Inventions Always Supersede Inventions

 

It’s no wonder the planet overflows,

New designs replacing old;

Exponential as the population grows,

It whispers or it bellows,

Throwing out what it considers

Excess this and excess that

Piled up as scrap that once had use.

 

More scrap

Will pile up as filthy, fatty crap

That has no use.

We can’t go back in time.

Framed in other kinds of filth,

Enjoying what is bad for health,

The cloth of new inventions is inevitable.

 

Inventions Always Replace Inventions 3.23.2015

Circling Round Science II; Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No Background Music (revised) 2013

            No Background Music

 

There’ll be no background music then;

Valleys that refuse to sing,

Glens that ring out nothing –

Dales too. 

Only

Quiet.

How to get used to the mute

Unqualified;

No angel choir,

No Gabriel to tootie toot.

There being so much music

In the background –

Does that frighten you?               

 

There’ll be no background music then:

Just silence.  Then

Get used to it;

The drop of nothingness.

The stop, there being

So much tuneful noise?

Silence.  No soft speaking, singing.

Worlds sound-free, mute. quiet. 

How to get used to the silence,

I’m not sure,                 

(There being so much music in the background.)

 

No Background Music 2.11.2012/revised 6.3.2013

Vaguely About Music II; Birth Death & In Between II; Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

 

No Background Music 2012

            No Background Music

 

There’ll be no background music then;

Valleys that refuse to sing,

Glens that ring out nothing –

Dales too. 

Only

Quiet.

How to get used to the mute

Unqualified;

No angel choir,

No Gabriel to tootie toot.

There being so much music

In the background –

Does that frighten you?

 

No Background Music 2.11.2012

Vaguely About Music II; Birth Death & In Between II; Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

A City Without Stress 1997 (found 2012)

A City Without Stress

 

 

I dreamed I was mayor of New York City.

I ran on the ticket “Take Out The Stress –

Take it away, reduce it or lower it –

Vote for my program with “Yes, oh yes, yes!”

My program and slogan was “Clean, Calm & Pretty”.

First came step one, aimed at the mess.

It involved every citizen doing his bit:

Man-spit or dog shit,

Pink, speckled, brown

The only requirement “Look and bend down!

Convinced that with cleanliness

Follows an ordered and temperate manliness;

Eye seeing everything back in its place,

Trash in the trashcan, litter in bin,

Drug taking gone, half the alcohol intake.

Flowers and trees in that space of decline,

Two, I’d instruct all my staff of the joys

That result from the process of cutting out noise.

“Staff, I would plead, here’s the funding you need.

Restore the tranquility, quiet and poise

That has seeped from our town,

Brought the soul of this prospering lovely town down!”

Then I’d reward anyone in a queue

Who was willing to wait for an hour or two;

Wait,  meditate ponder life,

When a bus or a train was that hour overdue.

A city unstressed could send waves

Of the best…

Waves on the crest of a world full of pestilence.

Corny or shallow, truism or dream:

A city unstressed is a powerhouse team.

Egos and sorrows – in spite of them both,

A city unstressed could change many tomorrows.

 

City Without Stress 1.18.1997 (found in an old diary.  I must have been visiting NY at the time) 4.1.2012

Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

Just Do It 2009

          Just Do It

Preface:

My friend asked that I make a Cd,

More than asked, he bullied,

(quality was up to me)

‘Do it!” So, director-less,

Director free,

I did it.

Chapter One:

Midnight here in Sweden,

And tomorrow he’ll be President,

Four-year starting gun to shoot;

A four year shot: it’s not a lot;

A change in month and year;

Fourteen hundred sixty days of world in chaos,

Honor and dishonor.

But by fourteen hundred thirty days,Gritty presidency fleeting –

Fleeing with its certainties.

Paradox is almost nice,

Chapter Two

The dice are ruled by variables.

© Just Do It 1.20.2009

Our Times, Our Culture; Definitely Didactic;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Four Airplane Two Train Crashes Later (a) 2008

Four Airplane Two Train Crashes Later

Four airplane

Two train

Crashes

Later

– All within some days –

One says,

“Oh God,

Dear God,

My God,

An other

Doomsday ways to utter,

Which [ said utterances]

Point to, lead to

Visualizing

Steps ahead

And searchings of

The soul

That’s you.

 

© Four Airplane Two Train Crashes Later 9.14.2008

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Birth, Death & In Between; Our Times, Our Culture;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

War Book 2009

             War Book

Can you think,

Can you fantasize

A war that breeds and feeds itself,

Never ending, vengeful, inventive;

Vengeance, counter…

Counter…

Counter.

You can’t, I’ll bet –

Unless you’ve been there.

© War Book 1.21.2009

War Book; Our Times, Our Culture;

Arlene Corwin

Thank You But…1998

    Thank You, But…

I write this for a friend.

In fact, I’m not that cynical.

He says, “They say they like you, but…

They don’t!

Cause what you’ve got to sell,

If truth could tell,

Is not their cup of tea.

There is no pact,

No contract,

Nothing offered, only pleasantry:

A drink, a wink

And “Thank you, but…

We’re booked until the year two million.”

How he’d like to kill the one

Who lacks the candor to be frank. You

You have no chance – You feel a fool,

A tool of management

And all those men

Who rule the jobs:

The bosses, nobs.

He vows, if he were ever one of them

To never play with words. He’d say,

“You’re just not good enough today,

But practice leads to readiness.

Go home and practice.” It’s less

Cruel than the uncaring, unresponsive, all-unfair

“We thank you, but…”

You never find out why.

©Thank You, But… 98.9.13

Our Times, Our Culture; Vaguely About Music;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

Talent Helps 2004

    Talent Helps

All the virtues

To make envious

A world around:

Persistent,

Strong, kind,

Disciplined.

(There virtues stop)

Popular

And very, very,

Very rich.

The glitch

Is talent –

Does he know

He hasn’t got it?

That a scale of one to ten

Shows that he weighs in low,

And cannot fight it?

Does his staying power count?

Should he be out there, a playing clown?

Should he cower while I grunt?

Or does he steal an era

From the standard that he sets,

Send a generation walking

In the wrong direction?

Or, is he its mirror that selection

Just reflects?

Oh, if only he had talent!

© Talent Helps 04.7.13

Our Times, Our Culture; Vaguely About Music;

Arlene Corwin

Jazz Without Whiskey 1995

 

      Jazz Without Whiskey

Jazz without whiskey, jazz without smoke

Would sound to the masses like some kind of joke.

Jazz without whiskey might bring in more folk

But somehow or other, it’s got itself yoked

To bourbon and rye, and the need to get high.

Players of jazz are usually broke,

(There’s just no respect, and neglect is the problem.)

Playing in pokey, cheap holes-in-the-wall

Where the upright’s un-tuned (if there is one at all),

Prices are high, people are drunk,

And most of the listeners think jazz is bunk;

Strange situation this! Something’s gone wrong.

The wonder is that it continues to change – in the song

And the structure – and never goes under.

But whiskey’s okay if the drinker stays calm –

Receptive and quiet while player plays on.

And if there’s applause at the end it’s a balm.

But smoke! There’s an enemy hell bent on slaying

The public, the player. In short, life aborted

By one cigarette times a hundred,

Times three hundred sixty-five unnumbered darts.

The issue is, where does the yearning

Young jazzer finds outlet, sand for the grit

In his oyster that strives for its pearl,

Bosses who care, who have taste and right wit.

(Not the churlish and burly who’ll screw any girl,

Whose aim is the buck sans the need to take part

In the needs of the player to foster his art.)?

Players rise up and open your bidding!

Break off the shackles! Well, whom am I kidding?

I’m timid, and not an example

To take you the distance to getting your due;

But I have ideals; experience too.

Maybe they’d blend to produce the right end

If there were one loner to start a new trend.

It takes balls.

©

 

Jazz Without Whiskey 95.5.10Vaguely About Music;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

Previous Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: