You Can’t Fool Your Friends 1997

                You Can’t Fool Your Friends

You can’t fool your friends.

You write a poem.

You write a ‘we’ instead of ‘I’.

It smacks of insincerity

Your friends are sharp and sensitive;

They know a compromise

On palette or in word:

The visual, the heard;

Straightforwardness and honesty,

Too little or too much. –

They’ll give you all the feedback

That’s required to re-touch.

But if, in your travail and sweat

You’ve made your peace with what you met

During conception and inception,

Working-through

To a conclusion that convinces you,Then stick to it now matter what –

And thankful for the friends you’ve got,

To thine own self be true.

Allowed to bash at faulty views,

And at your pace

(Which can take years, for after all,

It’s not a race).

You cannot fool your friends, but still,

They’re not inside your soul

Seeing the whole,

As you perceive it.

They have their ways to receive it –

And that’s lovely.

But an artist’s life’s reflective, lonely.

Seen from that perspective,

Friends are not the folk you pool

Your art’s results with, but a tool

For transformation,

Further change, modification.

Cruel they may be,

Fuel they are

Gruel for future art.

And jewel –

For the friend you cannot fool

And ought not to resist –

The catalyst –

Is your most loyal propagandist

And reminder.

©You Can’t Fool Your Friends 97.10.14Special People, Special Occasions; I Is Always You Is We; Love Relationships;
The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative; Definitely Didactic;  Arlene Corwin

 

 
 

 

Will You Come Home To Me (lyric) 1997

      Will You Come Home To Me (lyric)

Waiting for the spring,

Waiting for the fall,

Waiting for the winter

Hoping anytime at all

That you’ll come home perchance.

Ordinary girl, ordinary man,

Ordinary problems.

Ordinary’s harder than

The first days of romance.

Two alone is hard to hold.

Two must work to make one life unfold.

The simple fact is”

You have gone away.

Ia am left to stay,

Leaving me to ponder.

Will you ever wander home?

Will you come back to me?

Will you ever wander back

Will you come home to me?

© Will You Come Home To Me 5.1.1997

*music Dick Shreve

Lyrics; Love Relationships;

Arlene Corwin

 

Why I Write 1997

      Why I Write 

I write because I like to write,

I need to write,

I want to write because I like

And need

To write.

There is a seed

Inside demanding

To be watered, and I’ve no

Idea what flow’r it is that’s growing,

Even what it is I’m sowing.

I just write

Because it feels right

To write.

© 

 

 

Why I Write 97.10.5

When Guest Is Gone 1997

 

      When Guest Is Gone

When guest is gone

And you’ve been a good hostess,

And been, as they say,

The host with the ‘mostess’;

Done all you can for the sake of

The fun and the best for the guest,

Cooking and chatting and eating with zest,

Osmosing the beauty connected with duty;

Voiced every boast that can come from a host

With good will and good cheer

And your very best beer,

In the strain to provide entertainment;

Guest gone and all’s been done;

You’re glad to go back, change the clocks;

A tad sad –it’s natural

A paradox.

When guest is here, the atmosphere,

Is prejudicial to deep peace:

Superficial.

The wish to fill the bill kills stillness.

Even conversations true

Must tire the guest and tire you.

You’ve done your best;

And he’s gone home again to rest,

Happy to return.

And even though he’s learned and earned

On this ten day vacation week –

Skin now brown where it was bleak,

A new found language, so to speak –

He’s been away from the old clique,

And glad to travel back to Hackney

Where the journey first excited:

Coming back’s the thing,

The yearning to be on the wing

Replaced by ‘Happy to be home!’

When week has gone,

Both guest and host hone normalcy:

Remembering the sun, the rain,

Mosquito pain, the false champagne,

The Nordic sun that didn’t wane,

The foal’s white mane

Looking to a next again.

These days refrain a memory.

©

 

When Guest Is Gone (Rod) 97.8.13I Is Always You Is We; Special People, Special Occasions; Swedish Book;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We’ve Cancelled The Papers 1997

 

      We’ve Cancelled The Papers

We’ve cancelled the papers.

My goodness, I’m glad.

I find them demanding, confusing, depressing.

They take so much time from the day that one’s had.

I like all the sales that one can exploit:

The discounted coupons that scream “Clip me out!”

But then I spend more than I ought

Cause I’m, caught;

The Post and the News and the Times all expressing

Interpreted fact

Without tact, exactitude,

Flaming the attitude,

Fixing our views.

It’s all so distressing.

And that’s why I’m glad

That we’ve cancelled the papers –

Their principle’s bad.

But then again I watch TV.

Whatever will become of me –

And him? As long as we share house and room,

It’s possible we – common pair –

Will share a second-rate, commonplace doom.

Or, will we one day, pull the plug,

And flog it all:

New sweep, new broom,

New bloom,

Finished consumer:

A new human being.

©

 

We’ve Cancelled The Papers 97.4.13Our Times, Our Culture;

Arlene Corwin

 

We Buy To Give Away 1997

 

       We Buy To Give Away

We buy to give away –

To use awhile and give away.

It has to be so, since we die.

Then

where go all the things we buy?Someone

gets. We’re forced to share.What we buy cannot come to where

We’re going. Why not jump the gun,

Be seen as Mister Niceguy? –

Really be one?

Who knows if the gived –

Hereafter spoken of as gift –

Affects the state of death;

Conditions after the last breath?

In any case, it’s practical to simplify,

Dispersing goods before you die.

Remember what it is I’ve said:

Before – not after – you are dead.

©

 

We Buy To Give Away 97.10.21Defiant Doggerel; Birth, Death & In Between; Definitely Didactic;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

Waiting For Spring#1 1997

             Waiting For Spring #1

Will spring never come?

It’s April and it’s snowing.

Extraordinary that!

The snow is thick and growing,

And my husband says, “It’s only rain.

A little white – but going.

He’s just changed to summer tires.

Wind is blowing.

Shame, if on his way to work

His auto needed towing.

These are funny times, I think,

With nothing to rely on.

Weather-wise, they really stink.

The planet’s gone awry, on

Top of which the baddies

Are increasing all the time,

Diverting scientific steam

To search for groups to spy on.

Dear, oh dear, while lying here

The snow continues piling:

Up and up and up and up

While I continue smiling.

Snow has charm. One could

Describe it as beguiling,

That despite the forecast.

It’s an occupation in itself,

This waiting for the buds.

Proof will be a game of golf

And features about floods;

Flowers on the forest floor,

Fledglings for the cat;

Preferences for milky fare

And victual without fat,

And everything

That comes with spring –

I’m waiting for all that.

Still, it’s April twenty-third.

Rising snow is right outside.

The wood stove is prop-full of birch,

The golf clubs stand untried.

I had hot porridge as a snack.

I needed something warm.

Spring, why are you holding back

Your green and floral charm?

©

 

Waiting For Spring #1 97.4.23Circling Round Nature; Our Times, Our Culture; Small Stories Book; Swedish Book;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waiting For Spring 1997

      Waiting For Spring

Will spring never come? It’s April and it’s snowing.

Snow is thick and growing, and my husband says,

“It’s only rain; a little white – but going.”

He’s just changed to summer tires. Wind is blowing.

Shame, if on his way to work his auto needed towing.

These are funny times, I think, with nothing to rely on.

Weather-wise, they really stink. The planet’s gone awry, on

Top of which the baddies are diverting steam

To search for groups to spy on.

Dear oh dear, while lying here

The snow continues piling:

Up and up and up. One could

Describe it as beguiling –

That despite the forecast.

It’s an occupation in itself, this waiting for the buds.

Proof will be: a game of golf and features about floods,

Flowers on the forest floor, fledglings for the cat,

Preferences for milky fare and victuals without fat;

Everything that comes with spring –

I’m waiting for all that.

Still, it’s April twenty-third; rising snow is right outside.

The wood stove’s full of birch and the golf clubs stand untried;

I had porridge as a snack. I needed something warm.

Spring, why are you holding back your lime-y green and floral charm?

©Waiting For Spring 97.4.23

Circling Round Nature; Our Times, Our Culture; Small Stories Book; Swedish Book;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

Using Time Before It Uses You 1997

 

      Using Time Before It Uses You

Climbing right into the pea

When you are shelling it;

Right into the story

When you’re telling it;

Further yet, to feel the threat

To tree when someone’s felling it:

Using time before it uses you.

 

©Using Time Before It Uses You 97.8.25

Time; A Sense Of The Ridiculous;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tit For Tat 1997

 

       Tit For Tat

What does excessive sugar/fat

Do to the body’s thermostat?

I should guess it’s always that

The law of nature’s tit for tat:

Much too much brings on too much

Or much too little; and the crutch

Of reaching eighty-five and such

Is no excuse (as people say).

The body wasn’t made that way –

It certainly ain’t glad that way.

You’ve got to be quite mad to say

That just because you’re eighty-five

And still alive,

That you’re not gonna have to pay

For your excesses –

What my guess is.

©

 

Tit For Tat 97.1.3A Sense Of The Ridiculous; I Is Always You Is We;

Definitely Didactic; Nature Of & In Reality;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

Previous Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: