How Do You Write So Much 2013

How Do You Write So Much?

They always ask, “How do you do it –

Write so much?”

I always answer, “Through some network/spectrum/grid;

A phrase, a book, celestial guides…

Who knows?

One rides that horse of inspiration’s perspiration;

‘Workhorse’ comes to mind.

It’s in the air,

It’s who you are;

The right side of the brain,

The way you train;

It’s logic if you’re logical,

And if you’re not,

It’s that!

If there’s an answer, I don’t know it.

If I knew, I’d throw it back,

A fielder in the lob,

And in that field where everything is valid,

Waiting to be said,

Grist for the mill,

It doesn’t hurt

If you’ve a thing (or two) worthwhile to utter;

Meter, rhythms, meaning, rhyme

Revealed in form –

If you’ve got those, you’re home.

How Do You Write So Much? 6.26.2013

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;

Arlene Corwin

One Gigantic Meditation 2012

One Gigantic Meditation

 

This writing thing

Is one gigantic meditation.

Sitting, standing, listening

To something – poof,

There’s

Thought,

Its chain,

A verse,

A concentrated bouillon

And a poem.

I’m home. The proof

Is in the pudding.

Charming.

 

One Gigantic Meditation 7.29.2012

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

Arlene Corwin

 

Searching For Connections 2012

Searching For Connections

 

If mind were free, ideas would flow.

When mind is open, ideas flower

Because vacuums must be filled

To flavor nothingness.

Nothing loves

A nothingness.

 

Overtones and undertones:

 

Vacuums; chasms, emptiness,

Spaces empty of all matter;

Voids and space and nothingness,

Leading us to craters, cavities and gulfs;

Rifts, splits, crevasses and fissures;

Then that awful concept void:

Bare, blank, dead, unoccupied,

Empty, null, invalid, useless,

Vacant, vain and worthless.

Yet,

 

There’s void as free;

Freedom to move this way, that –

Which brings back creativity,

The dear propensity of nature

To abhor a vacuum

Out of which the all is born.

 

Searching For Connections 7.13.2012

Circling Round Reality; Nature Of & In Reality;

Arlene Corwin

Rhapsodizing Confusion 2012

Rhapsodizing Confusion

 

He sits there rhapsodizing,

Music going

On and on,

Theme scarcely clear.

What he needs in an arrangement,

Inner order,

Something to hang on to,

An internal girder, welder, builder,

Candor, some reminder to bind

A to b to c to d and finally to z:

An end and means to send it,

End it.

 

Is it rhapsody, improvisation?

His seems like bewilderment and misperception

Fueled by laidback lack of fire

Fused by movement going nowhere.

He thinks he was Socrates,

Calls it jazz.

We drown in his repose.

I think if I were in his clothes

I’d agonize, I’d make some noise.

No, he keeps on and on,

Just playing, rhapsodizing

In confusion.

 

Rhapsodizing Confusion 8.14.2012

Vaguely About Music II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

Searching For Connections 2012

Searching For Connections

 

If mind were free, ideas would flow.

When mind is open, ideas flower

Because vacuums must be filled

To flavor nothingness.

Nothing loves

A nothingness.

 

Overtones and undertones:

 

Vacuums; chasms, emptiness,

Spaces empty of all matter;

Voids and space and nothingness,

Leading us to craters, cavities and gulfs;

Rifts, splits, crevasses and fissures;

Then that awful concept void:

Bare, blank, dead, unoccupied,

Empty, null, invalid, useless,

Vacant, vain and worthless.

Yet,

 

There’s void as free;

Freedom to move this way, that –

Which brings back creativity,

The dear propensity of nature

To abhor a vacuum

Out of which the all is born.

 

Searching For Connections 6.16.2012

Circling Round Reality; Nature Of & In Reality;

Arlene Corwin

Write About The Thing You Know 2009

              Write About The Thing You Know

“Write about the thing you know.”

I know God.

My actions center ‘round, respond to

Consonance I see but do

not always fathom;

Helpless choicelessness,

Despite the choices made.

Choiceless helplessness;

Processed, techni-hued, dependent, mystic.

I would almost hope that no one

Reads this

Just a bit preposterous,

Embarrassing, irrational and lame –

poem.

© Write About The Thing You Know 9.8.2009

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; God Book; Revelations Big & Small;Pure Nakedness; The Processes:Creative,Thinking, Meditative; Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

Writing On Scraps 2009

             Writing On Scraps

When you’re disorganized – as I am –

Getting up, attending to your bath,

(Toilette, I think they used to say),

Then coffee, ‘cause one has to start the day

With something of a vim and vigor,

Order, rigor; washing dishes,

Laundering in dribs and drabs,

Yoga-ing to stay the flabs,

Distinguishing between the wishes

and the exigencies,

Blah, blah, blah… etceteras

Not organized enough to carry pen and paper

As some writers do, you have to grab the nearest scrap –

Large, small, torn, folded, printed, blank,

It doesn’t matter; and you’ve got to run around

In search of pens you’ve scattered

Everywhere, for if you let go for a second

And, God help you, for a minute,

Or the phone rings, as it’s just now done,

It goes – the thought, the epithet: the lot.

You’ve either got to wait in hope,

Or grope your way back home to poem,

You quite the dope. In time

You map the scraps and see?

You’ve got a batch, a bunch –

A munchy pot of poetry.

© Writing On Scraps 8.31.2009

The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative; Arlene Corwin

 

Previous Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: