The Particles Of God
04 Oct 2018 Leave a comment
in 1988, 1994, 2018, God Book II, revelations big & small, Uncategorized Tags: particles from the sun a newly validated fact
Pain of Place
22 Jan 2018 Leave a comment
in 1994, 2018, life Tags: a detached examination of one's past
Pain Of Place
We were happy or we weren’t.
Blended feelings formed the most;
College, restaurant, bookshop, church,
Street, park, architecture host
To chunks and bits of searching,
Forming eyes of yesterday.
Covered market, cups of tea,
Open market on a Wednesday,
Stalls of veggies, jewelry;
Child to school and child picked up,
The walking to, the walking back,
The elder tree we plucked, hands cupped,
While counted blocks betrayed a lack
Of some fulfillment. What the target?
Surely not the streets and market.
Not the people either, nor
The daily passing through home’s door.
Gone. But pictures still remain.
And with the pictures tints of pain.
Of place that’s not the face,
Not company.
The place acts independently,
Its energy “the spirit of…”
Its colors move.
Algos: pain.
Nostos: going home again.
Sweet nostalgia’s pull is ‘bull’.
Place may frame the pre-ordained;
Memory’s the game pre-pained.
Twists and lists: a dream.
Place and act, smell and sound:
Mind boundaries.
Mostly, we were happy or we weren’t.
Watch The Mind
20 Oct 2016 Leave a comment
in 1994, 2016, the processes creative thinking meditative, the processes II, to the child mystic, to the child mystic II Tags: Love this one. Just found it after all these years when mindfulness in on everyone's lips.
Watch the mind, it’s really quirky.
Let it go and watch it work,
For when you see what it creates
(I don’t see how ‘cause that’s a secret:
‘How’ and ‘why’ the hidden states),
You may discover what a neat trick
To stand back, let go and watch.
Letting go, a chance to snatch
At fantasy creative:
Courage by encouragement.
Fantasy invents by fancy
Giving order to what’s left.
Creativity can steal from nature’s bank
And it’s not theft,
The dancing arts all mind expanding –
Honey way to jar the door
Of quintessential being –
Just by watching what goes on
And doing what needs to be done.
Watch The Mind 7.8.1994
The Processes: Creative. Thinking, Meditative; To The Child Mystic;
Arlene Corwin
And Tracks Of Deer Are On The Grass (the sinking of the Estonia)
25 Sep 2014 Leave a comment
in 1994, 2004, 2014, birth death & in between, birth death & in between II, our times our culture, our times our cultureII Tags: the sinking of the Estonia
*Estonia sank September 28,1994 At the time I had no idea the impact it would make. The death toll being ‘only’ six hundred something.
** 20 years later. I have never sent this poem out into the Swedish world.
It is now the weekend of the 20th anniversary of the Estonia tragedy. We now know that the death toll was over eight hundred fifty. The poem is going out.
And Tracks Of Deer Are In The Grass
Last night a ferry sank.
I couldn’t sleep, and drank in
All the waters of the deep,
With, now nine hundred two and seven,
Called in minutes back to heaven,
Shamed and hesitant to write the question,
How long did it take to die?
Tortured by a string of pictures.
In the end, what’s left is I.
Always, only, left, the same old
I-in-the-shape-of me-oh-my,
For even while the world goes under,
I-in-me is what is left.
Through someone’s blunder,
Stunned, bereft, yet left to be,
I owe it to the passengers
To not think sentimentally;
Feelings squelched, brain observed,
Grateful, yes, and still unnerved
I see no other answer
Than to carry on the I and Thou
Till all gets answered
Through some tao,
Some mystic sweet know-how.
Half-guilty as the hours pass,
The light of day comes through the glass
And tracks of deer are in the grass.
And Tracks of Deer Are In The Grass 9.29.1994/2004
Birth, Death & In Between; Our Times, Our Culture;
Arlene Corwin
Waiting For Something To Happen 1994 entered 2013
20 Apr 2013 Leave a comment
in 1994, 2013, nature of & in reality, to the child mystic Tags: really?, what is aloneness
Waiting For Something To Happen
I am a monad, a unit, an entity;
Seed of myself, unrelated to time.
Nomadic monad, a watery sea
Who happens to breed and bleed
By an enzyme collection that passes for me.
Don’t be duped.
Kinetically energized, I can make sounds,
Make the rounds,
Still alone.
A monad, a unit and clone
From an ancestor I’ve never seen,
An ancestor I’ve only heard about, read about, known
About all of the life that I’ve been.
So I sit here waiting for something to happen,
Knowing that I am a monad expecting
The trappings of clappings from heavenly
Creatures unsown:
Waiting for something to happen.
Waiting For Something To Happen 8.13.1994
To The Child Mystic; Nature Of & In Reality;
Arlene Corwin
No Idea Comes Out Of A Vacuum 1994
20 Aug 2012 Leave a comment
in 1994, nature of & in reality, the processes creative thinking meditative Tags: ideas, the nature of ideas, the vanity of ideas
No Idea Comes Out Of A Vacuum
I used to think ideas were mine:
“I’ve thought of this, I’ve thought of that.”
I was a brat.
I trace the chain of all I know and nothing’s mine.
No chink belongs to, comes from me for free;
The idea tree, each root and branch,
Each leaf and bug
Reflects the pull and tug
That history has nicely wrapped –
The mystery of knowledge tapped.
It hasn’t come ‘for free’ I say,
And yet, I know it’s all been free:
A free for all and free for all.
Ideas were there before the fall.
One has to try,
Make dud mistakes in honesty,
For no idea comes out at all
Unless the child’s prepared to fall.
And nothing’s wrong with being boring
If it’s usable to some:
It’s the you that you’ve been storing
That leads someone toward some light:
Level is a funny fight.
Time, from which there is no womb
Creates idea. Assume
That tracks of all you thought you think
Are linked to line divine.
It’s there. I’ve felt its glow.
It’s part of what I feel I know –
And that sure comes from somewhere.
No Idea Comes Out Of A Vacuum 12.7.1994
The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative; Nature In & Of Reality;
Arlene Corwin
Where Is The I? 1994
09 Jan 2009 Leave a comment
in 1994, to the child mystic Tags: 1994, to the child mystic
Where Is The I?
Where is the I behind the eye
I’m looking for right now?
How to spy my little I
Somewhere behind the brow.
I’d like to feel my I
The same way I can feel my thumb.
But all I feel when feeling for
My I is something numb.
I plumb the depths and scan the brain.
Split second spark, it’s come!
It’s there! The me as clear as rain;
A wave against a window pane –
And then it’s gone again,
A grain of consciousness gone dumb.
©Where Is The I? 94.8.24
To The Child Mystic;
Arlene Corwin
When I’m Allowed To Roam Around 1994
09 Jan 2009 Leave a comment
in 1994, circling round nature, pure nakedness Tags: 1994, circling round nature, pure nakedness
When I’m Allowed To Roam Around
When I’m allowed to roam around
I become like everyone else:
Full of ambition, indecision,
Anxious, scared,
Ill- or over- prepared
And nervous –
Not thinking of service to anyone
Other than self and pelf.
But thanks to fate I stay alone;
In the country on my own –
Well, relatively on my own –
Surrounded by a trillion pine cones,
Thirteen species bird, one sky,
Occasionally wondering why.
Out in the world,
(I used to be out in the world)
I hurled myself at everything in all directions,
All at once.
I’d bounce my skirt,
I’d flirt and pounce.
I’d pounce and bounce
Flounce upon flounce,
Full of desire, breaking hearts,
Aiming higher than my parts
Were meant to. When I roam around
I’m always bound, and lose my way.
But thanks to kismet-karma’s role,
(Forces out of my control)
The ‘country’ force directs the play
Enlivening the peaceful day,
The greenery of scenery
A bar-less cage of freedom.
Here I sing, a star alone;
Engagement: bird, lake, sky, tree, cone.
This from a girl from Brooklyn.
©When I’m Allowed To Roam Around 94.11.19
Circling Round Nature; Pure Nakedness;
Arlene Corwin