Arlene Corwin Poetry

     Convincing Myself

Trying to regain the innocence,

Tired of peer caused fears,

The jargonized ideas.

I want to be

A limited, courageous me

Dependent only on the muse;

Reviews, the news

The chasing, bruising crews a gnat.

I’ve got the right to pick and choose

*.

Oh God, did I say that?

Okay, I can’t escape the past,

The couplet form, the easy rhyme,

The melody in four/four time,

The simple cadence, key of C;

Ham and eggs or corned beef hash,

If standing on my legs or feet

Means using just the simplest beat,

Not taking jobs just for the cash,

Splashing song/poems cross- the-sky,

Not letting a timidity

Dispose and keep me un-exposed,

But, like my niece of three

Who shouts her piece,

Stands back and waits for the applause –

No wisdom’s it, just giggly grit –

Who doesn’t criticize herself or pause,

But gives the world the critic’s role

Singing artless, baby troll.

No sweat, no threat, no frets. Not yet.

I’m trying to regain the youth

That had no pre-concepted truth.

My mind’s eye sees a rainbow sky;

The swing, the arch,

Colors constant – climbing, sliding.

At each end a cache of gold:

All that me, when young, when old:

Soul pastel;

In between the stages all:

Rise, peak, fall primordial.

What’s there to be convinced of?

©

Convincing Myself 97.4.30I Is Always You Is We; Vaguely About Music;

Arlene Corwin

*unconsciously borrowed from Johnny Mercer’s

“I’ve Got A Right To Sing The Blues”