Approaching Eighty-Four

Approaching Eighty-Four🌈🧘‍♀️🎹🎙

I’ve done this before:
Approached an age ending in -four,
Each ode not odious, just curious.
We try again, thinking a-fresh,
Looking back perhaps, or not at all,
Each day too precious to make small
By wasting time
Or spending energy so prime
One can’t afford to lose a moment.

So, the four shall represent a forward;
Optimistic, filled with power
For and in the precious hour;
Looking pretty
For each meeting –
Why the devil not? One’s got
A draw full of cosmetics –
Why not use them up,
Take priorities inborn,
Sworn in by gene-filled gifts and such,
And stay in touch.
“Know yourself” says Socrates.
“Please yourself”, says Corwin.
Integrating both, the tightest squeeze
Can be a breeze, can save your skin,
Transform a sin to virtue.

So, this eighty-four
Will use the talents and affections,
Making use of recollections and reflections
For a future
Filled with skilled and skilful, single-minded concentrations.

Approaching Eighty-Four 8.28.2018 Birthday Book; Birth, Death & In Between III; Pure Nakedness II; Circling Round Aging; Circling Round Energy; Circling Round Time II; I Is Always You Is We; Lessons To Be Learned; Nature Of & In Reality, Arlene Nover Corwin

Still Needing Reminders #2

Still Needing Reminders #2📖✍️🤔(it’s better than #1, I think)

How long does it take to be a person
Who does not need reminders?
There have always been
Those men and women fully mended
And full-ended
Who learned all the burdens, meaningfulness,
Sum and substance
Of reality:
In other words, its essence.

Incarnation, seer, saint,
Completed men and women
Who know of life for what it ‘ain’t’
And what it truly represents
Here and possibly beyond.

In that case,
How long should it take, for me,
And probably for you,
To get to be that total human
One so much looks up to.

One works, strives perhaps, for lives.
One thinks at times one’s climbed the climb,
Attained its aim,
Achieved, accomplished… then one’s lame,
Where one must climb some more,
Renew the ‘brilliant’ store
Of insight that one thought one had,
Life’s underlying gladness passed
(or is it past?).

That’s when books come down once more
From well-stocked shelf;
One searches once again for self
Through words of those who saw the light;
Whose insights helped and help your night:
Your dark night of the soul*

Stage set,
Sage is met.
You’ve been re-minded and re-souled;
Not far off from whole again –
Till then.

Still Needing Reminders 10.10.2018 Revelations Big & Small; To The Child Mystic II; Circling Round Reality; God Book II I Is Always You Is We; Arlene Nover Corwin

Still Needing Reminders

Still Needing Reminders

How long does it take to be a person

Who does not need reminders?

There have always been

Those men and women fully mended

And full-ended

Who learned all one needs

To know about the, sum and substance

Of reality: its essence.

 

Incarnation, seer, saint,

Completed men and women

Who know of life for what it ‘ain’t’

And what it truly represents

Here and, for all I know, beyond.

 

In that case,

How long should it take, for me,

And probably for you,

To get to be that total human

One so much looks up to.

 

One works, one strives perhaps, for lives.

One thinks at times, one’s climbed the climb,

Attained its aim,

Achieved, accomplished… then one’s lame,

Where one must climb some more,

Renew the ‘brilliant’ store

Of insight that one thought one had,

Life’s underlying gladness passed

(or is it past?).

 

That’s when books come down once more

From well-stocked shelf;

One is searching once again for self

Through words of those who saw the light;

Whose insights helped and help your night:

Your dark night of the soul*

 

Stage set,

Your sage is met.

You’ve been re-minded and re-souled;

Not far off from whole again –

Till then.

Still Needing Reminders 10.10.2018 Revelations Big & Small; To The Child Mystic II; Circling Round Reality; God Book II; I Is Always You Is We; Arlene Nover Corwin

 

 

 

Sometimes I Wake Up Thinking…

Sometimes I Wake Up Thinking…🤔✍️

Sometimes I wake up thinking,
“Day, what do you want for me?
What do you want from me?”
Are they my secret wishes showing?
Is it knowing that to get you give?
That nothing’s gotten without giving in and up and out?
Neurological?
Chronologically fixed
And pre-determined?

It is logical that when you dream
There’s more than ‘seeming’,
Something really happening
To demonstrate your longing(s)
Where alternatives are non-existent.

Thus, each day one ought to sense
Each road that’s meant,
Obeying from each day to day
With faith that it turns out ok,
Acceptance being key,
The dreaming, waking, longing all
A part of plans belonging solely
To a fate all yours and personal.
Not logical, but breathing’s only
Course of action.

Sometimes I Wake Up Thinking… 10.6.2018 Circling Round Reality; Nature In & Of Reality; I Is Always You Is We; Arlene Nover Corwin

Found On Scraps

                              Found On Scraps

Found this on a piece of lined paper written in pencil, dated June 6, 2003.  It is now October 2, 2018

You can be alone and not know your aloneness.

You can be alone, not knowing what aloneness means.

When that state exists, it’s wandering. 

 

(I wonder what I meant by that?  A good word though: wandering)

 

We are alone.

A mono-tone inside ourselves

From day one to day’s numbered last:

A you-ly true and truly you.

The few who know this are not lonely.

Call it peace, joy, blessedness.

 

The difference between action and activity:

Action: what you take to move.

Activity: the hubbub of our restless groove. 

Both seed, indeed.

Both good and bad.

 

You are yourself. 

You cannot always ‘get there’ –

’There’ a place made out of grace.

When you miss it (as in ‘feel the need for’)

Know that you are somewhere near.

When missing’s missing

You’re awake but you are not aware.

 

On the move, the syntax of your life is mixed,

Not knowing your aloneness,

Who-you-are-ness

On the toilet, in the shower,

Every second, every hour.

Born and dying is a solo act,

A truly you.

But don’t be blue.

It is not loneliness or friendlessness,

But just a simple fact of nature

To be used as you mature

To give fulfilment of the innate dream

That is life’s inborn aim.

Found On Scraps 10.2.2018 Birth, Death & In Between III; Nature In & Of Reality; I Is Always You Is We; Arlene Nover Corwin

The Highest Prize

       The Highest Prize

I am not intelligent;

IQ middling, slow to think

(except when I’ve had caffeine’s drink))

I know people whose vocabulary,

Skills in math and history

Outdo, surpass and outshine mine

By kilometres miles,

Eclipsing talents, each outrivaling  

My wiliest of guiles.

 

And yet, and yet

I lie or sit 

And never quit

Creating verse.

My biggest blessing, little-lest curse

To (all the time) be struck by phrase

That never hazes, 

Never dazes or confuses.

Simply takes my life and uses it.

Perhaps fusing the parts, (I hope)

Unjoined or compromised or dopey.

Of course, being the seated type

That learned to type when just a tike,

I snap things up and write them down,

Typing up and clipping to with paper clip

Each page of quip and deepest scrip*

While taking ownership of ideas wise

And ideas definitely dippy.** 

 

I admit, without self praise, 

That I’ve been blessed with artist-joy.

(A gift I didn’t have to buy

It being given me for free).

The gift to knock together, forge concoct,

Then synthesise chords, words, whatnot…

The highest prize I could’ve got.

 

Perhaps intelligence is overrated.

One can feel complete and sated

By a zillion other qualities:

Not sensory but definitely

Meeting needs:

Ones that feed the world as well.

All other prizes, as you know,

Gone to the hell of false impression’s phantom spell:  

Of no importance whatsoever.

The Highest Prize 9.30.2018 I Is Always You Is We; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Arlene Nover Corwin

*(written certificate)

**(scatterbrained, silly or eccentric).

There Is No One Method

            There Is No One Method 

To Remember:

There is no one method, 

No one anything that works for all.

No food, no style, no exercise, no smile.

One ‘does’ as circumstance demands

Adapting to the moment, strands

Of will-less-ness  in stillness,

And a stillness in the will-less-ness.

 

Often, mostly, dare I mutter,

Driven by the smut of fear

Undercurrent dragging us

Down into pools that spiral, whirl

And worst of all,

Of which we’re not aware,

There tumbling round us, 

Recognised too late

As fate – no, fright.

There Is No One Method 9.20.2018 Definitely Didactic II;I Is You Is Me Is We;Circling Round Yoga II; Arlene Nover Corwin 

  

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