Arlene Corwin Poetry

  Mama Blackbird Feeds Her Six

Seldom does one have the chance
To see such offering.
Mama blackbird sitting
On a branch thin as your eyelash;
Keeping this admirer in a trance:

Six round empty circle mouths open wide,
A golden brown inside
Synchronized in shape and size.
One could die from happiness.
Where does one spy accidentally,
A sacrifice of such degree?

Back and forth, back and forth;
Digging, pulling from the earth
Plump worms worth gold
For six to eat, and she to hold
With saintly patience
Simply to uphold existences
Of six small lives,
Seeing to it that each thrives.

There’s no medal gold enough
To reward this tough exquisite sight.
I send her thanks with all my might.
And blessings for her daily flight.

Mama Blackbird Feeds Her Six 7.31.2021 Love Relationships II; Nature Of & In Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin

Wedding Pair There & Here

D’arcy, Daniel, wedding pair:
Kent & I can’t get there,
But we know there’s nothing to compare
With life as two.
Husband/wife: new life as duo.
Hearts and intellects a team:
Dream Team Braunstein!
Duel energy to work together
In all weather
(What could be more relevant!)
Furthering a future you-tual and fruitful.

Daring ‘Greta’ times to come,
Darling both,
Past betrothed to final oath!
May the cloth be comfortable, fit well –
Not just a shell but warm and durable,
Feel secure some fifty years from now.

As you take your vows,
There in the spotlight, we’ll sit here,
Contemplating, maybe meditating;
In three words, “We’ll be there!”
To congratulate in silence!
Maybe raise a glass to say out loud
And sense your presence,
“Mazel tov!”,
(Worlds of luck spilling over!)
‘’L’chaim’’
(Life filled to the brim)
With patience, kindness, love and wisdom! 💑

Enjoy the day!🎂

WeddingPairHere&There,7.31.2021LoveRelationshipsII; ArleneNoverCorwin

In one of my nutty but deeply reflective moods:

          Hours In the Kitchen

(from a dyed-in-the-wool cook & jazz devotee)

Hours in the kitchen
Are as rich in
creativity
As playing jazz,
Which in
Phases of the day’s activity
Call for phrasing, bits of glazing,
Playing lazily
As ideas come to me.
Hours in the kitchen,
Composition, intuition
Putting foods, spice, salt and pepper
Deeply felt, (or smelt) together.

Just as you can’t beat a sweet dessert,
You cannot beat the beat of drum, bass, keyboard,
Swinging singer, a great tune:
“How High the Moon”, for instance.
Every cadence as a chance to dance.

So it is when one is ‘hot’,
Every substance in the pot
Exactly like the marrying of note
When note floats out without a shout,
Without a sting inside the throat,
But satisfies the whole of one;
Wholly freed from doubt when done.

Ah, those hours in the kitchen;
Very Ella great Fitzgerald fun.

Hours In the Kitchen 7.30.2021Vaguely About Music II; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Arlene Nover Corwin

    Vanity Reflected On Once More

(Sorry. It’s one of those long ones again)

Oh, so subtle! Far from lexicon’s description.
It may well fit definitions: hubris, narcissism, self-love’s admiration,
Self-obsession, self-absorption;
Egotism, egoism, self-regard, ostentation;
Arrogance, pretension and display;
Viewing self excessively.
Most of all, an over-estimation of their need to be –
Types that do not show,
That we don’t know, don’t see
primary.
Hidden self-idolatry.
One of seven deadly sins: fruitless, empty.
Vanity: it lurks, it lures, assuring us
We’re loved, accepted and respected.
Never does it tell us that it needs correcting,
We, accepting it as simply ‘us.’
Sages, writing thus,
Warning of its nature and a falsely hallowed stature;
Short-term springtime beauty,
Tuned to death’s undying destiny.

Look into your Self on planes you most deny,
Ask what and why… You may uncover vanity.
Regrettably, I know I do. It’s there like air.

Not easy to weed out, get rid…
Its power is to do its bidding;
Subtly hidden,
Innocent activity oft’ tainted.
Maybe I should toss my warpaint:
Lipsticks, lipgloss, blushers, powders,
Kohl, eye-shadows and concealers.
(What the deuce am I concealing,
Not revealing to the world?)
Mostly why?
Our inner selves are unified.
Why this need for silly pride!
Are we all born vain-ified?

Vanity Reflected On Once More 7.27.2021 Circling Round Vanities II; Definitely Didactic II; Arlene Nover Corwin

.

.

   Fame Examined & Exposed

I see names,
Their claim to fame
The city, country, world they live in,
Showbiz, authorship et al,
In the end, a sinking ship,
The being known no crown
But short-loved, short-lived memory;
Fancied substance
Made of velvety impermanence.

There may be twenty second’s influence;
Prestige and rank that wields sway.
Believe me when I say:
It doesn’t stay.
It goes away.
Folk forget you ever were:
Who you were!

One’s seen it time and time again.
The handsomest, the smartest men –
You just can’t call to mind,
Put a name to, place the face.

In the name of edifying information,
Pay not one bit of attention
To the idiot temptation
To make fame a focal aim
It, a shameless, meaningless ambition.
Shallow be, not hallowed be
The name of fame.
Fame Examined & Exposed 7.26.2021 Definitely Didactic;; Arlene Nover Corwin

Interviewed Reflections Of Charlie Parker

He expressed them lyrically,
Views with which one must agree, i.e.
Art ought to be (is possibly)
An utterance of self unceasingly.
(it certainly is true of me.
I have no other way to be.)
That gifts that stalk the inner self
Should always be a talk from self;
Pure, childlike, unfeigned mind-borne chat;
Braiding instrument and it;
The play of intellect and heart,
A synthesis complete.

The interview articulate, was neat
And oh, so sweet!
Dear gifted, most superior Charles Parker Junior,
RIP!

Interviewed Reflections Of Charlie Parker 7.25.2.2021 Vaguely About Music II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Today is my son Jonathan’s 65th birthday. Yes, 65!
Celebration
Two years past: amputation.
Two years on: celebration.
Life’s unexpected dyings down and showings up.
SIXTY-FIVE!
To laugh and sup,
Drink the cup of Jonathan,
His thriving life, his gorgeous wife,
Money coming in each day,
New bride’s father filled with laughter,
Proud to give away his daughter,
To her loving Daniel,
Their arrival into wedded bliss:
Two coinciding festivals of happiness!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY JONATHAN!
My clever, much loved, only son!
May this July
Bring still more jackpots by and by
The leaven
In this bread
That leads to sixty-six, then sixty-seven…
On to eight, nine…, hundred ‘eleven!
(Why not?)
Celebration 7,24,2021 Birthday Book; Arlene Nover Corwin

Throw out the first version! Too hasty, too impulsive, too vain!. Tsh, tsh!

Still In save-the-world global mood, mending mind, mode.

Global Priorities #2

Continual expanding growth
Must, by definition fall,
At the very least, come to a halt.
The fault? The law of things.
Expansion and contraction
As a sawing saw, a sometime claw;
Societies, technologies,
Yearnings, earnings…
Do not bear imagining.

Nature doesn’t give a damn,
Acting from, on gram for gram,
Dram for dram, its drama sown.
No phenomenon goes on,
Grows on and on for good.
Things alter every second,
Self taking after self first-hand,
One thing that must never falter,
Is the sustenance, the maintenance.
Health servicing the brain.

Things do improve, (for we’re inventive).
Mankind has ingrown incentive.
For example, take this poll:
Which of you would waive
The toilet bowl,
Toilet paper on a roll?
The flushing water?

Yet we slaughter one another,
Brother, sister, cow and fowl;
Shrug off what must surely follow,
Gratifying here and now;
Fracturing law’s primal cause:
Peace on earth, good will to beings
To insure the human race has a place
Absolutely every place.

Global Priorities 7.22.2021 Our Times, Our Culture II; Arlene Nover Corwin

 Dear Atoms

Dear atoms,
Will you be my happy, healing little friends,
Synthesising, harmonising
Always in my favour?.
It is you I savour.
Will you be my saviour?

Clever little molecules!
When my will is working well
And I take time to talk to you,
You respond.
I’m conscious you don’t mind
Because you are my mind!

Minute and welcoming,
Tiny power-filled atomic thing;
You inner sanctum’s microcosm
In the bosom of my heart
With influence immeasurable;
Moving steadily from job to job,
Your energy the heart-throb of existence,
If I can just absorb your sense
All-knowing,
I can grow or glow.
Thankful that you’ll never go away
But stay as long as I do.
Dear Atoms 7.23.2021 Nature Of &n In Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin

Sometimes I get so enthusiastic about what I’ve written I put it out into the world much, much too quickly.  Shame on me!  Vanity? Impatience? Lack of impulse control? Who knows if the is the final draft!  In any case, I still like the theme. 

(There’s) Always Something Original To Say
(re-thought, re-worked, re-worded)

There’s always something original to say —
No matter what, grist-for-the-mill
To think about, interpret, analyze,
Philosophize, project your one-off self to take and make
A substance out of nothing.
(There is nothing that’s not something. )

All that’s wanted is a looking;
Outward, inward, spotting
What the eye, ear, mouth, tongue, touch –
Any such that grabs you,
Taking hold,
Sense’s folded into preferential brain.
Let it begin:

The world of mind the biggest bargain;
Free to use, to think about and share,
It always being there
To take in, give back in word-works of art;
Smart, from intellect and heart
That no one else has ever had,
Nor will.

You will see your attitudes come through;
Priorities, the deepest you.
The truth come forth as you perceive it
To become what you conceive
From largest issue to the tissue thinnest subject:
Original will aways be subjective!
(There’s) Always Something Original To Say7.18.2021Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin