Arlene Corwin Poetry

     I’m sorry and sad that this comes out of my brain, but it does at the moment.  For among the ubiquitous money orientated TV competitions are the ever-present newscasts with their on-the-spot reporting.
As usual, I’ve worked and reworked this to produce a piece of art.

              Chaos & Teargas
Chaos and teargas once again

WhenAll that I want is to pass

The rest of my years

In a state of placidity.
How to?

I’m sure it’s an end you want too:

All of you, each of you 

Out there, wherever 

You chance to be placed.

With nearly the yearly Thanksgiving

For most of us living                                 

In places of peace,

Exposed to the chaos while sitting

In chairs or on couches –

Not crouching or fleeing, 

Pursued by a fleet of policemen or soldiers,

We miss being fodder.How lucky we are!

Yet we, suffused

With the anger and violence

While eating our turkey and cranberry sauce,

Exhausted and worried from scurrying youngsters, flurries of gangsters, burying mothers…

Smothering gases of withering fires,

And masses of dawdling, dithering leaders,

Chaos and teargas the emblem for hire.

Chaos & Teargas 11.17.2019 OurTimes, Our Culture II; Arlene Nover Corwin

The owner of this site requested
That each member guest
“Reply from home,
How long is it since you wrote a poem?”

Thus, I answer with this if not gem, creme de la creme,
This dime-store ode, oversimplified
In black and white:
I write both day and night,
Honing craft and new idea.
So there! My answer!

As for quiz’s rest, the answers this:
I do not read nor buy, do not compare;
All I do is write and share
With tear or cheer – sometimes despair,
Observing worlds inside and out.

I do not mind the corny couplet,
Admire, seek exciting verbs
But try to minimise the adjective;
Love conjunctions, knowing they can be a crutch;
But seek to use them not-too-much.
(they are so tempting).
So, kevin@allpoetry, in hope this bit of poesy
Is quite enough to more than amply satisfy
The little guest-test-quest.
I rest my case.
Writing Everyday 11.16.2019 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative; Arlene Nover Corwin

          Sifting Through The Dross

Fire, flood,

War and blood –

It is no wonder I can’t stand

The papers and TV,

Those apps aimed right at me,

The dearth of quality,

The deprivation, loss of lives,

The angst it gives.

Preferring comedy,

Cartoons by Disney…

Am I cowardly?  

Maybe.

Fixated on the negative but well aware

Of heroes all around each day, each year,

Deeds of goodness and devotion, 

Yet, there is this bleak emotion, yucky fear.

Another factor is the greed:

The pressured need for growth and profit.

Prophets sow salvation’s seeds.

Many listening, few that heed.

With much to win and much to lose,

One mostly feels the costly loss.

But sifting through the dross with trust,

Stably doing what one must,

One gets a glimpse of tunnel’s light,

Decides it’s worth a willing fight

And pushes on through restive night.

Sifting Through The Dross 11.15.2019

Our Times, Our Culture II; Arlene Nover Corwin

             Long Gone

I read about the clubs I worked in;

New York clubs where I began.

Read their names, which throw me back 

To days of playing nine to one

Or ten to two, 45 long minutes on

And fifteen minutes off;

A long, long night to play my stuff,

Smiling, singing soul and heart, 

Playing changes I hoped smart,

And always learning and collecting songs:

Now those clubs are all long gone.

I suppose we all have places, people,

We call gone.  

Ones which spawned one’s present form;

Times we were a pawn of time

And didn’t have a clue to climes

And days to come.

I don’t look back.

It’s not my nature.

All were steps: a nomenclature,

Nothing more.

I’ve put it all to pasture,

My reality a better now.

On the other hand,

These ‘long gones’ helped me grow.

I wouldn’t be if they’d not been.

Still singing, playing ‘spite the wrinkles.

Learning tunes that make me tingle.

All that ‘long gone’ was my own,

Reminiscing just an hour of fun.

Thank you fate and karma

For the way you form the day

And what it means, meant, leads to

In completing all one’s needs. 

Long Gone 2.9.2019 Pure Nakedness II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Stumbled upon this one while collating my next book “Circling Round Ageing”. Seeing ‘ deficiencies’, I’m revising it, the older version already in my book “Pure Nakedness” (page 30).

When I was young and immature I took a ‘no’ as absolute,
Not understanding that
A ‘no’ implies alternatives.
I lacked perspective.
Who looked for alternatives;
A complement, a supplement?

Without a doubt,
I gave myself deficiencies
Of every sort.
The diet that said don’t drink milk,
Did not say don’t get calcium.
Who knew?
Who knew the wrong side of obedience Is ignorance.
And so I’m thinking,
That’s how despots do their thing!
Ascetic Youth 6.1.2010 I Is Always We Is You; Pure Nakedness; Arlene
Corwin

I was thinking about all the misinformation that we walk around with in our heads, taking it as truth. 🤡🕵️‍♀️🦸‍♀️🌬🎣🧘‍♀️🤹‍♀️🎢🛤🔭

We believe ourselves
Through falsehoods, self-deception and delusion.
Trusting ‘false fact’ information,
Mental pictures, aberrations and assumptions.
We define them, pass them on
Without a grasp of what they are,
Where they sit,
And that they are composed of sh_t.🗣🧠💤📣

One need not be self-castigating
For mis- taking fakes as truth,
Not realising that we’re always showing who we are
By what we follow as our star,
Our choices based on tendencies and readiness,
Genes, means, circumstance of every sort
Which come from all and any source.

How to know what’s what, what’s not;
What is the truth and what Is rot.
What’s worthless rubbish or sheer
Estimation and conjuncture
Which inform our talk, behaviour.

Hence, mass killings with a ‘cause’,
Charities and who we feel for.
What we aim at, our ambitions,
Suppositions, postulations.

Reader do you get it?
Don’t rely on all you think.
The truth is out there somewhere,
Your ideas not necessarily the ‘There’ it’s at.
Ideas Are In Your Head 7.31.2019 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Putting on my lipstick and feeling silly.💄💋

You’ve never seen a stranger thing.
Hairs of new of varying
Extents and thicknesses, as well as colour.
And, if I forget to mention singular and double
In all facial parts.
Shall I become an old fart
Sooner than expected.
Or is this the start
Of something wholly
New and solely
A phenomenon belonging just to me.
No matter. It’s a pesky,
Tiresome, exasperating thing
To see the ring of old, old age
A-growing in this new stage
Of an ageing dame.
Damn!
Growing Hairs Everywheres 7.29.2019 A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Circling Round Ageing; Circling Round Vanities II; Arlene Nover Corwin