof:
The moment, genie, muse and love:

I echo this long as I live,
Actively and creative,
Taking what is in the moment, bit by bit
Building on it.
This the key
To spontaneity
Demanded of the jazz-borne me.
The Concert Mantra 6.20.2019 Vaguely About MusicII; Arlene Nover Corwin 🎼🎹

When Logic Of The Argument Is Faulty

I noticed how people argue, and how what should be a win-win situation often goes off the rails. I got me to thinking…🧘‍♀️🤔
When Logic Of The Argument Is Faulty
(Let Us Learn Good Thinking)

Even using intuition, it is good to be a thinker,
There is a something we call logic.
Truth-filled reasoning that’s never dated or archaic
Intermixed with common sense, is hard to find,
For mind is blind. It frolics superficially,
Ideas and bigotry, emotions in intensity, a bind.

When arguments are faulty,
Taking joy and cheer from dialogue,
Dialogue could, should be dialogic –
Conversation without passion,
Heart to heart negotiation,
Respect and love as consultation.

Logic in absentia
Turns friendship into acrimony,
Fellowship to enmity.

Sinking ships of thought abide
In politicians, egotists, ordinary jokey folk –
(One knows a few).
Not hiding from well reasoned talk
Which words could easily breath new life into
Is the simplest-cum-understandable solution.

It’s always hard to keep the thread
When heat ‘hots up’ a head
Besotted with itself in selfish reasoning.
Let us learn good thinking.
When Logic Of The Argument Is Faulty 6.18.2018/re-written 6.20.2019 I Is Always You Is We; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin


Everything Is A Clock

I’m not a nostalgic person. but occasionally I run across an old poem that feels worth putting out there for its universality and perhaps poetic value. Here is one such:⌚️🕰⏰⏳
Everything Is A Clock ⏳

I go to the postbox; I pick up the paper,
The day-date, the week-date, the year-date my keeper:
Measure, reminder, factual, sensory –
Every day’s newspaper clocking off time;
Printed and slanted as if it were gospel:
Ads, gimmicks, comics
Betraying a parody: flawed economics
Parading and claiming as true the impossible.
Then there’s the letter
All postmarked and fettered
To all-dying time,
Post-mortem minutes the record that ‘I’m.’

If you were to measure the growth of your nail,
You would see a clock, but you’d also see jail:
The need to prove where, what and that you exist,
Underlined, undermined
Measure by measure.

Everything Is A Clock 9.6.2002/revised1.16.2004/Circling Round Aging/Birth, Death & InBetween III; Circling Round Time II; Arlene Nover Corwin


Can One’s Meditations Influence The World?🙏🧘‍♀️🌈

Once again a mini- wondering has pushed me to the keyboard (not the piano this time). Three hours have passed and here is the result:

Can meditations influence the world?
One daren’t respond
And waits for answers there unlearned;
Through insight, seen, the mystical – alone discerned.

A world? Much to insist upon?
There’s misery, the suffering, the evil, the corruption,
And we know that all that we can do is cure our selves.
Purify the flawed and imperfect-ed self
Whose weakness and shortcomings are hard to shelve.

Can little we, alone on cushion, chair or sofa
Offer up this blemished being
To a seeing eye up in the sky
We well nigh can’t be sure of?

Breathing tricks, mantric techniques,
Sound and focussing and other tweaks –
Can each ache jerk a world into a working peace?
Endeavours and experimenting reach long-term
Through reaching in and out the brain?

One hopes.
We see a world that barely copes –
Whose future looks bleak, weak, with tweeting leaders,
Cheeky citizens who leak the latest happenings.

Science tries. The churches try. Social-minded allies too.
But here is little you, sitting as I’m doing now,
Pondering over ‘if’ and ‘how’
Wondering if our meditations are a mediation
Of conciliatory worth
And if they reach the big round earth
With leverage from this average me.
We’ll speculate a bit – and try, and see!
Can One’s Meditations Influence…?6.16.2019 Our Times, Our Culture II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Cryptic Time

Posts from all the world!
Who would have thought that flags unfurled
For little me from many you,
And many you from little me.
I’m filled and swell!

Time passes and with glasses raised up high
I sigh a gladdened sigh
That sitting here on chair in Sweden
More than one admiring eye
Is reading this, this very minute
Taking in the things I have to say
On chairs a million miles away.

Quelle mystery! For we
Will all be history a hundred years from now,
Perhaps no documentary fragment left
To inventory our best efforts.
Yet, we’re here, to write and wrestle with
A universe, and universal questions all have faced
Since time began.
And we, each other’s fan
Give love through likes and hearts and upraised thumbs.
Fumbling, tumbling round, zooming in on every crumb
That life can offer
Never coming to an ultimate.
Offering love to every Facebook friend
Not succumbing to the humdrum of an end.
But encouraging each other.
Is that not grand!
Cryptic Time 6.14.2019 Circling Round Time !!; Circling Round Reality; Birth, Death & In Between III; Arlene Nover Corwin

Home Truths✍️

This is to show how development’s ‘evolution’ works. It’s a phenomenon worth exhibiting every now and then. Don’t you think? I write this to writer and artist friends!✍️
Love, Arlene

Wrote this 2.24.1998: Home Truths before I ever got a computer or published a book. This is a revision and a refinement. Tighter, better meter, chopped and cut, more condensed and readable. Much better, I hope.

1st version 2.24.1998
For the man with eyes/The universe lies//In the stories I tell/Through typewriter’s ribbon,/The rhymes that spell/Out the good, ex-uruban nature, food,/My neighbourhood,/The body-me’s,/ The mystic, politic,/Prosaic, partly;/Energy or laziness,/Clarity or haziness;Words that hurt and words of hope/(Mostly hope, for hope encloses./Criticism separates/While hope’s ambrosias/ Fuel the fates/To spurt and cope,/Give life to heart’s least/Beat and last.)Home truths open personal;/Signs of weakness and reversal;/Love with and without libido;/God with and without a credo./home truths for the one with eyes,/
Worldwide spread on paper size A4.

For the man with eyes,
The universe lies in the stories I tell
Through typewriter’s ribbon;
With rhymes that spell out,
The good, food, my old neighbourhood,
Body-ness, politics: prosaic partlys,
With energy, laziness, clarity, haziness,
Hurtful words, hopeful words,
Hopeful curds, for hope encloses,
While nick-picking separates all hope’s ambrosias,
Fueling the fates to spurt upwards and cope,
Keeping life heartbeats last, least, lost a-throbbing…
Home truths are personal,
Signs of shortcomings and signs of reversal.
Love with and without libido;
God with and without a credo.
Home truths are for one with two eyes to surmise,
Spreading worldwide on A4’s paper size.**
*home truth
noun (usually home truths)
an unpleasant fact about oneself, especially as pointed out by another person: what he needed was someone to tell him a few home truths.
Home Truths 6.13.2019 Circling Round Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin
((found, by the way, on a floating scrap)

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