The Making Of Perfect Love

     The Making Of Perfect Love

The sex is simple.

Though there’s pattern, never boring.

Feeling new, e’en better every time.

How can that be?

The years have passed the ‘sell by’ date,

And one knows couples who

Are either bored to death or hate

The touch, approach,

Who douche

Just to escape the loathing

(even some who wear their clothing

into bed).

 

But with us, we focus.

Simple, the affection real,

Start so gradual

It’s hardly recognizable as such.

As for the finish,

Since there never was a start,

It sometimes has no end,

Just petering from aged tiredness

With never a dissatisfaction,

Life and day continuing

In the most natural of ways.

 

The Making of Perfect Love 5.9.2017

Circling Round Eros II; Pure Nakedness, Circling Round Aging; Love Relationships II;

Arlene Corwin

Happy Birthday, Daddy Dear

   Happy Birthday, Daddy Dear

Happy birthday once again,

Daddy dear. April fifteen,

And you’re not here to share it

For you died so many years ago.

(the year before we reached two thousand).

But the fifteenth rolls around

And somehow sounds a chord inside me.

This year happens to be

Pesach, Easter;

Easy to remind myself.

You would have been one hundred nine –

Not unattainable

As age today.

But still you went celestially.

I hope you’re happy

As I wish you happy birthday anyway.

So with a happy memory,

I’ll say happy goodbye

And start

A hopeful, happy day.

 

Happy Birthday, Daddy Dear 4.15.2017

Birthday Book; Love Relationships II;

Arlene Corwin

Alice Is In Wonderland

   Alice Is In Wonderland

Alice got sick.

A dulling fur – a cancer here and there.

Don’t know how, don’t know why,

(We never know how, why we’ll die).

Bad and sad for doggies

And for those who hold them dear.

The vet urged she be put to sleep –

It had gone far.

It went in seconds. Not a peep

From Alice, just one beat, a bleep

And she was gone;

A little soul taken in hand

By doggy heaven land, a wondrous land.

Alice is in Wonderland.

 

Alice Is In Wonderland 3.24.2017

Birth, Death & In Between II; Love Relationships II;

Arlene Corwin

The Cold Revised

A prophet’s never known

Among her own –

Especially by one she’s wed to.

He’s abed.

He’s got a cold.

She’s got hold of techniques potent:

Pressure on those points oblique,

Baths and steam,

And as I speak,

Gone phlegmy pangs

And reams of snot

From sinuses and nose and throat.

Alas, alack, he’s stuck all stuffy, prone,

He and his cold,

Alone.

 

Words in the air

Don’t reach his ear

Or mind, and certainly not intellect.

He doesn’t want neglect

But can’t accept

The profit of the prophet.

So he coughs and sputters,

Spews and suffers.

She, not known

Among her own

No matter how ‘spot on’

The common Sense.

 

The Cold 11.15.2016

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Love Relationships II;

Arlene Corwin

The Cold

A prophet’s never known

Among her own –

Especially by one she’s wed to.

He’s abed.

He’s got a cold.

She’s got hold of techniques potent:

Pressure on those points oblique,

Baths and steam,

And as I speak,

Gone phlegmy pangs

And reams of snot

From sinuses and nose and throat.

Alas,

Alack,

He’s stuck

On sofa prone,

He and his cold,

Alone.

 

Words in the air

Don’t reach his ear

Or mind, and certainly not intellect.

He doesn’t want neglect

But can’t accept

The profit of the prophet.

So he coughs and sputters,

Spews and suffers.

She, not known

Among her own

No matter how ‘spot on’ the common

Sense

 

The Cold 11.15.2016

A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Love Relationships II;

Arlene Corwin

(Yet Another) Portrait Of A Friend

I have a friend

Who has a perfect memory.

You might think it’s a perfect gift.

We have to sift through thoughts –

That is, you, I – but he,

He pictures everything,

Recalls it all: dates, times, the history

Complete. What could be wrong

With knowing all the lyrics to each song

You hear?

Draw near, I’ll tell you:

 

He retains the good and bad.

He’s filtered nothing. Think if you should

Shoulder all the woes of life?

The sad, the mad, the wars, the strife?

Besides the perfect recall,

He sees everything in black and white:

It’s either awe-inspiring or shit.

I’d guess it’s vexing

To remember each and every second

And, on top of which, to have opinions strong,

Be never wrong: one of his ‘strong’ opinions .

Plus, he takes offense, pretends indifference.

Yet, we’re friends.

I always yield, always bend.

You see, I am indifferent

And I’m charmed.

 

(Yet Another) Portrait Of A Friend 10.19.2016

Love Relationships II; Special People, Special Occasions; Small Stories Book;

Arlene Corwin

I’ve Had Many Names

I’ve Had Many Names

 

Arlene Faith

Nover

Corwin,

Palmer,

Council,

Andersson:

All

Syllables

Two

But the last

Which was the last,

Which is the last.

 

Still, one is fastened

To the first –

The very first

One got at birth.

 

Now that this life is all but over,

Though one might rove some twenty more,

(Ending in you-know-what,

Though you do not think about it)

Arlene Faith Nover,

Has had many names.

 

I’ve Had Many Names 10.16.2016

Pure Nakedness; Love Relationships II; Birth, Death & In Between II; Birthday Book;

Arlene Corwin

 

Previous Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: