Arlene Corwin Poetry

               I Love The Discipline…

I love the discipline of form and meters.

Crummy, yummy twitterings

To turn a base, base/superficial

Into something interstitially aesthetic, helpful.

What it is that gives this gift I’ll never know,

But there it is – a discipline addictive;

A dictation from below;

Not just adding to an increase in IQ,

Nor the storehouse of expressing,

Nor of word when crossword puzzling;

No, a serendipity with aspects heavenly.

A guzzling from an endless well of secret knowledge,

Sacred knowledge for the few.

But earthy too.

Anyway, as we of poet’s tree like saying,

When you find an impulse that you can’t resist,

Don’t, you hear, anti-resist,

But kissed by It

Continue till the whole caboodle* springs your noodle**

And the lights go out.

^{I Love The Discipline…4.13.2018 The Processes; Creative, Thinking, Meditative III, Arlene Corwin}

^{*caboodle |kəˈboōdl| (also kaboodle)}

^{noun (in phrase the whole caboodle or the whole kit and caboodle) informal}

^{the whole number or quantity of people or things in question.}

^{ORIGIN mid 19th cent. (originally U.S.): perhaps from the phrase kit and boodle, in the same sense (see kit 1 , boodle ).}

^{** noodle 2}

^{noun informal}

^{a stupid or silly person.}

• ^{a person’s head.}

^{New Oxford American Dictionary}