Where Is The I? 1994

     Where Is The I?

Where is the I behind the eye

I’m looking for right now?

How to spy my little I

Somewhere behind the brow.

I’d like to feel my I

The same way I can feel my thumb.

But all I feel when feeling for

My I is something numb.

I plumb the depths and scan the brain.

Split second spark, it’s come!

It’s there! The me as clear as rain;

A wave against a window pane –

And then it’s gone again,

A grain of consciousness gone dumb.

©Where Is The I? 94.8.24

To The Child Mystic;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

When I’m Allowed To Roam Around 1994

     When I’m Allowed To Roam Around

When I’m allowed to roam around

I become like everyone else:

Full of ambition, indecision,

Anxious, scared,

Ill- or over- prepared

And nervous –

Not thinking of service to anyone

Other than self and pelf.

But thanks to fate I stay alone;

In the country on my own –

Well, relatively on my own –

Surrounded by a trillion pine cones,

Thirteen species bird, one sky,

Occasionally wondering why.

 

Out in the world,

(I used to be out in the world)

I hurled myself at everything in all directions,

All at once.

I’d bounce my skirt,

I’d flirt and pounce.

I’d pounce and bounce

Flounce upon flounce,

Full of desire, breaking hearts,

Aiming higher than my parts

Were meant to. When I roam around

I’m always bound, and lose my way.

But thanks to kismet-karma’s role,

(Forces out of my control)

The ‘country’ force directs the play

Enlivening the peaceful day,

The greenery of scenery

A bar-less cage of freedom.

Here I sing, a star alone;

Engagement: bird, lake, sky, tree, cone.

This from a girl from Brooklyn.

©When I’m Allowed To Roam Around 94.11.19

Circling Round Nature; Pure Nakedness;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

When A Celebrity Dies 1994

      When A Celebrity Dies

A celebrity dies. You feel cheerless and bad –

Tear in your eyes and a lump in your throat.

A jolt in the gut,

And though you’ve never met, you are sad,

Really saddened –

And then you forget.

You stand at the dishes, washing each plate

The radio tells you we’ve lost someone great:

Great career, greater life –

And you brillo the knife.

 

Why is it hard to remember to suffer?

It’s hard to be cheerless as long as you’d wish.

You feel base, superficial, a hypocrite, shallow.

The man had a gift. He was also a dish.

 

He ought to be hallowed –

But five minutes pass and the pause is aborted,

Unless you remind yourself sometime that morning.

Gone is the mourning – already so short.

Your living goes on –

And his ship’s gone to port.

©When A Celebrity Dies 94.10.25

Birth, Death & In Between; Special People Special Occasions;

Arlene Corwin

*on the death of Burt Lancaster

 

 

 

 

 

 

What You Want 1994

     What You Want

What is it you want?

Good food? Nice figure?

Skip the figure – just food?

Big house? Stable mood?

One dollar? One million?

The

job? no job? Just fun?Something to do?

Husband? Wife? Baby? Two?

Time to putter with the flowers?

Hours puttered on the green?

Ecstasy? A vision? Insight?

Hiring someone else to clean?

As high as you aim is as high as you’ll get.

The such-ness of wanting

Depends on the bet you are willing to place,

The debt you are willing to pay

For the backlog of errors still milling about.

 

There once was a peasant who,

Asked what he’d do

If the crown of the czar were to land on his head,

Said, “Man, are you crazy!”

His voice coarse but level:

“Steal ten rubles and run like the devil!”

He thought he was free.  (His level, you see)

All he would do is to steal and flee.

 

The most you’ll possess

Is no more and no less

Than the thing that you want.

© What You Really Want 11.14.1994

Definitely Didactic;

Arlene Corwin

 

What You Really Want 1994

     What You Really Want

What is it you want?

Good food? Nice figure?

Skip the figure – just food?

Big house? Stable mood?

One dollar? One million?

The

job? no job? Just fun?Something to do?

Husband? Wife? Baby? Two?

Time to putter with the flowers?

Hours puttered on the green?

Ecstasy? A vision? Insight?

Hiring someone else to clean?

As high as you aim is as high as you’ll get.

The such-ness of wanting

Depends on the bet you are willing to place,

The debt you are willing to pay

For the backlog of errors still milling about

in the mind.

There once was a peasant who,

Asked what he’d do

If the crown of the czar were to land on his head,

Said, “Man, are you crazy!”

His voice coarse but level:

“Steal ten rubles and run like the devil!”

He thought he was free.

(His level, you see)

All he would do is to steal and flee.

The most you’ll possess

Is no more and no less

Than the thing that you want.

© What You Really Want 11.14.1994

Definitely Didactic;

Arlene Corwin

 

Watch The Mind 1994

             Watch The Mind

Watch the mind, it’s really quirky.

Let it go and watch it work,

For when you see what it creates

(I don’t see how ‘cause that’s a secret:

‘How’ and ‘why’ the hidden states),

You may discover what a neat trick

To stand back, let go and watch.

Letting go, a chance to snatch

At fantasy creative:

Courage by encouragement.

 

Fantasy invents by fancy

Giving order to what’s left.

Creativity can steal from nature’s bank

And it’s not theft,

The dancing arts all mind expanding –

Honey way to jar the door

Of quintessential being –

Just by watching what goes on

And doing what needs to be done.

©Watch The Mind 94.7.8

The Processes: Creative. Thinking, Meditative; To The Child Mystic;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waiting For Something To Happen 1994

     Waiting For Something To Happen

I am a monad, a unit, an entity;

Seed of myself, unrelated to time.

Nomadic monad, a watery sea

Who happens to breed and bleed

By an enzyme collection that passes for me.

Don’t be duped.

Kinetically energized, I can make sounds,

Make the rounds,

Still alone.

A monad, a unit and clone

From an ancestor I’ve never seen,

An ancestor I’ve only heard about, read about, known

About all of the life that I’ve been.

So I sit here waiting for something to happen,

Knowing that I am a monad expecting

The trappings of clappings from heavenly

Creatures unsown:

Waiting for something to happen.

©Waiting For Something To Happen 94.8.13

To The Child Mystic; Nature Of & In Reality;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

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