A/The/My Way (redone)

         A/The/My Way

 I never knew I had a ‘way’.

And still it shows up day by day

Laws but felt, themes unmeant;

Through sudden fountains of content;

Through many offshoots but one road,

No signposts to direct or goad.

Still it is:

A kiss of fate though non-insistent,

Usually

An accident and serendipitous.

 

And because, and just because it is a whisper

I’ve no choice

But to

Tune into

And obey,

Swaying to its hinted push,

The glint of pressure

Nothing but a pure, faint sureness

And a pleasure.    

            

Minutes past I ate three plastic plates of pasta.

Forgive this frilly, dilly of a joke.

I can be such a silly yokel

With punch/pun-ny lines that hit my funny bone(s).

 

Now I sit with pen in hand

On my verandah, in the wind,

Thankful for not understanding

Karma’s muted law un-grand,

Inscrutable but suitable

To me alone – one on her own

Within the actions and concerns.

 

A/The/My Way 8.6.2017

Pure Nakedness; Revelations Big & Small; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II;

Arlene Corwin

A/The/My Way

I never knew I had a ‘way’.

And still it shows up da by day

Laws but felt, themes unmeant;

Through sudden fountains of content;

Through many offshoots but one road,

No signposts to direct or goad.

Still it is:

A kiss of fate though non-insistent,

Usually

An accident and serendipitous.

 

And because, and just because it is a whisper

I’ve no choice

But to

Tune into

And obey,

Swaying to its hinted push,

The glint of pressure

Nothing but a pure, faint sureness

And a pleasure.

 

———-

 

Minutes past I ate three plastic plates of pasta.

(a pun-ny lie, but funny)

Now I sit with pen in hand

On my verandah, in the wind,

Thankful for not understanding

Karma’s muted law un-grand,

Inscrutable but suitable

To me alone,

One on her own

Within the schemes and actions of concern.

 

A/The/My Way 8.6.2017

Pure Nakedness; Revelations Big & Small;

Arlene Corwin

It Has Been A Lifetime Of…

It has been a lifetime of, well, meditation:

Meditation/prayer, prayer weaker

(more appeal and supplication

Than an offering without a question).

 

Not really lifetime, I admit, but,

Years and years of seeking It,

Approaching It, trying to find, bind Arlene

With hope that she’ll become more than a hopeless dope;

Hope and that arcane, otherworldly word

That rhymes with earth and mirth and forth and wraith:

 

“What can it be?”(said she inscrutably).

Of course, it’s faith!

The hardest of the hard.

(Don’t let them kid you what they say they’ve got it)

Faith both gift and hard, hard practice.

Owning, losing day to day.

 

It’s been a lifetime – that’s for sure.

But life continues now to now:

Day to day, year to year

And meditation and the prayer

(Each in its place) continue too.

The real me

Still uncompleted

As of our poetic meet

This very heartbeat.

 

It’s Been A Lifetime Of…7.13.2017

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Pure Nakedness;

Arlene Corwin

Tipsy

           Tipsy

I was tipsy last night,

Quite enjoyed it.

Drinking just a thimbleful one time a year,

And there was I, a stumblebum, but clear

In head,

Dutifully fulfilling all that needed

To be done.

A charming, wonderful sensation – fun.

And yet, I thought about my liver.

Will I ever, no, I’ll never

Be a drinker,

I’m too much a thinker

And a Jew.

And if you didn’t know

We Jews are not great drinkers,

Just great thinkers,

Contrite sinners on Yom Kippur

Nobel winners,

Alcohol not in our tribe.

And so, it is not likely I’ll imbibe

Too many jiggers wine or booze;

Too many calories

And I don’t want to lose

My liver’s life too soon –

Or looks, or senses or the boon

Of brain and knowing

Who I am

And who I’m born

To be.

Tipsy 7.1.2017

Pure Nakedness;

Arlene Corwin

 

           Tipsy

I was tipsy last night.

Quite enjoyed it,

Drinking just a thimbleful one time a year,

And there was I, a stumblebum, but clear

In head,

Dutifully fulfilling all that needed

To be done.

A charming, wonderful sensation – fun.

And yet, I thought about my liver.

Will I ever, no, I’ll never

Be a drinker,

I’m too much a thinker

And a Jew.

And if you didn’t know

We Jews are not great drinkers,

Just great thinkers,

Contrite sinners on Yom Kippur

Nobel winners,

Alcohol not in our tribe.

And so, it is not likely I’ll imbibe

Too many jiggers wine or booze;

Too many calories

And I don’t want to lose

My liver’s life too soon –

Or looks, or senses or the boon

Of brain and knowing

Who I am

And who I’m born

To be.

Tipsy 7.1.2017

Pure Nakedness;

Arlene Corwin

 

Some Kind Of Sadness

I seem to have a mark of sadness

I don’t see when writing.

But when read again,

Plain as the nose upon my face

I see it and I say:

Am I that doleful soul

Whose miles of smiles

Make each day,

An inner and an inner, inner

Spurned when I’m awake?

A Janus or an understand-er of existence,

Real both? Real or both?

I know-eth not

And do not care.

I’m where I ought to be:

Here always.

Some Kind Of Sadness 6.25.2017

Pure Nakedness;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

Thinking Clearly

 

I’m simply trying

To think clearly,

Times and destiny against me.

 

Not alone, it is we all.

A world of digits and addictions,

New temptations:

‘Lead me not into temptation…’.

 

Tiny hippocampus shrinking even more than ever,

It’s an effort,

I admit.

A part of words, a part of worlds

Inside a frame that gilds the lily,

Curls around reality

Like smoke from chimney.

 

Headlines chronically bad,

Chronicles of planetary sadness –

World of digits,

World on fire,

World that cultivates desire,

It is all the harder to think clearly

And sincerely:

Ergo, I

Am trying as a consequence,

To change the sequence

And think plainly, deeply,

Patently, indubitably

Clearly.

Thinking Clearly 6.18.2017

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II: Pure Nakedness;

Arlene Corwin

 

Previous Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: