Peoplephobia

             Peoplephobia

You’ve heard about them all,

The misanthropes, misogynists,…

But have you heard of peoplephobes?

Detestation of a group,

Fear and loathing

Women, men, trade deals, the globe:

You-know-who – I think he’s got it.

Actions show it,

Does he know it?

Groundless, baseless,

Senseless

To the point

Of being foolish.

One who has it

Doesn’t know it,

Has not conquered anger, temper and self-interest.

All those traits of vice that simply aren’t nice!

Traits that ultimately cause destruction

Of the self and those who follow.

Hollow traits that scoff the poor,

Prizing, praising the well-off.

Leaving Latin, leaving Greek

And colloquially stated,

New created,

Peoplephobia’s the thing

For understanding would-be kings

And you-know-who,

Thanking God that it’s not you

Or me.

Which would be woeful, sorrowful and lousy.

 

Peoplephobia 10.17.2017

A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

You Can’t Have A War

    I was watching a reportage about the strong possibility of a war between Iraq and Kurdistani Kirkuk.  I don’t consider myself a political person, neither politically aware nor politically active.  But sometimes, I’m moved on a deep level at the futility of and process leading up to war.  This is one of those moments.  I went directly to the computer.

 You can’t have a war

Unless you have weapons;

You can’t have those weapons

Unless you have industries;

Can’t have an industry earning no money –

And money means profit,

For who runs an industry

That doesn’t profit –

Profit the carrot.

 

Weapons-to-profit:

The distance is multi- or many small instances

Building the one upon other,

Easy to disregard, 

Turn a blind eye to.

 

Oil or real estate,

Access to coast,

Minerals, labor:

Possession and use.

Passions’ abuse

And war is the certainty.

 

It’s terribly sad,

This fighting for terra;

A sickening error

Pretending it’s doctrine or canon or righteousness.

Overruled, conscience.

 

You can’t have a war,

Restrain it,

Unless there’s this chain of re-action,

Everyone playing his part.

It’s breaking my heart. 

Ain’t it yours?

 

You Can’t Have A War 10.14.2017

War Book II; Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

 

Gifted But Out Of Tune

 

Doctor: “What can you expect?

You’re eighty-two! Accept it!

Vocal cords, no longer tighten.

Yours will never close again.”

 

Goodness knows, boy, do I know it!

Unpredictable, quixotic.

Coming, going, throwing

Intonation out the window.

 

Eighty-two, all soon to be

An eighty- three.

Must Corwin flee because of age?

Flee the stage because of age?

Damn, no!

Today, tomorrow,

She says no to going!

 

Sings her heart out – when she can.

Songs fantastic; jazzy, cool,

Breaking rule harmonic

For the music and the fun of it.

But voice, alas, hard to control,

Its life so unconnected to the whole.

 

Bitch pitch, stich with crooked seam;

Bad, sad, how she sorely wants to scream.

She doesn’t.   Giving out the gifts from heaven,

Hearing flaws – now a given.

Focusing

on now and only…

Singing, playing joyfully;

Doing when and how,

She crowns the gig and takes a bow.

Gifted But Out Of Tune 10.7.2017

Vaguely About Music II; Pure Nakedness; Circling Round Aging;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

Who Would Want To Be World Famous?

 

Who would want to be world famous?

This, the planet so humongous,

Virtuous and villainous,

Full of goodness, full of badness.

Who wants to expose himself’

To the injustices of pelf

That lay in wait upon the shelf of fates unknown?

I’ve come to think: Remain un-shown,

Roof up above, food for the day,

A bed on which to lay your head,

Doing what you’re born to do,

Meant to fulfill you

Without pushing for reward.

Those who aim for fame today

Go absolutely the wrong way.

That’s it – and all I have to say.

 

Who Would Want To Be World Famous? 10,1.2017

Definitely Didactic;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

Somone Out There Needs This

So you write!

So I write,

Trying hard to say it right,

Forthright but kind:

Trying hard to find the word

That does not hurt

But flirts and heals,

Feels universal

By some sort ‘you’

Who needs it then

At just that moment.

For

There’s always someone out there

Who needs what you have to say.

 

Someone Out There Needs This 9.26.2017

I Is Always You Is We;

Arlene Corwin

Morning Greeting To God

On waking I say (thinking, really)

“You’ve been here all night.

You’ll be here all the day,

Providing time, my needs,

And more abstractly, destiny.

The trick is to be welcoming,

A trick that makes the play of pain

More comfortable,

For comfort is so comforting.

 

When I say pain,

I do not mean

A shoulder ache or thereabouts.

It means the pain of all around,

An ‘all around’ that’s all unbound

Which one will never have the skill to grasp,

Or power to reshape.

 

The day’s blank piece of paper,

Bland or stimulating,

Filled with action or quite still –

Always etude and apprenticeship.

 

So I ask myself (symbolically)

What can I learn?

With no idea of what’s to come,

Anticipating nothing

I accept each crumb that falls from

Shall we call it ‘heaven’s table’

(just a metaphor.)

 

Heaven’s table may be fable,

Morning’s greeting, fleeting phrase;

Both are ways to start the days

With positivity, an energy

To improvise with happy creativity.

What could be better?

 

Morning Greeting To God 9.25.2017

God Book II; Nature Of & In Reality;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

Pull The Plastic From The Sea

     Pull The Plastic From The Sea

 Un-political, no single placard,

Expressing view through rhyme and meter,

This appeal in un-bombastic, modest ways,

It says:

We have to save the planet.

 

All and you have heard this

Twenty thousand – at the very least –

Repeated so that

You’ve put cotton in your ears,

Forgotten all those many years

Cliché-d, near inappropriate.

 

And here I sit,

The shit increasing day by day –

This final phase,

Little me in what feels pointless.

 

Trifling, trivial, inconsequent small

Plastic forks and plastic bags –

They can’t mean much compared to wars.

Why get excited over bags, while cars

Of aging metal fill the holes,

Oils and chemicals kill corals;

Toxins all the rest.

 

Barring fishing fish for shekels,

Killing off the planet’s whales,

Slaughtering live things with scales,

Things with tails and entrails

I implore you not to put

                                     more plastic

In the growing, unavailable and sickly sea.

 

Pull The Plastic From The Sea 9.22.2017

Our Times, Our Culture II; Nature Of & In Reality; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Circling Round Nature II;

Arlene Corwin

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