Complaint From An Ageing Computer-Illiterate Lady 2008

         Complaint From An Ageing Computer-Illiterate Lady
I do the simplest things.
I ‘m stuck.
I seem to have lost intellect.
My grandchild [not the least moonstruck]
Sails in and out of little icons she calls forth
With whispered touch.
I’ve  not one crutch,
Dare not expect much.
Bared and crouched for semaphores
That only come from self. Ouch,
I should branch out,
Taking risks; latch on to newer things.
It is a kind of secret sloth,
Concealed from all who look
And see a working being.
Only I know what they are not seeing:
Pulls that lie behind this eight ball.
Ought not rail, my head not throb at failure,
But take on my newest tutor.
I must turn on my computer:
©Complaint From An Ageing Computer-Illiterate Lady 02.1.18/01.12.6./rev7.12.2008
A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Circling Round Woman; Circling Round Computers;
Arlene Corwin

Two Lines 2002 2007

            Two Lines

Seeing through the smoke of sorrow

Right down to the joke of sorrow

That’s the trick!

©Two Lines 07.10.22 (from 02.8.15)

Circling Round Reality;

Arlene Corwin

The Fear Is Gone 2002 2007

     The Fear Is Gone

The fear is gone.  A song is there;

In place a song-like atmosphere.

Gone, longing for…in four/four time,

All of the time –

Not letting in

The villain.

In the fingered melodies,

In leading tones and harmonies,

In asking for the things I want

And wanting what turns up.


All along the song was fear.


Now sweet,

What’s left is to complete…

Close up the circle,

Fix the faults,

End the story

For the glimpse of glory

So far hidden.

©The Fear Is Gone 07.10.25 (revised from 02.10.1)

Lyrics; Vaguely About Music;

Arlene Corwin


A la Jane Austin 2005





À La Jane AustinI understand the modern man.

I understand


à la Jane Austin.I know his concentration

Needs more snippets than long episodes,

His mental station gone awry.

I know the reason why, and I

Take heed,

Belonging to this restless breed.

I have a sense of when to stop.

Not stooping to the popular,

Since instincts tell me ‘when’,

And by the time the pen

Has filled A4,

I’d better not have one word more;

The mind-throat must be stilled.

The one-page reader won’t turn over.

Paradoxically, he’s buying longer books than ever.

The novella’s gone to hell, as well as

Rhyme and metered time.

Did I say that I understood it,

This phenomenon modern?

I’m part of it. I know that much.

I am in touch with modern mind,

The search to find a higher truth,

Ponce de Leon’s search for youth,

The need for speed as well as silence.

I am there to understand the head and tail,

The ego frail, its longing for a holy grail.

I understand the hand that writes

To finish when A4 runs out,

A discipline from doubt or drought

That comes from having modern man’s eternal heart.

©À la Jane Austin 02.8/04.3.16/05.11.4/2006

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative; Our Times, Our Culture;

Arlene Corwin





People Get Tatoos 2002 2004

     People Get Tattoos

People get tattoos because

They think that there’s no change,

Because they’re vain, in love.

They think they choose

Because they’ve no idea

The rain in Spain lies mainly in the plain

And muscle turns,

And what was breast or chest,

Was firm and formed,

Deforms, de-firms

With ‘budding bicep rose’ becoming

Wrinkled, wilted posy -of-the-elbows.

I suppose it’s all to do with time

And how we throw away

Our energies, with time outgrowing

Side- and peepshow

Worshipped once with gusto.

Oh, tattoo, you are a symbol

Of myopia and youth,

Cockeyed view of truth

That lets us down.

Still, there always will be those

Who will demand tattoos,

Refusing all discussion until gusto is disgust.

There’s nothing one can say or do

Except reiterate this blemished tune

To anyone who’ll listen:

Be just witness and abstain.


©People Get Tattoos 04.1.18/02.7.20

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Definitely Didactic; Time;

Arlene Corwin





Manipulating Time 2002


Manipulating Time

Into [time]

[Time] in two

In tune [with time]

Time deep in self –

Deep in and out of nowhere

That prolongs,


Manipulating for more room

Within its frame. How nice!

An inexpensive price to pay

For elongating night and day:

Your life; more life to claim;

More time to soar;

More life that’s yours.


anipulating Time 02.5.23Time; Vaguely About Music;

Arlene Corwin




Cantata for Solo Violin 2007

Cantata For Solo Violin By Bach

Cantata for solo violin
Stands on its own.
No orchestra, it’s brilliant.
Comes a bigger group:
Brass band or chamber
Making what?
More of cantat’?
Grab confidence, (latent or not)
Conquistador of yours.
The minimum can stand-alone.

©Cantata For Solo Violin By Bach 07.5.1
The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative; Vaguely About Music; Definitely Didactic;
Arlene Corwin

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