Only Paper (meant to comfort) 2013

Only Paper.

(meant to comfort)

 

[It’s] only paper

That can be exchanged –

Exchanged for things;

 

[They’re] only things:

Contraptions, gadgets,

Items, objects, mechanisms,

Fashions, fascinations,

Passions,

Manias, fixations.

 

After food, a roof,

A layer to protect the body:

Poof!

Illusion.

Gone.

 

Only Paper 3.11.2013

A Sense of The Ridiculous; Circling Round Reality; Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

A Puff Of Air 2012

A Puff Of Air

 

I’ve analyzed accomplishment,

I’ve me-oh-my’d achievement;

I’ve listed fame and reputation,

How it feels and what it gives,

(how it felt and what it gave);

The money gain, and what it brought,

The flatter-satis-

Faction

That was sought

And won

And at the same time, none

of these.

Mostly, sometimes, always –

Never;

Every word a concept-phrase, a phase

And in the end, a puff of air;

An I-don’t really-care-it doesn’t-matter, patter

Glib, an empty fib, semantic gibberish,

Emptied, slowed,

With no place on this earth to go.

It isn’t pleasant.

Left inside – the present:

Not one bit of optimism,

[maybe just] a hint of hope;

All the rest a “Nope,

‘this is a puff of air” its definition.

Revelation

Isn’t always fair

(With no one really to complain to.)

 

A Puff Of Air 3.26.2012

Revelations Big & Small; Circling Round Reality;

Arlene Corwin

 

First Poem Of All 1959

         First Poem Of All

Something’s happening inside;

I think I’ve just died.

I’m going home to see.

Feeling is unreasoned,

Rather like unseasoned squash,

Or a ghastly recipe:

To three cups salt add four grams goulash.

Disinterested, uncontrolled field of flounces

Sloshes like a slattern in the rain;

Inane pattern

Of windrowed plain.

The definition of cumulus cloud:

Abraham Lincoln, looking so proud

Becomes a dog. Preposterous!

So I’ve died without a fuss,

For life plus I equals feeling, mood,

And all is verisimilitude.

©First Poem Of All 59.10

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; To The Child Mystic;

Arlene Corwin

Looking For Permanence 2008

        Looking For Permanence

The thing is this: It’s always over.

As I read the guide

To films gone by I slip, I slide

Into a pondering: a star adored

Who won award;

Film from ninety-, sixty-, fifty-two

Which looks at you, but which

In real time, is through

Along with camera, set and crew.

And I am stuck in pity,

In the middle

Of the loss of nothing staying.

You can’t pin it down.

No pheromone this past-phenomenon.

You cannot say, “If only…”

Instinct kicks us in the shins

Reminding us of transience,

Yet of permanence.

We also long for permanence,

Glued, as we are, to past,

To film and star that passed

A long, long time ago.

© Looking For Permanence 5.14.2008

Circling Round Reality;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

I See Through Everything 1996

 

     I See Through Everything

I see through everything

And do not like it,

The whole thing illusion:

All the Oscars and awards,

All the efforts leading towards

A thing – an object, fame,

Art, money thing:

Depraved,

And far from feeling saved I feel

Deceived.

My cravings still appear,

But as of now, I’m being steeled

By something from within. Oh dear,

I see through everything

And I don’t like it.

Not a bit.

New stage of age?

©

I See Through Everything 96.3.26Our Times, Our Culture;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

Comeback 2008

        Comeback

Perhaps I should be grateful

That I never was recipient

Of great applause, years of adorers,

Years of being stunning,

Broadway’s honey (or the like).

Grateful that

I never had to bow out,

That I never got

To miss the kudos

(Never knowing what life was without them

‘Cause I never got them.)

Never got to play Las Vegas.

Grateful that

There never came a time of missing,

Longing for the non-existent encore;

Cheering I no longer hear.

Hair gone gray,

Kilos heading the wrong way,

You are asked to make a comeback,

(Or you’ve asked to make a comeback)

For life’s boring, and no hobby takes the place

Of people sitting in their places.

So you sweat and strain

To get those kilos off again,

To get back those routines

Where you could move (like in your teens),

With flexibility, the voice

Retaining every nuance.

We’ve seen Frank and Cher

Come back again…and then again…

We follow each rendition,

Each gradation, limitation and we cheer

Until we find our cheers have hesitation.

I am grateful that I never

Had the clamoring for autographs and tresses,

Tearing dresses, theirs and mine.

Never had the glamour and the clamor of the masses –

And the need to make a comeback,

Coming back to public whimsical and smelling wine,

Hard to define.

And still I grow.

© Comeback 5.28.2008

Birth, Death & In Between; Time; Vaguely About Music;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

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