Why Mourning

     Why Mourning

 Do you know anyone who doesn’t die?

Who hasn’t died?

Who will not die?

Not I.


How to accept?

Not mourn?

Think through to not have pain,

(For pain seems fruitless), for

To not accept

Is like rejecting sun and moon,

Existence, proven, measured, seen.

Do I lament when atoms split?

Grieve, regret,

Have sadness that I can’t get over.




Pain [we have] when others die –

That ‘other’ human, cow or dragonfly.

The local forester sawed down a fir

Which was for sure,

A hundred fifty years or more.

I mourned,

Stump and its rings all it passed down.


Is it absence or remembrance?

Is it longing for a something now a non-thing non-existing?

Is it clinging to a someone

Over whom we have no power,

Never had? Could it be wrong-er?

Fate and destiny his, hers or its

Through all of time and history.


I cannot think of one good reason

Vindicating mourning.

Were we meant for suffering?

Though I [clearly] cannot clarify,

We’re seeing wrongly,

Thinking strongly wrongly,

Wrought of ego’s braggadocio,

The hallowed hoaxer of emotions.


*Nover: me, born Arlene Faith Nover

Why Mourning 11.4.2017

Birth, Death & In Between III; Nature Of & In Reality; Revelations Big & Small; Circling Round Reality; Circling Round Egos;

Arlene Corwin



Guilt & Shame, Exhaustion, Doubts & Failure

I’m capable of grief, regret and feeling sad.

But is that guilt? And is guilt bad?

Knowledge that the one responsible is you,

However caused:

From innocence or ignorance,

Naiveté, unworldliness,

The mess created to put other(s) in a stew.

Perhaps it is.


In the stillness of decision,

From a willingness and will,

Rejecting guilt, dismissing shame,

Taking culpability in name of karma,

(though I’d never harm a

fly on purpose),

If I’ve done a something to a someone,

I will have to pay back someone sometime,

Try to form and glue a future, integrated, sutured me,

New belonging and identity;

Acquiring a philosophy to lean on:

A new frame, new name, rules of the game

Ameliorating guilt and shame.


They write about this all the time

Have done it since the start of

Any kind of written art –

In prose, in picture and in rhyme

In life, in death, with every breath,

Mistakes corrected to reach truth

Uncovered and un-smothered,

Reaching out that truth to other.


Through the spittle,

Perhaps victual

Of the title

I reach out to you.


Guilt & Shame, Exhaustion, Doubts & Failure 5.7.2017

Circling Round Egos; Nature Of & In Reality; Definitely Didactic;

Arlene Corwin



Giving In

Got this idea the other day- but only as a title. Worked on it the past two days. See if you appreciate its point of view. Notice that i place it in the collection called Circling Round Egos.
We fight against…

We feel it’s brave.

No matter what the cause

The will to save is strong.

We go along with crowds

Who think alike and think aloud.


The self may or may not be gone;

We like to think in unison,

Fighting for right against the wrongs.

We even sing fight songs

In name of right and wrong.


To yield is a second way.

Is it weakness to give in, give way?

It’s often clever – often never.

War means to attack, fight back,

But even Bonaparte gave up his part,

Threw in the towel; weak move but smart manoeuvre.


Giving in to giving way to bowing down to

Stepping back to take a breather…

Easier, less time-consuming,

Hours left for ruminating.


Friends gossip as they sip their sauvignon.

They’ve all known loss, they’ve known defeat.

Yet it’s sweet to criticize.

We are a crazy [human] race.


Summed up, the best stress buster

Giving back to life its luster,

And the plan that musters true,

Is yes in lieu of no: a giving in

To cover most conditions.


Giving In 4.27.2017

Circling Round Egos;

Arlene Corwin

Why Am I Afraid To Die?


Why am I afraid to die?

I’ll lose my I, that’s why.

I’ll miss my my.

It’s all about the ego, which


Means me in mind.

And that’s worth the examining!


So, how to do it?

Why not just say, “Screw it, for

It’s not important?”

Well, it’s inner pain, the seed of fear.

What is there to miss?

Belongings? Passing piss.

Family, friends? A wilderness!

We think that we’re in sync’

With lives and destinies.

Realities are singular: theirs, yours.

It’s all illusory.


The things you own are goin’, –

When, you can’t foresee.

You’ve no authority.

Next, there is the fear of disappearing.

Consciousness without a hope of bliss

Or at the very least some happiness –

Not there – forever: me, my, I dissolved to atoms;

Nothing but a flotsam, jetsam,

Maybe some becoming stardom;

Part of some unearthly system

We, of course, can never fathom

With no meaningful Arlene,

No me-niverse to be a part of.

‘Abandon…hope…’said Dante, for

We are not free. We’ve no control.

“Nope!” say we, and stay afraid.


Ego should be renamed let-go,

Letting-go from now or here.

So why am I afraid to leave this joint?

There is no point.


Why Am I Afraid To Die 3.1.2016

Birth, Death & In Between II; Circling Round Egos;

Arlene Corwin


Life is Serious

Life Is Serious


Life is serious.

Humorous, but

Never superficial, which

Shallow, meaninglessness,

Being self-important

Kills the moment.


Moment-centered gives one focus,

Ego-centered an unworthy pleasure

At the cost of learning,

Growing –

Knowing more.


Life has import.

One life,


It doesn’t matter –

All are



When you find,

(and even if…)

The chatter prattle,

Life has substance –

It’s a distillation of your essence:




Life Is Serious 9.4.2015

Circling Round Egos; Circling Round Reality; Definitely Didactic;

Arlene Corwin

The Blurbing Game

The Blurbing Game


Selling by a subtle yelling?

Ghosting, boasting,

Toasting as in ‘raise a glass’

To sell your ass at market?

Marketing; ‘to go to market

As in slaughtered,’

Do you falter

When you draft that cover

As you sell your soul, sold to

The highest bidder’?

What’s in a word, a blurb?



The Blurbing Game 8.1.2015

Circling Round Egos; Circling Round Vanities II;

Arlene Corwin



“My Life”: A Cliché

“My Life”: A Cliché


We’ve all had, got, are a ‘my life’ story.

Biographical clichés,

Not one more spellbinding than the other,

Not more varied,

The minutiae peculiar to its owner.

Mothered, smothered by the ego, vanity,

Self-interest, urges, virtue, sin,

All in stories of ‘my life’ and simply

Variations on the all-too universal themes.


But worthy.


“My Life”: A Cliché 7.7.2015

Small Stories Book; Pure Nakedness; Circling Round Egos;

Arlene Corwin


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