You Can’t Beat A Book

You Can’t Beat A Book✍️📚📖📕📗📘

📙
All kinds of new and fangled means –
The latest bangle; trendy,
Industry’s technology
Will never meet
The human need to touch and fondle.

Who can touch a digit?
You can fidget with devices,
Till the cows come home.
Nothing can replace a tome.

What woman in a bookclub
Would prefer to dub
An ebook as the next weeks title?
Scrolls and parchment are immortal,
Reproducible for centuries.
Digit language zero/one can only chortle
As each zero/one ceases to be
In cyberspace vacuity.

Throughout all time
Books have been memorised,
Their novelists immortalised.
Would you feel wise, have won a prize
By memorising words you’ve seen
On screens backed by machines
You can’t depend on?

I am sure you’d rather
Smell the leather
Etched by some expert engraver
With a genius and a love for covers.

You can’t beat a book
For reading, touching, smell and look
With not a cell that needs rebooting.
It’s in man’s genetic cast
To hit upon ideas; the race is curious.
But progress is a crook that hooks,
Invites
Yet blights
For just that reason:
Both a blessing and a prison.

Books have content, naturally.
Bad, good, middling, for they
Represent the sweep of thought
In all its magnanimity,
Eventual polarity.

I write about the book as object,
And maintain you cannot beat
A book for ‘tweeting’
And completing thought as art.

You Can’t Beat Books 11.28.2018 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin
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Whatever You Concentrate On…

Whatever You Concentrate On (Is Where Your Mind Will Go)🧘‍♀️✍️

Whatever you concentrate on
Is where your mind will go.
And where mind goes
Is chaos or bliss,
Contentment’s piece of paradise,
Well-being’s peace in the same place…

But who can concentrate?
So few.
Can you?
If not,
It’s time to start.

Concentration is the heart
Of quieting the mind;
And quieting the mind
Provides control,
Conveys to soul
Its role
In quality
And quantity.

What does it mean to concentrate?
Simply put:
To bring one’s focus toward a pivot,
Stay there,
And it doesn’t matter why or where:
The chosen theme’s what matters.
In scientific parlance,
It’s to strengthen the proportion of a substance
By reducing or diluting
So the form that’s left Is optimum.
Envision sum, force, power,
You, the flower
Of your future.

Lose the blues!
Ponder, muse!
Deliberate! Contemplate!
Nourish life and make things right:
Focus well and concentrate!

Whatever You Concentrate On 11.25.2018 Nature In & Of Reality; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative Ii; Arlene Nover Corwin

To Those Who Feel Alone

In response to a TV insert on the feeling of remoteness and aloneness or, of someone who has lost a loved one.


           To Those Who Feel Alone🤔✍️

It is a philosophic truth – just is,

Everything that you experience

Everyone does too.

Everything you’ve undergone,

Everyone has also.

It’s only ever variations on a theme,

A transient beam

And only that.

Aloneness, sadness, longing;

You feel you are the only in the world: the wronged one, 

And you feel even more forlorn.

It is an ego’s ignorance,

A vanity and innocence.

If only you could learn this,

You’d become and stay harmonious.

You are distinct, particular,

Original, unique and yet,

You’re ordinary, general, one of the many…

Army of…  Don’t fret!  You are society,

The world.

A rosebud.

To Those Who Feel Alone 11.24.2018 I Is Always You Is We; Arlene Nover Corwin

That Instead Of Why

That Instead Of Why🤔
(Gosh, I wish a Facebook entry had the possibility of italics. If it does, I can’t find it. Forgive me reader. You’ll just have to put the emphasis on what you will).
But do, do read it. It’s an indispensable concept.

THAT Instead of WHY✍️

It is an old Buddhistic view
(Or so I’ve read).
So, what I say is nothing new
(as I sit up in bed
reflecting
Over life’s significance –
And it’s technique.
Life is the dance – a dance
Of ‘now’ and ‘change’, its ‘change’ in ‘now’,
The ever-now the ‘is’ of all;
The ‘always change’ the part that is
The core dynamic, a-romantic,*
‘Now’ being both force and static.
Think about it.

Life is ‘that’ instead of ‘why’.
There’s always ‘why’
But ‘why’ takes mental time away
From what is happening,
Is actual, transpiring, arising, being…
Why is downright tiring.

The moral is to not spend time in questioning,
But throw yourself into the acting,
Focussing on what’s in you
As world goes round,
As life flies by,
As outer problems grow and sigh.

Life is ‘that’ and what gives meaning,
Life is that which shows the way:
Yours, no other’s.
Therefore don’t be smothered by
Analysis. The truth will show
In every choice your mind gives voice to.

That is what your inner knows
In its capacity to grow.
An inner guide and light bulb glowing
In each juncture of the maze of days
You spend on terra’s firma: Praise
It all!

(‘a-‘ meaning the prefix not).

That Instead Of Why 11.3.2018 Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Reality; Arlene Never Corwin

My Unconventional Life

My Unconventional Life (to be continued, surely)

Awake with something wholly different on my mind:
That darned poetic drive
With its machinery and striving taking over,
Skin-deep first, reasoned second, (wisdom in),
Rhyme and meter; fun as fun,
Scholar sage replacing age.

I’ve become a Pavlov’ dog.
Waking up,
A milk-in-coffee cup,
Some vitamins ingested.
Nightgown dressed, pillow still pressed,
My Siamese twin, a pen and pad;
Ideas suggested
By a phrase I’ve read in bed
Or see on TV right before me:
Put together by a brain that’s mine
And that strange force one can’t define;
Force I cannot find and do not try to –
There, I know through
Ageing’s power of maturation.

A conglomeration.
One more daily benediction.
An endorsement of support;
A go-aead, thumbs up, a sign of admiration
Coming from a no place in particular.

Day launched, there’ll be some potpourri,
Some medley, miscellany
Gathering as day goes on,
The hours showing what to do;
The ‘whats’ a multitude, the ‘whats’ a few.

So like a Schwarzenegger,
“I’ll be back” to speak to you
Through word or song or what I’m equal to
That day, that time, that juncture.

My Unconventional Life 11.22.2018 Pure Nakedness II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II: Arlene Nover Corwin

My Unconventional Life

      My Unconventional Life

     (to be continued, surely)

 

Awake with something wholly different on my mind:

That darned poetic drive

With its machinery and striving taking over,

Skin-deep first, reasoned second, (wisdom in),

Rhyme and meter; fun as fun,

Scholar sage replacing age.

 

I’ve become a Pavlov’ dog.

Wake up,

A  milky coffee cup,

Some vitamins ingested.

Nightgown dressed, pillow still pressed,

My Siamese twin, a pen and pad;

Ideas suggested

By a phrase I’ve read in bed

Or see on TV right before me:

Put together by a brain that’s mine

And that strange force one can’t define;

Force I cannot find and do not try to –

There, I know through 

Ageing’s power of maturation.

 

A conglomeration.

One more daily benediction.

An endorsement of support;

A go-aead, thumbs up, a sign of admiration

Coming from a no place in particular.

 

Day launched, there’ll be some potpourri,

Some medley, miscellany

Gathering as day goes on,

The hours showing what to do;

The ‘whats’ a multitude, the ‘whats’ a few.

 

So like a Schwarzenegger, 

“I’ll be back” to speak to you

Through word or song or what I’m equal to

That day, that time, that juncture.

 

My Unconventional Life 11.22.2018 Pure Nakedness II; Birth, Death & In Between III; Arlene Nover Corwin

A Prophet Almost Never Profits (In His Own Home Town)

The phrase came through at a sleepless 3am.  Couldn’t resist, of course. 

A Prophet Almost Never  Profits  (In His Own Home Town) 

Friends have a view of you

That’s partly/seldom/never true.

Take a man and wife:

Seldom on each other’s wavelength.

Keep evolving.

Don’t expect applause;

Expectoration maybe (sadly).

Character and person what it is, you can’t

Require anyone to understand.

Keep evolving.

 

No one knows but you – perhaps a chosen few,

The depth of insight you impart.

You’re not a braggart.

Keep evolving.

 

Laugh, live, giving all you can.

Need no recognition,

Recognition the illusion!

History and legend

Tell the fatal end of

Jesuses and Joans of Arc,

Inventors, artists, scientists…

The lists go on.

 

So, misinterpreted, wise, good,

Relax and keep on getting better,

Without one small letter

Of desire for validation 

Or a single commendation. 

 

Friends you grew with, 

Kin you played with,

Neighbours living right next door

Will always house a poor and limited 

Idea of you, since all idea

Is mere

Projection.

Keep evolving.

 

Learn this precept and relax.

Cut the bands with thinking’s axe.

Stretching, changing, giving out

The best you’re got,

And like the laughing Buddha,

In your secret philosophic hall,

Call to lips a prophet’s ha, ha, ha! 

And go on being prophet.

A Prophet Almost Never Profits… 11.21.2018 Circling Round Reality;To The Child Mystic II; Definitely Didactic II; Arlene Nover Corwin

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