No Protective Language or, A Call To Arms

No Protective Language or, A Call To Arms🎭

I have no protective language.
No words I can hide behind,
No phrase at hand,
No pretence grand
To hide intention, e’en pretension.
Always nude or even crude,
Yet heart and other parts refining of themselves
Like elves
Inside a magic factory.

I watch the interviews on TV daily:
Interviewer and -viewee;
Euphemism down to fingertip,
Softening, evading all,
The small, the big,
With rigged-up truths
Too deep or hard to say
Said in the slickest often quickest way.
Does it pay?

Abe Lincoln said,
(bless his right-minded, honest head)
“You can fool all of the people some of the time,
Some of the people all of the time,
But you can’t fool all of the people all of the time”
I represent the some and all.

Or to paraphrase with Corwin grace:
“Now and then
You can fool women, can fool men;
You can fool almost everyone,
Even screw the guileless few.
But you can’t play or
Get away with hanky-panky every time –
A swanky, cranky, squirming, worm
Every minute of each day.”
Unvarnished truth’s not built that way.”

Disguise, deny – a lie’s a lie.
Disinformation, figment of imagination,
Lying’s at the speaker’s root:
A suit of armour made of soot.

Be gallant, truthful, careful –
There’s a cesspool out there.
Better not to rot
In dream-filled reams of word,
But face the world
With unprepared, sometimes mistaken
Ways of talkin’.

No Protective Language 1.3.2019 Definitely Didactic II; Circling Round Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin

People Get Tattoos

People Get Tattoos

People get tattoos


They think that there’s no change,

Because they’re vain, in love…you name it.


Because they’ve no idea

That what was butt or breast or chest

Firm-formed, de-forms

With ‘budding bicep rose’ becoming

Wrinkled, wilted posy -of-the-elbows.

I suppose it’s all to do with time

And how we throw away prime

Energies, the side- and peepshow

We once worshipped with a gusto.


Worn and old.

Tattoo, you are a symbol

Of myopia and youth,

Cockeyed view of truth that lets us down.


Still, there always will be those

Who need tattoos – jewelry indelible,

Refusing reason until gusto is disgust.

There’s nothing one can say or do

Except re-sing this blemished tune

For anyone who’ll listen:

Just be witness and abstain.


People Get Tattoos 7.20.2002 /1.18.2004

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Definitely Didactic; Time;

Circling Round Vanities; Circling Round Wrinkles;

Arlene Corwin

I Don’t Like You Death 2006 2013

I Don’t Like You Death

I don’t like you death –

You make things disappear.

You take my bird, my friends,

You leave me here

And then,


Take me too.

Take me to


Secrets you don’t want to share.

It isn’t fair,

Or is it?

I Don’t Like You Death 11.26.2006

Birth, Death & In Between; To The Child Mystic; Time;

Arlene Corwin

Jag Tycker Inte Om Dig Död

Jag tycker inte om dig död.

Du får saker att försvinna.

Du tar min fågel, mina vänner;

Lämnar mig här

Och sedan tar du mig också.

Tar mig till jag vet inte var.

Hemligheter du inte vill dela

är inte rätt,

Eller är det?

(Swedish translation Kent Anderson)


Day After (3 versions) 2013

Day After #1

One day

After New Year’s Eve;

Thirteen sun years

After millennium:

Continuation ordinaire,

Nothing changed but numbers.

What makes dates so great?

Why fireworks

To signalize, nay, celebrate

A time that’s anyway here/gone?

I am a yin/yang person

Thinking all the time –

What’s there to make a fuss

About when it’s a fiction?


Day after New Year is

Continuation ordinaire:

Nothing changed except the number.

I‘m a yin/yang, pro-con person

Celebrating time that’s done.

Why the fireworks

When it’s a fiction?



One day

After New Year’s Eve;

Thirteen sun years after


Continuation ordinaire,

Nothing changed but numbers.

What makes dates so great?

Why the fireworks

To signalize

A time that’s anyway here/gone?

I am a yin/yang person

Thinking all the time –

What’s there to celebrate

When it’s a fiction?

Day After 1.2.2009/2013

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Birth, Death & In Between;

Circling Round Time; Circling Round Reality;

Circling Round Vanities;

Arlene Corwin

2012 in review Arlene Corwin Poetry have-a-look

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The new Boeing 787 Dreamliner can carry about 250 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,500 times in 2012. If it were a Dreamliner, it would take about 6 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Frozen In Time 2010

         Frozen In Time

 The tendency,

The wish to be

The shiny sun of twenty-one

That looked out from

A malleable place

Inside that face

Of innocence and gullibility;

Mute kingdom

Of the ignorant.

One sees the now-jowls,


And asks oneself

Would I prefer to be

Time frozen, young forever?


I know all about it.

I’m re-routed;

More alive than Arlene

Twenty smooth-faced Nover ever


Circling Round Wrinkles; Circling Round Nature; Pure Nakedness;

Arlene Corwin

© Frozen In Time; 5.1.2010 

Fooling Father Time 2008

        Fooling Father Time

Is Father Time a father?

Really, truly a creator?

A protector?

If it’s true, why do we trick

And flatten out new wrinkles – use the

Twinkly toes on rows of cream and salves?

If he were father, everybody’s kindly father,

Why would life be linear?

Smooth, chubby bodies

Turning skinnier,

Men and women readier

And ready for…their graves?

But we’re ‘worth it’,

Buying l’oreals and restylanes

And product lines to shave the lines

That so-called Father you’re-so-vain Time

Lays on us for what?

The point? There seems no point

In fooling ‘round with, fooling time –

And you don’t have to call him father.

© Fooling Father Time 9.21.2008

Birth, Death & In Between; Circling Round Nature;

Circling Round Wrinkles; Time; Circling Round Vanities;

Arlene Corwin



Looking At Sean Connery, Eighty 2010


Looking At Sean Connery, Eighty

 Looking at Sean Connery

(In magazines my sister in-law gives me)

I think, “Looking good!”

Then I think, “Perhaps that’s ‘cause he

Has a beard.

How easy when you’ve got a beard –

A moustache too.”

When I reach eighty,

Can I be a Connery,

Looking good as Sean?

Moustache, beard are out

(Not that I couldn’t grow one.)

Now to find that inner clout

To keep my world a stage,

Fool age

While wrinkle weighs down

Cheek, jaw, chin.

Fall back on


Obvious. yes?

Birthday Book; Circling Round Wrinkles; Circling Round Vanities;  Circling Round Time; Special People, Special Occasions;   Arlene Corwin

© Looking At Sean Connery Eighty 9.20.2010



I Am The Past 2010

I Am The Past

I am the past.

I am no longer what goes on.

I have, I work the present,

But when reading magazines I see,

I am the past.

It isn’t strange.

I change,

The latest scenes

Don’t interest me – repetitions

So familiar;

Shifted, substituted: names.

Everything on offer screams:

I am the past.


© I Am The Past 9.17.2010 Our Times, Our Culture; Circling Round Time;  Arlene Corwin

My Middle Name Is Faith 2001 2004

         My Middle Name Is Faith

It’s not that I don’t like it,

It’s that I’ve not yet embraced it,

Happening as it does, or seems

To do, so quickly overnight.

A process that I still don’t understand – not quite.

An age, the wrong side of the wrong side;

Stronger, weaker, ripened, mellow;

Still a seeker; seasoned fellow

Still preparing.

There are signs of maturation,

Both the rotting and the sprouting,

Yet the outer still concerns me:

Hanging, wrinkling, liver spots,

Graying hair and graying grin,

Growths like grain,

Red blotches, blots

Of pigment loss on what was porcelain;

Dropping off, a muted snore,

Dryness in the privates sore;

Swellings, shrinkings, pills galore –

Costing more

Than they are worth.

It comes so quickly, or it seems to –

Deficits and extra needs

In karmic keeping with the deeds.

Still, it fosters going inwards,

Digging deeper, hunting it;

Hunting something fall- and spring-less,


In its self.

My middle name is faith.

©My Middle Name Is Faith 4.19.2001 2.5.2004

Circling Round Woman; Time; Circling Round Nature;

Birth, Death & In Between; Circling Round Wrinkles;  Arlene Corwin




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