Arlene Corwin Poetry

Watching From a Distance

My husband’s braver than me:
I’ve watched. I see
The inhumane war right before my eyes
What seems indefinitely;
Although the day is number five.
Five days’ brutality and savagery,
Enormity that’s on the increase.

I am cowardly.
Cannot watch and cannot see
The man/boys, drafted young,
The children forced int a wilderness
Of wintry weather, sweater better
Than nothing.
Separated families forced to leave
Dogs, cats behind
To find their own requirements.
Rummaging and foraging…

Here sit we,
Channel volumes necessarily
On high, so that the boom
Is heard in other rooms,
No matter where we are and what we’re doing.
Bombs foretelling doom I cannot face.
Houses, people, growth erased.

Day, as said is number five.
Citizenry still alive
Fight back with pluck and fearlessness,
Nerve and daring – gutsiness!
And I and we watch from a distance,
Worry growing, inborn interest in the self
Shaved and shelved,
Not coping very well.

Will the power-mad warmonger
Lose his hunger?
Are we safe?
Will we be strafed,
The object of a future plan:
Takeover of each child and man.

My husband watches,
I a scaredy-cat to face all that
With sang-froid’s equanimity.*
Watching From A Distance 2.28.2022 War book; Our Times, Our Culture II; Arlene Nover Corwin
*he recovered his usual sangfroid: composure, equanimity, self-possession, level-headedness, equilibrium, aplomb, poise, assurance, self-assurance, self-control, nerve, calmness, coolness, countenance, collectedness, imperturbability, presence of mind; informal cool, unflappability.

Day Four: The War

Keeping score:
Day four: the war.
Poor people fighting back
To those who want to put the boot in.
While the world is rootin’
For their right to liberty’s autonomy,
Free to join which club they will.

Day four:
A war goes on.
Dead, the innocent, the indiscriminate!
Do not attacking forces,
Soldiers all, feel for the faces
Filled with sorrow, fear and angst,
When they themselves are stilled and killed?
Do they give thanks?
Do they themselves with moms and dads
And kids back home call this a charmed vacation?
Feel loyalty to war that’s just a fad
In someone’s crazed fixation.

War, day four:
Some will live to see day five.
Others, still alive but wounded, scarred for life.
What strife is worth it?
The vulgar stealth of war may lead
To power, land, the coin of wealth,
All of which, lost in the feeding minute,
Building palaces and buying jewels.
Moolah anything but foolishness –
Where is profit in all this?
Day Four:The War 2.29.2022 War Book; Yoga,Science,War&Cats II; Our Times,Our Culture II;Arlene Nover Corwin

There’s Never Been A Gun Produced
That’s Not Been Used

There has never been a gun produced
That’s not been used; No weapon – none.
One knows that people need defences.
But, and sad to say, the baddies,
Equal in their baddy way
Do not defend, but have as fault
The need to wound, kill, just assault.

Self- interest omnipresent, baddies often reign,
Rain down their bullets and their bombs.
On children, animals, dads, moms…
The lists and kinds unlimited.

There’s no excuse for weapon use;
Going on this very day, this hour, minute.
No minuet, no dance, no play
But insecurity and injury;
Architecture, history… wiped away.
Vegetation, future food…dismay
And consequence…
Second day: Ukraine; a war.

All has an end.
The senselessness of enmity:
Of feud, foe death and friend…
Consequence. Senselessness.

Guns and tanks and planes will rust,
Uniforms sold second hand,
Medals stuffed in cabinets.
Yet, weaponry’s idea persists.
Our climate’s grasses wilt and die,
The oceans either flood or dry,
Strange viruses gain upper hand
While even stranger men show up, expand –
Dictators, eager to make war once more.
And weapon sellers prosper.
Lord, in heaven’s name, what are we?
There’s Never Been A Gun Produced That’sBeenUsed2.25.2022;CirclingRoundYoga,Science,War&Cats; Arlene Nover Corwin

         Faith

Faith does not just happen.
Sprouting, growing,
It, this feeling-cum-idea, coming, going…
Hard, one knows, it being
what it is:
Invisible, part hope, part wish,
Optimism alternating
Back and forth;
North to south, south to north;
Expectation, longing, yearning,
Grounded in conviction, learning.

Echoing the inner thought, the inner fight;
Hard maintained, the goal, the light;
It doesn’t have to be a creed.
But it must fill the deepest need.

A faith not subject to a craze,
A something you can test and praise,
Is not a phase;
In short, something that stays.
A help for all one’s days…

Probably as simple as a pimple,
No temple, yet a faith that will not crumble,
Faith does not just happen.
Hard, one knows, to reach with ease
Yet ever worth the sharpening.
Faith 2.23.2022 To The Child Mystic II; Arlene Nover Corwin

    One Man’s Campaign

“One land’s campaign against Ukraine
Leaves only scars of suffering pain.
For all who see with wisdom’s eyes,
T’is dumb and plain to gutlessly
Believe that weapons can relieve
One single situation,
One lone problem, complication.
But instead bring long drawn-out misfortune”.
One Man’s Campaign 1.24.2022 Circling Round Yoga, Science, War & Cats II; Arlene Nover -corwin

         Faith

Faith does not just happen.
Sprouting, growing,
It, this feeling-cum-idea, coming, going…
Hard, one knows, it being
what it is:
Invisible, part hope, part wish,
Optimism alternating
Back and forth;
North to south, south to north;
Expectation, longing, yearning,
Grounded in conviction, learning.

Echoing the inner thought, the inner fight;
Hard maintained, the goal, the light;
It doesn’t have to be a creed.
But it must fill the deepest need.

A faith not subject to a craze,
A something you can test and praise,
Is not a phase;
In short, something that stays.
A help for all one’s days…

Probably as simple as a pimple,
No temple, yet a faith that will not crumble,
Faith does not just happen.
Hard, one knows, to reach with ease
Yet ever worth the sharpening.
Faith 2.23.2022 To The Child Mystic II; Arlene Nover Corwin

         Modesty

The modesty that I observe
Takes many forms.
Some open doors, some limit nerve.
Moved to tears I see the most:
The fairness and simplicity.
The unpretentiousness, discreetness,
Lack of drive for fame and name –
Qualities of blamelessness.

Though vanity doth never leave.
Sins of pride and greed – stuff just like that –
There in degrees.
Existing modesty is blessed indeed,
Its ‘yes’ side best side.

As it is consistently, energy has contra-sides.
I’ve seen great talents sit at home
Content to play and stay at home
When it or they could visit some,
Take active, even silent part
By influencing areas of unenlightened habit
That impede so many.

One can still be unassuming, sharing, giving,
Boastless in one’s innermost,
Yet much aware of inner weaknesses,
Embrace, involve with modesty untouched.
The subtle ego can’t let go –
(can’t or won’t – it’s hard to know)
A problem
(for another poem).

Forget your fears.
Just think of theirs.
Yelp your help,
For In the final step,
You will get cheers.
Modesty 2.20.2022 Pure Nakedness,Vanities,Egos, Experience, Everything;II Arlene Nover Corwin

 First came the title, then came reasoning, then summing up - the rhyme and meter genetically built in.  I loved justifying the concept.

Homage To All Things That Happen

All according to some plan –
New, alien – to keep things going, rescue man;
The right, the wrong: it all belonging
To some one humongous system
Far beyond our comprehension.

I have read
There are a hundred million neurons in our head –
These with millions of their own:
One giant telephone,
Small galaxies
To please the laws
Of effect’s Cause..

Hard to take in,
Come to the conclusion
That all things that happen
Are for something larger than
You, me, the galaxy
And on and on…
One cannot help but gape in wonder.
Homage To All things That Happen 5.27.2021/revised2.18.2022 Circling Round Everything, Reality; Experience; Arlene Nover

            Limited

(one of those days to talk about, explore)

God, you’ve made me limited.
I was already, but
You took my fingers,
Reasons only you knew ‘bout.
Fingers seven!
Can one get to heaven with just three?
You’ve done that to me,
I adapt, adjust,
Thrust energies into pure trust –
Because I must.

Improvisation simpler, cooking slower,
Zips impossible. More of chores so-so.
And yet, and yet
Some things have gotten better:
Writing, poetry, the letter
(holding pen is, well, a chore)
Piano right hand with just thumb –
Showing that the hand’s not dumb.
Taking of the jar and glass
*A horse’s ass’ and mostly guess;
Experiments with no and yes.

But all in all, despite discomfort,
Learning, earning, burning for
And yearning for more
Knowledge, method, skill and deftness…
Now that I’ve got less,
And not to make a mess of living,
I would love to turn the giving in – to blessing.

Limited, by definition means restriction,
But are we not all restricted in some way?
God, let me grow in praise of newer ways,
Spend my days
increasing.

Limited 2.14.2022 Circling Round Limitation; Pure Nakedness II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Love’s Day 

There to remind us
I am hers or his,
And he or she is mine:
Two Roman martyred saints
(who may be one)
Two hundred eighty nine
Both/each, Saint Valentine.

Why love must have a special day,
One has no way of knowing,
Showing it with hearts and chocolate.
So, with feeble wit
and strong devotion
Joining in tradition’s custom
With no option
Here’s the lotion of my notion:

All the love I have inside me
Goes to you with love’s supply
In skimpy words that paltry say,
Happy Valentine’s this day.
(to everyone in every way.
Love’s Day 2.14.2022 Love Relationships II; Arlene Nover Corwin