Idea Are In Your Head

I was thinking about all the misinformation that we walk around with in our heads, taking it as truth. 🤡🕵️‍♀️🦸‍♀️🌬🎣🧘‍♀️🤹‍♀️🎢🛤🔭

We believe ourselves
Through falsehoods, self-deception and delusion.
Trusting ‘false fact’ information,
Mental pictures, aberrations and assumptions.
We define them, pass them on
Without a grasp of what they are,
Where they sit,
And that they are composed of sh_t.🗣🧠💤📣

One need not be self-castigating
For mis- taking fakes as truth,
Not realising that we’re always showing who we are
By what we follow as our star,
Our choices based on tendencies and readiness,
Genes, means, circumstance of every sort
Which come from all and any source.

How to know what’s what, what’s not;
What is the truth and what Is rot.
What’s worthless rubbish or sheer
Estimation and conjuncture
Which inform our talk, behaviour.

Hence, mass killings with a ‘cause’,
Charities and who we feel for.
What we aim at, our ambitions,
Suppositions, postulations.

Reader do you get it?
Don’t rely on all you think.
The truth is out there somewhere,
Your ideas not necessarily the ‘There’ it’s at.
Ideas Are In Your Head 7.31.2019 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Growing Hairs Everywheres

Putting on my lipstick and feeling silly.💄💋

You’ve never seen a stranger thing.
Hairs of new of varying
Extents and thicknesses, as well as colour.
And, if I forget to mention singular and double
In all facial parts.
Shall I become an old fart
Sooner than expected.
Or is this the start
Of something wholly
New and solely
A phenomenon belonging just to me.
No matter. It’s a pesky,
Tiresome, exasperating thing
To see the ring of old, old age
A-growing in this new stage
Of an ageing dame.
Damn!
Growing Hairs Everywheres 7.29.2019 A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Circling Round Ageing; Circling Round Vanities II; Arlene Nover Corwin

A Slow Unfolding

It’s been a slow unfolding:
Slow and building;
Searching for the certainties
That seem to come alone from faith
Constructed and contributed
By scientific findings, books of methods,
Recipes to keep one healthy,
Books religious, philosophic:
Faith and verifiable the mix.

There is work and there is trust.
There’s been gratitude and lack of, thus,
Behavioural and mental,
All a conquering of blindnesses,
Lack of knowledge, biases
Finding out about oneself is all one had,
The good, the bad,
For in the end, it’s all one has:
Oneself, the self, a Self in common with the world.

And karma’s dance, and luck and chance;
Genes, upbringing, clinging
World at large a-barging in
With triviality’s illusions
Forming and informing views;

Valueless desires and dreams,
Worked on, worked out schemes
That lead to nothing but confused depression
Showing in a zillion ways.
Lucky those whose stays are short.

Lucky those who find techniques
For gaining skill that never leaks,
And unlike most of us, carries on in consciousness,
Awareness, understanding and intelligence.

Lucky those who find
A way to keep unfolding on all levels:
Kindness’ face, aging’s grace,
Thoughts that keep away their evil.

Maybe it will always be
A slow f_unfolding,
Which is certainly ok with me.
A Slow Unfolding 3.4.2019/revised 7.28.2019 Pure Nakedness II; Definitely Didactic II; Circling Round Reality; Circling Round Aging; Arlene Nover Corwin

It’s My Eccentric Life

 In answer to those who might not get the hang of it.🧘‍♀️ 💕                                     

      It’s My Eccentric Life  🤪

Morning coffee, cheese and scone,
A jar of honey, honey brings when
I am still in bed past ten,
Moving life not yet made plain;
Bedside lamps with halogen
For ageing sight, winter mornings, reading nights,
Where just behind, shelves filled a-book
To find in just a moment’s peek;
Dammapada, books in Swedish, Light On Yoga,
I Ching, thrillers, spies and Gita:
Reinforcement within reach,
Each reaching out to scratch the itch of scrutiny.

Radio for sleepless darks,
The self-made pads, pens, pencils, bookmarks.
All things to help profess, confirm, express
With no aim whatsoever.

And so much more
That doesn’t fit into the norm,
That waits unformed in words to come.
It’s My Eccentric Life 11.16.2006 /re-written 2.27.2019
Pure Nakedness II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative; Circling Round Yoga;

The Case For Abstinence

    Do I sound too radical?  too old fashioned?  Too silly to make the case for abstinence?

👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨
The Case For Abstinence

“Every 5 seconds a child dies” – UNICEF

It’s a chain.
It starts with an intercourse;
Lust’s copulation:
Often a a passion- emotionless crude fornication.
Ending with child born into this world;
A world ever crumbling
From overwrought fumbling,
Wanted or not.

Populace growing
Glaciers are melting,
Temperatures sweltering,
Science can’t keep up.
Maladies show up
Without ever having infected before.
For want of a ‘no’
Tummies keep growing
And thus world inhabitants:
I’d say incompetence.
Mommies are crying.
Children are dying.

Old-fashioned out-of-date,
Concept of holding back mating
And screwing, and doing
The thing most desired
Because we are mired in muck
For the sake of a fuck.
( somewhat embarrassing,
Husbands and menfolk in general harassing…)

I’m putting forth the logic of abstinence.
It needn’t be permanent, long-term or short-term,
But one must remember that dying is terminal:
Dying is terminal!

The Case for Abstinence 7.25.2019 Our Times, Our Culture II; Circling Round Eros II; Nature Of & In Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin

Mister Moon Looking Through The Window

. Mister Moon Looking Through The Window
🌎☛🎯🌝☛🎯🌎!

Mister Moon looking in the window,
Angled forty-five degrees or so.
Minutes before midnight, TV show still going strong,
Me inspired by his song,
The man who woos from distances I cannot reach,
Who tempting me with valley eyes and mountain nose,
River mouth, a face that shows
The whole of him for one sweet night:
Peachy ball
Seeing all.

I’m watching and he’s watching,
Yet there’s nothing he can give
Except the tides, the tears,
Moon madness fears.

From where I sit,
He looks a little
Lost in space,
That still, still face
Accepting veils of cloud,
Black veils that shroud,
Erasing, chasing, placing
His enigma high
Upon the lists: wherefrom and why?
We’re looking at each other through
The window’s creamy glow.
Mildly roused, inspired, I.
He, embracing from the sky.
A courtship undeniably absurd, unheard:
In silence.
(revised 7.20.2019 in celebration of the 50th anniversary of the moon landing, July 20, 1969)

Mister Moon Looking Through The Window 5.16.2003/revised 7.20.2019
Circling Round Nature; Love Relationships;
Arlene Corwin

The Comings & The Goings

Watching some Youtubes, in this case interviews with an 83 year old Ginger Rogers and a same age Gloria Swanson. Remember them?

The Comings & The Goings 🚵‍♂️

In all sorts of ways they come and go.
Here today, gone tomorrow.
Should we sorrow?
Friendships, family, famous folk –
Up in smoke, we left, and tested:
Naturally bereft, but tested.
Wrested from the arms of fate
For the moment,
Only for…
But soon or late,
The moment puts in an appearance.
And a brand new gate is opened.
Our distinctive gait goes on, un-halted.
Slowed a bit by life’s emotion,
But, as hinted, living’s motion
Not slowed in the slightest.
After all, it is a test,
Not to be bested by the darkness of night’s
Comings and its goings.


The Comings & The Goings 7.18.2019 Birth, Death & In Between III; Arlene Nover Corwin

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