Today’s Grandma

To grandmas everywhere:

         Today’s Grandma🧘‍♀️🏋🏻‍♀️🛩💞

Today’s grandmother wears mascara,
Lines her eyes and does her yoga;
Dyes her hair, does things galore:
Is galor-amorous.
She blogs, has sex, perhaps an ex – or two or three;
Young at heart, but based on luck and land’s abode.

Young-ish in her body,
Youngish, oldish, all grandmas have golden hues;
Unselfish roles and rules which add to
Richness of the yet unformed grandchild’s views,
To stick a lifetime long.
To be a grandma of today is not a swan nor evensong
But something fuller, more complete, replete with aspects
Never known or recognised before.

Today’s Grandma 5.22.2019 Love Relationships II; Arlene Nover Corwin

The Men In Sweden

  I was thinking about today’s trends, fascinated, amused and you might say, sociologically  interested.  As I write, they seem to be beards, moustaches, shaven heads, tattoos, veganism, longer skirts, and if I’ve left out anything (which I’m sure I have) let me know.
 There are such things - as in the case of the pointed shoe, things which I will always find bewildering (the pointed shoe deforming the foot in the long run); other areas and other items I cannot think of at the moment, but which, like the pointed shoe seem downright inconsiderate. 
 Remember the corset of the 1800’s (1700 hundreds?)where women could not breathe, men and women’s wigs where insects crawled,  the empire neckline on gauze-like, breast-wetted gowns where women died from pneumonia?   
 I really should entitle this poem simply Trends.

    The Men In Sweden…

The men in Sweden and elsewhere
Are looking older than they are
With whiskers, stubble, facial hair
Of every kind.
Beards, moustaches find their place
On almost every male face these days.
I’ve bet you’ve never heard
Of pogonophobia. A funny word
That means a fear of beards and beard!
There are such mental health conditions.
So I ask, why hide the manly jaw or chin.
A chin that’s manly out and in.
I fancy ego’s based on fear,
Vanity that’s always there.
Affectation, ostentation, airs and show –
All the traits that go along
With fear of judgment and rejection.
Don’t they know it’s all illusion,
And the only thing that matters
Is completion of the heart and mind that shatters all?
Finding out who, what you are
And working to complete it.
If you’re twenty-one or two, what can beat it?
If you’ve got a double, triple chin or none,
An open face is wonderfully
To be preferred.
Lose the beard
And keep the face!
You are a much loved member of the race.
A naked face is best to kiss!
What person would not favour this?
Shaved and clean is what I mean!
I mean a face that’s smooth and clean.
Dear men, don’t hide the face inside.
Nature’s pride is there to share
With those who at the moment stare
And wish that there was someone daring;
One to face the world un-twirled, un-curled,
And wholly, perfectly unfurled.
The Men In Sweden 9.8.2018 A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Circling Round Vanities II; Our Times, Our Culture II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Days Of Distraction

After a talk with a friend who complained of distractions which keep her from more practical and/or rewarding things.🧘‍♀️🎹👩‍🎤

                Days Of Distraction: A List 

What can they be? They seem to go on endlessly.
Helping out a friend in need,
Finding way to heed the needs, impeding or re-seeding Needs of friends in need.
Ignoring things that must be done plumping for fun and earning money.
Ignoring requisites of I, myself and me.
One key is structure, thinking practically of harmony
To suture me, myself to me.
Life is simple: here, a summed up sample
Which gives ample time to get the other
Tools which further sutured self to self-discover.

We need roof and warmth and simple food!
So simple and so straight, straight forward!
Days of duty and temptation, stress and tension –
These grown into modern parlance.
What to do about this dream, (for dream it is);
This a list and not a scheme nor plan or stratagem.
The answer lies in nought but thee (that’s you and me).
You’ll see what works eventually!

Days Of Distraction10.21.2017 I Is Always You Is Me; Arlene Nover Corwin


A Dire Confession

  While standing at the sink doing the dishes:🤔   
       A Dire Confession 😇

I’ve done my share
Of poisoning the air.
At eighty-four I want no more.
Shamefaced, conscience-stricken and guilt ridden,
I stand washing dishes, wishing what I can’t undo,
Intent on saying an adieu to:
Coffee grinds flushed down the sink,
Waxy cartons burned with doublethink:
Heat’s convenience, money’s worth;
Plastic, shop-to-home, then thrown out
Killing bee, plant, herring, trout.
From now it’s paper, cloth or fabric.
No more fabrication or excuse,
Sloughing off of duty’s onus.

Taking on responsibilities
To kith and kin, peoples of societies
Sink to hearth to planet earth.
A dire confession to the death:
No contaminants from apathy.
No disregard of cruelty
To animals that feed you/me,
Insecticides that have no meaning
Killing off with cancer-ed skill
People, plant and all things breathing.

From the mire of confession dire.
One day we’ll discuss gunfire.
For today, and my assignment:
Is the ever changing climate’s pattern
And disfigurement.
A Dire Confession 5.18.2019 Our Times, Our Culture II; Definitely Didactic; Arlene Nover Corwin

What Is It To Be Brave?

Today’s thought. (Isn’t thought a strange phenomenon? It chooses itself) 🤔

      What Is It To Be Brave?

Woke this morning wondering,
What is bravery? What does it mean to me?
How to be an entity of bravery?
I’ve seen it in all forms for life: lion, tiger, rat and spider.
Not oft’ on my mind, I ponder and conjecture:
Am I one such plucky creature?
If so, when, where, which conditions?
Do I face resistance, loss?
Is vanity a driving force – the boss?
Am I inclined to nosedive,
Fear the underlying drive?

So many nuances to grapple with
When putting bravery to paper –
Certainly a shaper of one’s destiny.
Linked to empathy, one’s chemistry?

No crusader – that I know about myself.
No debater – that I also know.
Adequate at facing failure? I don’t know.
I’m growing. That I know.
It doesn’t show, but in the nuance of each chance
I’m taking more.
Of course, one never can be sure.

To be unshrinking, unafraid, heroic
One must have within a stoic strain:
Calm, cool, unflappable and unafraid of pain
In all its parts. And uncomplaining too.
Is that me? And is that you?

What Is It To Be Brave? 5.14.2019 Pure Nakedness II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Collapsing In On Itself

Hello world! Though written in 1997, how I love this one (Happen to find it while editing “Swedish Book”).

. Collapsing In On Itself

A week-dead pike on local stone wall,
Placed there or dropped by some passing seagull
And ignored; once fresh and full now meagre and dull,
Is almost the same as the day that it came,
But entrails have started to go.
(Are they ‘entrails’? I don’t really know.)
Of course it has innards; the roe, liver gall,
And I’d guess there’s a stomach.
It think it’s a pike – maybe perch, not a haddock!
The thing that’s essential, its cardinal what-ness
Is something that shows now whenever I to pass it.
Everything rotten or heading that way,
Falls in on itself in its terminal rot-ness.

Collapsing In On Itself 8.16.1997/revised and amended 5.13.2019 Swedish Book; Circling Round Nature; Birth, Death & In Between; Nature Of & In Itself; Arlene Nover Corwin

Don’t Copy✍️

Don’t Copy Or, Have I Said This One Before? ✍️

When I write I try to not write what I’ve writ
The months before, knowing that
Each three clichés, each thrice said phrase
Is hinder to the mind’s synapse.

Used-up words five times five hundred,
Never wond’ring why I’ve done it:
I don’t want to copy –
Least of all myself and me. 

Falling for the trick that quickens death of brain
Are quirks and quips and bits of what
You’re sure has happened, quoted over, over.
Mind’s a rover needing change.

I have friends who still say “weird” to amplify each seventh word;
“Weird” since nineteen eighty-four.
What it means I’ve no idea.
And what is that word  ‘weird’ good for?
Change the words,
For copying yourself is worst.

Am I copying my back life story?
Parroting, regurgitating clichés,
Making up my history?
Faking mystery
To make myself exciting?

Copying is weakening
For you, for me, for memory.
Variety’s the key.
You do not need to copy.

     PS There’s a red line running through our lives: character, aptitudes, permanent throughout.  Bones grow up, grow old and change.  Penmanship changes.  Underneath there’s always a youyou recognize.  Keep it in the frontal lobe.  It’s there.

Don’t Copy 3.1.2015/revised 2.3.2016/ re-revised 9.27.2018 Definitely Didactic II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin

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