Very,Very & Fantastic

She struggles with each verb and noun,

Adjective, conjunction, article and even

Pronoun.

All to better brain:

Maintain

The art parts, smart parts,

A la carte parts.

 

There are leaders:

Chairmen of the boards who stay

Long adolescent in some way.

Ambitious, never swaying

From their standpoints, outlooks and perspective. Oy!

A very, very Oy yoy yoy!

 

“I am best! Don’t mess with me,

Don’t carp or bleat.

My words unquestionably

right

And those who choose to disagree…

Are rendered useless usefully.

My deeds, and all I nominate

Are very, very, very great!

I live on very un-elastic,

Very, very and fantastic!

 

Very, Very & Fantastic 7.29.2017

A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

In A Quandary

In a quandary. In a pickle.

Temptation and dependency;

Enslaved by self-indulgence;

Keenness that becomes a blend

Of day’s beginning and day’s end.

 

On the bus, inside the car,

Telephone beside the ear;

Walking, talking to yourself? Oh no,

It’s talking to a god-knows-who

For god-knows-why.

 

Am I the only person

Riled by this phenomenon?

Addiction to diversion

In the guise of help and benefit?

Yes, even these can dig the pit

Of hell-p-less-ness.

Information, facts mind-blowing, quick.

Fascination and allurement on a stick.

 

Having learned some new found tricks –

Heartening, supportive pick-me-ups,

One notices, (I notice) that the

‘Pickle’ quickly trickles down

Into those risky parts of vanity,

Its need for company

And other longings.

 

Frisky sports who gaily own

Desktops, laptops, Ipads, smart phones…

Know what I talk about:

Joy that takes you from yourself

While telling you it is yourself:

 

Programs, sites and violent games,

Interaction with big names –

Presidents and criminals –

All their problematic schemes:

Everything’s on board for every sort:

The bored, the interested, the scared.

The strong, the undecided: snared.

 

A sticky, tricky, muddled mess,

A sanctuary become quandary:

Game of chess and source of stress

And one we seldom choose to harness;

Goodness!

Can one win it?

I’m not sure. I’m in it.

 

In A Quandary 7.26.2017

Our Times, Our Culture II; Circling Round Reality;

Arlene Corwin

 

The Books I Write & Thoughts At Night

It’s 2am and I awaken.

Thoughts break in

And I begin:

 

I write the books.

Charming, informative.

They do not sell.

 

Carefully worked on and out until they gel,

Spontaneous but ne’er pell-mell,

Tight, concise, the format small;

Life’s storms,

Its call to arms,

A bawling at our time’s alarms,

Wailing ‘gainst life’s wailing wall,

Admiring the beauty of it all…

 

What e’er it is I have to tell:

They do not sell.

So what the hell!

 

But what is hell?

The poet’s railing wall?

Perhaps the tiresome need to sell.

 

The Books I Write & Thoughts At Night 7.12.2017

A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

 

The Books I Write & Thoughts At Night

 

 

 

Internet Down

           Internet Down
My Internet’s been downed
Like copters in the movie
Black Hawk Down. Not really.
A childish melodrama that speaks
Of need and weakness.
The company that charges
For the privilege of barging into planetary life
Has sold itself to one – more rich and more far-reaching.
Dependent wretch,
I’ll have to pay the higher rates. They hold the reins.

There being glitches in the starting up.
This gap a slap in Arlene’s face,
But missing Wikipedia and mail,
I’ve let them nail me.
Waiting for the Flash drive USB
To come, but gosh and golly,
It’s a four-day holiday.
The post has lost more days
(the post is slow in any case).
The therapy?
I’ve had to muse on facelessness and vanity.

A week of absence
From the Web-based
Superhighway cyberspace,
Digitally online
Will be fine –
A rest from showing off the ego;
A real place in real space;
One’s fancied expectations
Where you know deep down
That not one of the bodies out there
Really care,
But you.


Internet Down 6.4.2017
Small Stories; Circling Round Reality; Pure Nakedness; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Our Times, Our Culture II;
Arlene Corwin

Saying Political Things

               Saying Political Things

 

I suddenly find myself

Saying political things.

A president who has a name

That pumps out rhymes that rhyme with stump and thump and clump

So numerous, so humorous you try in vain

To stifle sniggering, giggling, trying to abstain

That is, when you are not afraid of what comes next,

(What, whose head will come undone on any pretext.)

I, who never had opinions of significance inside my head,

Find that I am sitting up in bed

Watching the news,

The countless views,

And find I’ve got some too!

The boohoo, screw you kind, and views about:

Is North Korea bad or mad?

Why is the crime rate rising?

Is it rising?

Not the least surprised

If it goes either way.

And so I say,

It’s unexpected to discover

Arlene Corwin (former Nover)

Faltering and altering, but taking stance,

Dancing around matters of importance,

Though they may be comical to you,

Positing her new-found thoughts political.

 

Saying Political Things 5.29.2017

Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

A Faster Cleanup


I’ve watched the documentaries,

Read the news and watched TV.

I wish I weren’t ordinary,

More pedestrian than I would wish to be,

Surrendering to traps of

Entertainment for diversion –

All those mediocre pastimes I accuse the herd

Of needing, and I shan’t excuse my nerdy being

Leaning on that chestnut ‘will is strong but flesh is weak’.

So before you puke I’ll speak

And say, we need a faster cleanup.

 

Plastic on the ocean bottoms,

Record heats and floods and rain.

Deserts spreading, Arctic’s melting: symptoms

Of the odium of inhumane

Expansions everywhere you look:

The Book of Crooked Modern-day,

Modernity’s last supper.

So, we need a faster cleanup

Mr. Trump

and all the others.

 

A Faster Cleanup 5.27.2017

Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

Building Walls

To build a wall beside your neighbor,

(though he be not dearest neighbor) –

Build a wall to hide your neighbor

And to hide yourself,

Is wrong as wrong can be.

Don’t you agree?

 

What neighbor has no overflow?

Is not magnifico?

Has not a folk to which we owe

Our history: our languages, our citizenry, heroes and mythology;

Poverty an un-destroy-able

“The poor are always with us” still, will always be.

 

What neighbor doesn’t ebb and flow,

Fail then grow?

He next store or ‘cross the border.

Not our job to build a fort

Against a fancied enemy.

 

Building Walls 5.22.2017

War Book II; Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin;

 

 

Previous Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: