The Essential It

More refined and more defined:
The essential ‘It’ still growing.
One can’t know this
Unless —
One looks back with two ‘eyes’ anew
When suddenly, no instantly
What was approved
Now begs to be removed
Because one’s changed and different.
Hard to put one’s finger on, but altered.
So revision and reshaping is in order.

One refines,
Remakes mistakes
Although the stakes are low
For you’ve no place to go, your work also.
You write well but you never sell.

The new is fun.
For instance, one’s
Mistakenly typed in placebo.
One’s been given someplace new to go,
Refined and new defined the artist.

The Essential It 4.23.2020 The Processes; Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Something Always Tips The Scales

It is, will always be:
Something tips the scales.  You die.
We read, we see that most who pass away, I.e.
The older in society
From virus in modernity, contemporary
(virus C so anti-trendy);
Those with underlying illnesses, sepsis, so on,
Ills potential, known, un-shown.

Life’s end always has a cause,
The time between your birth and death but pause;
It’s no surprise: sunrise to -set,
Scarce discussed but always met.

Death comes at will;
Lying still or sitting, walking,
Making fervent love or talking,
Even taking food and such,
The unavoidable the touch of fate.

Corona’s crown, not crown but ‘downer’
(see corona’s origin: medieval Latin word for crown)

Starvation, war, lopsided Nature,
Technology and fire, water…
And the vices - greed and anger,
Traits unconquered…
Slowly building wind in sails
To some finality
That tips the scales.
Something Always Tips The Scales 3.10.2020 Our Times, Our Culture; Nature Of & In Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin

The Things We Take For Granted

The tastes and that we taste,
The smell and that we smell.
The sight and sights themselves;
The fact of silence, how it feels.
And touch?
Is velvet like our bristly toothbrush?
How asleep we are
Though eyes are open.
Who is it, that real person
Inside you?
And who is you?

The Things We Take for Granted 11.15.2020 A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Arlene Nover Corwin

How The Brain Works

It loves detail, first of all.
Generalities do not excite it.
Non-specifics, loose and vague
Give no delight,
Carry no weight,
It wants the truth.

If body’s trained, or has within it energy,
The tendency to move with speed,
The lovely brain transforms each need,
Breaks down each fact as act
To fit into its aim,
Which movement may or may not have a name;
Duty, task, procedure, chore
Undertaking taken for no more than fun.

Endearing brain loves to explore,
Take on itself the new untried.
It has a visionary side inside
That keeps it fresh and beautiful:
A purposeful conception, not by half,
A dutiful creation in itself.

Talents, gifts, its origin
Non-convention its beginnings.
Gem potential when you get it,
Plastic and experimental if you let it.
It holds to the good lifelong,
Yet treated wrongly values wrong.
Born to serve each one on earth
It is the gain of endless worth.

Amused, confused oh, reader dear?
Come near to this cerebral matter,
Leave the life of nattering,
Chit-chattering.
Live to see what really matters.
Train.
It’s all there in the brain.

Addendum:
There are things I did not cover,
Could not cover: will; willpower.
Brain likes detail.
Unconcerned by big and small,
What is and is not trivial,
Import (to it) all the same:
Detached neutrality its other name.

How The Brain Works 5.30.2020 Definitely Didactic II; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Nature Of & In Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin

You’re All You’ve Got

You’re all you’ve got.
You’ve not ’got’ anyone
Or anything,
The ring of ‘ones’ and ‘things’
A passing, fleeting,
In that meaning,
An illusion.

The truth of this when realised,
The ‘borrow-ness’ is seized,
Reduces sorrow.

Things disappear.
Relations too,
Those closest to you die
And you, you cry
At loss.
The cost of disappearance broken-heartedness.

But when you understand deep in your heart
That you’re a part and they’re a part,
Like slices of an apple ****;
That they’re not yours and you’re not theirs,
Just pieces of the larger unit,

You’re the ‘real’ of all you are,
The other things the satellites around your star
Of which you must take care while there.
Thought provoking, isn’t it,
That ‘you’ is all you’ve really got!

You’re All You’ve Got 8.4.2020 Circling Round Reality; Circling Round Experience; Pure Nakedness II; Nature Of & InReality; Arlene Nover Corwin

Seeing Globally

I Am Here…Now⏰⏳

Influence

You have much more an influence than
You have an idea you have.
So much weight and leverage on thing and man;
So much impact by simply being.
So beware,
Become aware
That you control and are
A role,
An inspiration and example
On behaviour.

You, your goodness and your faults
Shape norms and shapes,
For mankind apes -
And that’s a fact.

So, do remember that it’s you, through choices
Who make trends,
Starts, ends…your voices
Ringing loud without a sound.
For what comes round one can’t predict,
Outcomes more complex than that.

Do not forget
You have an impact.
Don’t ignore your inner store
Of power
Which goes out by minute
And by hour.

Be an ever growing you.
You sow the seeds by what you do.
And what you do is what you think,
So sink your life in wisdom-ed virtue.

Influence 1.28.2020 Pure Nakedness II;  Definitely Didactic; Arlene Nover Corwin

This was written in two minutes, two minutes ago, the bolt of lightening hitting as I was doing hand laundry.

       The Princess & The Pea 2020

Since my operation, I mean amputation
I’ve become the princess & the pea:
A whole set of new formed, framed sensitivity,
Plus a set pf parts I cannot feel.
Forever reeling with the adaptation,
Realising all life is but adaptation -
And perhaps adoption of the new.

Bare feet and I feel every crumb.
Two knuckles barely touched
And I am numb,
No more the nimble fingered
I was used to from
The decades prior.

Poor princess!  Now I know
Why she goes down in history,
Fairy tale no airy tale: reality.

Time will pass
And more will happen.
Whether it will be ‘Alas’
And I the captive,
Or a brand new happiness
I cannot prophecy.
But by and by
The pea may liquify
And dry, and I,
A princess only.

The Princess & The Pea 2020 4.30.2020 Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

The River Of Poetry

The giver of poetry
Shows the river of life.
The poet - a self
Who expresses the lot,
Who has got to address motley thought,
Oughts and will,
Who can never sit still
Until writing is done
For a verse routed out
From the roots of inquiry,
Theory,
Doubt and much more to impart
In a river of eloquent art.

The River Of Poetry 8.31.2020 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

Letting Go

First of June,
Which he’ll recall many a moon.
He, jazz pianist, pensive, listener,
Chanced to hear a fellow player.
As can happen
A conveyer, lightening-like
Strikes home and he’s a freer man!
The improvisor
Comes out wiser.
Something in the sound’s approach,
It simplified but still cohesive,
Has adhered, become adhesive
And a coach.

“Listen here!”, and sitting down,
The chord an old but fresher sound;
Change but subtle
There is no need for a rebuttal.
He’s been transformed. It, simply so,
By listening to the radio!.

Was it the tune or was it he
On the brink of some new potency?
Synchronicity?
Serendipity?
Gift from heaven, as they say?
Anyway, he’s found the sound by letting go.
With years ahead to work through to…we never know.

Yes, never know exactly how
The whole will play out.

Letting Go 6.1.2020 Vaguely About Music; Arlene Nover Corwin

Helping Attitudes With Platitudes

You do not have to be
Anyone but who you are.
Refining character
To help define your aura
Is the only thing you need acquire.

To experiment,
Pretend you are a foreigner,
A highborn neighbour
Or a stranger.

Be yourself and you will help the globe
As well as every microbe;
Setting off the chain reaction
Near and far
Encapsulating who you are.

Helping Attitudes With Platitudes 7.17.2020 A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

Each Trick On Mac

I wish I knew each trick on Mac
To send and track;
Each new technique
A winning streak in cyber-speak.

Trying hard to not be piqued
By an ineptitude
That lies within the DNA
(or am I justifying being lazy).
Anyway, I’m way behind in keeping up.
In sending through my things to do,
Like all the books I’ve left to publish,
Then when published, to divulge.  

Indulge me:
Am I doomed to be unknown/ anon
Until the kids of kids of kids have grown?
Was it some centuries before Johan Sebastian Bach prevailed?
What’s-his long-forgotten name unveiled?
Lost for ages Raphael (or some same fellow)…
You know what I mean.
And all because I never worked
To learn this darned Machine!

Each Trick On Mac 6.14.2020 To The Child Mystic II; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

* You’ll never believe it, but this sieve of a brain who tried for hours to recall ‘what’s-his-name’, abandoning it entirely, suddenly came up with, first, “Centuries of Meditations” then minutes later Traherne, then minutes more Thomas.  My God, this has never happened before!  That some figure I’d not referred to, given a thought to or even read since university days, should 65 years later suddenly explode with it.   I’m in shock!  
I have some re-writing to do, for sure.  If not here, elsewhere. But first I ought to do   little reading.

A twin to the moment of silliness.

One’s Always Aiming At & For Good Art

One’s always aiming at and for good art,
Emotion just a minor part.
One amuses using humor;
One weeps from milk that’s spilt;
If one’s longing tops the theme,
All the same, one wants good art:
Intelligence, truth from the start,
Not smitten by cliches,
For if they must be written
Make sure they’re on purpose, not from weakness.
(Neither smart-*** smart nor cynical
But heart dug in the spiritual)
Readers are not seekers, not in quest…
Nonetheless,
The verb, conjunction, placement careful,
You desire your work, its poetry
The -ality which underlies expression,
Reaching with finesse the chosen few intent on you,
To generate a luminescence,
(Not to speak of essence.)

One’s Always Aiming At & For Good Art 12.2.2020 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin

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What Is Bliss?

I have known happiness;
But bliss? I’ve not known,
Often wondering how, what this bliss kiss is.  
Pondering, oft meditating with success
I’ve met the qualities of inner peace,
Knowledge, love and happiness.
But bliss? Supposedly,
The highest state of joy and glory:
Blessedness benign, divine,
Coming from the source of sources
(choose your name.)
Force of forces having in its essence
Attributes that shower power
Hidden from, mysterious
To each of us.

Postulated, taking shape and form
As all on earth and every faith.
It is a mystery: its signs and causes
Working from its pre-formed laws.
Nonetheless,
It doesn’t stop one wondering thus:
What in heaven’s name is bliss?
And how to get it.
Some suggestion? Be my guest!

What Is Bliss? 12.27.2020 God Book II; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; To The Child Mystic II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Sitting bored in front of the TV, open computer on the coffee table in front of me, this came out.   A poetic babble perhaps.        

     Brain Change

It happens all day long.
Inside the head, its gorgeous throng of targets sits
The brain; synaptic nerve cells.
Tiny gaps across which impulse tells
One or another thrilling and exhilarating news
                                                                    to use,
Communicating and collecting,
Stimulating and connecting,
Electrical or chemical;
Pre-, post-, now,  past,
It hosts the most.
With a tiny blast of current,
It emits, transmits life long,
From head to body-solid.

(With its) mind-boggling effects,
The synapse’ clean neuron-ic jets
Affect each thing we think and know,
How and what we know and do.
How the brain arranges you!

Place targeted,
Remembered never to forget,
Some venue in that gorgeous head,
Its gorgeous throng of secrets
Sits a brain of infinite and wondrous range,
Perpetually changing.

Brain Change 1.23.2020 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative; Arlene Nover Corwin

Everything You Do

Everything accomplished needed repetition.
Repetition means rehearsal;
No reversal till you get it perfect.
Practice and continuation
Flexibly reflected, flaws corrected;
All dissected till you’ve got it right.

Playing, praying, cooking  training,
You’ve a will and brain
To shape it all from large to small,
From simple to precision’s detail.

Everything needs doing over
To deliver what it’s meant to be.
Nothing’s fault-free, all agree.
But all activity has aim
Combined with spontaneity.

Repetition is an art,
Discipline a healthy part;
Continuance the dart and cart
Which thrown and borne
Brings start to what we’ve learnt
To call accomplishment.

Everything You Do 10.29.2020 Definitely Didactic II; Circling Round Experience; I Is Always You Is We; Arlene Nover Corwin

A Nose In My Ear, Or Ageing Love Song

Watching morning TV,
Eating late – toast, egg and coffee,
He leans in and nuzzles me.
(A funny word: to nose-el,
And a funny feel.)
Have you ever had a nose in ear?
You can no longer hear –
Not for that second, it somewhat vexatious,
Nonetheless, a candy and ridiculous,
And  yes, oh, yes, a sugared kiss.
It was and is.
A Nose In My Ear 1.13.2013/revamped 6.3.2020
A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Circling Round Eros II; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

Tired of..

Housewives tire repeatedly
Of empty answers,
Inattention, the cliché
She must live with day to day.

Oft, one has a sneaky feeling
That a partnership stops growing
When the moments turn to echoing.
Repetitious, detrimental,
Present and habitual,
Diluting conversation’s scope:
Buddy stripped to muddy-ship.

What to do to stave off ruin?
Patience? Duty?  Contribution?
Temperament or character
Of either and/or partner
With the union a rehearsal
Without thought of a reversal?

Can one remedy a situation
Without simulating stimulation?
How,
       when there is love, a vow?

Self-understanding standing under self?

Perhaps we’re counsellors to each other.
Therapists with kindness very like a brother.
Therapists who do not smother,
But who warmly listen,
A considerate, receptive cushion.
“Tired of’s…” a mean exclusion.
Certainly the wrong conclusion.

Tired Of 9.14.2020 Circling Round Experience; Love Relationships II; Arlene Nover Corwin

A twin to the moment of silliness.

One’s Always Aiming At & For Good Art

One’s always aiming at and for good art,
Emotion just a minor part.
One amuses using humor;
One weeps from milk that’s spilt;
If one’s longing tops the theme,
All the same, one wants good art:
Intelligence, truth from the start,
Not smitten by cliches,
For if they must be written
Make sure they’re on purpose, not from weakness.
(Neither smart-*** smart nor cynical
But heart dug in the spiritual)
Readers are not seekers, not in quest…
Nonetheless,
The verb, conjunction, placement careful,
You desire your work, its poetry
The -ality which underlies expression,
Reaching with finesse the chosen few intent on you,
To generate a luminescence,
(Not to speak of essence.)

One’s Always Aiming At & For Good Art 12.2.2020 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin

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This could have been written with different pronouns (you, one, we etc.) but I have no hesitation in using the confessional I, since I’m pretty sure that I is you is we all.


          The Older I Become #3

The older I become
The more I need to meditate,
The date with death come into sight.
Not all people have, feel, need this need,
The quandary multi-sided:

Disliking the idea of ceasing,
Vanishing, not knowing
If we go nowhere, somewhere or anywhere.
And as perplexing:
Loving living,
Loving what each breath is giving
Even though the world’s in downfall,
Twisted egos big and small;
Endless ills and kills banal.
Saddest and regrettable,
Gifts that die, disposable.

The basic problem may be fear:
Deep and cold as one grows old;
An angst and anger at no longer being;
Feuds between the bad and good;
The sense of global threat and danger;
Scared of losing what comes closer…
God knows what…

And so I meditate.

The Older I Become #3 8.3.2020 Birth, Death & In Between; Circling Round Experience; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;  Circling Round Ageing; Arlene Nover Corwin

This is a true confessional, part nonsense (as in the genre ‘nonsense poetry) part didactic, meant for those like myself.  🤭😇😅😘🤪 😣 - these emojis representing various aspect pf me, the last called ‘perevering face’.  What fun!

      Learning To Shut Up

How often do you interrupt
Before the other finishes his sentence?
How well do you listen,
Taking in or recollecting
Details and/or essence
Of the other’s presence?
Mea culpa!
That sin mine, wherein
The ego governs;
Two ears  deafened
How embarrassing!
I’m confessing,
But I’m learning,
Earning points in listener’s heaven.
Like a silly pup,
Learning to well,
Shut the h__l up.

Learning To Shut Up 11.11.2020 Circling Round Experience; A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Arlene Nover Corwin

Each Trick On Mac

I wish I knew each trick on Mac
To send and track;
Each new technique
A winning streak in cyber-speak*

Trying hard to not be piqued
By an ineptitude
That lies within the DNA
(or am I justifying being lazy).
Anyway,
I’m way behind in keeping up.
Way behind in sending through
My things to do,
Like all the books I’ve left to publish,
Then when published, to divulge.  

Indulge me:
Am I to be an unknown, known as anon
Until the kids of kids of kids have grown?
Was it centuries before Johan Sebastian Bach prevailed?
What’s-his name the mystic was unveiled?
Lost for ages Raphael (or some old fellow)…
You know what I mean.
And all because I never worked
To learn this darned Machine!

Each Trick On Mac 6.14.2020 A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

*(Gimme a break! It’s just a jest.)

Dear World, There are days (in this case only one one) when, for reasons only known by nature,  one feels peeved, disheartened, discontented, life-weary... A poor set of adjectives  which ought to read 'fed down' or 'unfed' or goodness knows what!  Here's the day I felt "Fed Up":

             Fed Up

When one has been admired,
Fired up and complimented…
There are days when
Cheery, shell self soul
Becomes no longer cheerful in its whole.
‘Exasperated’, ‘aggravated’  -
Compound blend of pique galore,
Paralysis its core, takes over.

‘Annoyed’ and ‘irritated’ are more names
That germinate spores of fed up-ness,
Helplessness,
Frustration there inside, beside.

A micro sense of hopelessness,
A no way out,
A strained acceptance.
In which case, a simple business
Which is what and all it is!

Crushed, pushed,
Squelched, squished,
Dashed, squashed -
Mind disheartened,
(Does the mind have heart, heart mind?)
One fights discouragement;
All the dis- words there that bind
And blind.
But,
Hope will be caught or thwarted,
Hope will not say no lifelong,
The state of fed up-ness being all wrong!
One sees the flaw
And starts to thaw
When one has got some patience back.
But for the moment one’s fed up
And fallen off the hope train track.

Fed Up 2.3.2020 Pure Nakedness; Arlene Nover Corwin

Everything That Comes To The Surface

Everything that makes its way onto the surface
May be good,
Its matter surplus, or not wanted -
Dead fish notwithstanding.

A surgeon’s stitch forgot, ignored,
(as was my dated fate of late);
The spooned off  fat on top of soup,
Secret thoughts self hidden
Coming up and out unbidden,
Sifting happiness from pain.

Again, again,
Examples endless:
Plants that sprout to charm the bees;
Corks that float,
Pus gravitating towards an ‘out’,
Shoots whose object’s being eaten…
Endless signature secretions
For the use of us
And every creature,
Surface purpose their first feature.

Everything That Comes To The Surface 3.12.2020 Nature Of & In Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin

The Moment Of Now

The moment of now
Can never be repeated;
Never come as, why, and how
It did.

To be used
It must be used for what it is,
For what it is, is without price
To use, up to the hilt, and dealt
With live, a life improvisation.

As for influences:
You imbibe them round the clock;
That is to say, you soak them up non-stop,
And by your preferences,
Confer on population near
Around the clock, non-stop,
Effects and influences till you drop.

As influencer, everyday aware
That you are kindling’s  scintilla —
The tiny spark that fires up the furthest star,
Let what you’re conscious of become
The constant one you  are.

The moment’s measurement
Is infinitely small;
It cannot be defined at all.
One can just drink it in;
The never-ending, golden link
That bends and anchors then to now.
The Moment Of Now 4.14.2020 Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Time II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Simply following the flow of thought.    

            Curiosity

Curiosity!  
So admirable and so worthwhile.
It never ‘killed a cat.’
It’s so much more than that.
in one who has it,
It may seem idiosyncratic.

But a treasure trove potential,
Of the jewelled and ideal,
Experiential and essential,
Meant to be a quality of more than ‘simple’,
Curiosity which makes you strong,
Through broadened knowledge,
Every living thing and not, a college,
It is spirit:  spirit of enquiry -
For none deny
It is a spirit.
Oddity  but spirit always is;
All have, few use,
The masses leaning on old views.

One thinks a thought and wonders why
And where and how and who
And so on till the thought is through.
These days it’s only to pursue
And follow through: so easy
With technology.

A universal literacy is all that’s needed.
Freedom helps.  
Once seeded, curiosity might gain nobility,
Respectability.
Both well deserved
And In the end, serve self
And all humanity.

Curiosity 7.15.2020 The Processes: Creative, thinking, Meditative II; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

Ideas Are Always There

In the bubbling babble, clamber, scramble
For ascendancy and clarity,
Ideas of every kind
Are forming pictures, wishes, plans and fancies,
Goals and targets; theories.
In the chaos of the mind,
Suppressed, surpassed you find
Surprises ne’er expected.

For those who write,
Who claim a ‘writer’s block’
I say “Knock, knock!”
Ideas are there.
You cannot stop ‘em.  

There to joke with, poke around, soak up
Trusting in instinct without fear,
This writer does declare
You can, whenever, fix things later.

Writing is not made of marble, though
I have a feeling Michelangelo
Could do it, ideas flowing, never ending,
Sending signals of association
And creation
To the hands which held hammer or pen.

So, friend,
When you awake, have breakfasted,
Be sure your ideation-mind is interested.
And here’s the thing:
Pure and simple interesting!

Ideas Are Always There 7.26.2020 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Circling Round  Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

Bombarded📡🔭☮️♨️‼️
(a little reflection on our times, our culture)

We’re so bombarded,
We’ve been hardened,
Brains diluted,  convoluted.
What of us? The focussing?
You ask, “What is this focus thing?”  It is:

To isolate, to single out,
To deeply delve,
Steeping the self into a matter,
Inner chatter quietened,
The scattering restrained, frustrated.
You, the goalie concentrated.

Deluged by the information’s
Huge amount of information
Taken in each night, each day
From which we never get away.,
It is in every sense a blitz
Common sense’s road to denseness.

Even with this idiocy
One cannot leave society.
Are there solutions?
Meditations? Isolation?
Exploration of the self by watching, snatching
With an inner eye the ‘I’ inside?  
Yes.

To ride out the assault that baits you
Is to learn what translates into
Independence and detachment,
Kindness to your fellow man,
Knowledge of what’s really real:
A heart of gold and mind like steel.

These are just proposals sent
To free you from this time’s bombardment.
Hints and tips to steer your star -
That’s all they are.

Because you suffer,
Seldom knowing what you’re after,
From not knowing that you suffer.
Yes, not knowing just how much you suffer
From not knowing what you’re after.

Bombarded 8.1.2020 Our Times, Our Culture II; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

Whenever I can't think of anything to write, I turn to nature.  I've done it dozens of times: not an idea and suddenly, then gradually a charming poem comes forth.  An idea, then the work; title, words, rhymes, meter, meaning - all meshes and co-relates.  The word "orange" is a challenge, believe me.

            Turning Orange

In regions where it’s turning autumn,
Leaves red, yellow.
In our garden, they’re not yellow,
Oddly, loudly, orange yelling.

Old New Yorker I,
Used to multicoloured Falls,
I have fallen for this gaudy and remarkably
High-color, almost supernatural year phase.

In appearance, almost artificial.
What one sees is inspirational,
Which brings to mind,
Springs to mind
(It cannot ‘spring’ because it’s autumn coming soon)  
An August moon.

In the meantime, if  September
Gives  a smooth transition -
Sunny days into October,  summer
Melting into autumn:
Foxes foraging, squirrels storage-ing;
Porridge on the stove encouraging;
Summing up for coming winter:
Rhododendron green turned orange.

Turning Orange 9.11.2020 Circling Round Nature II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Energy Can Never Be Destroyed

Foremost!  Such a multitude of forms!
Energy can never be destroyed.
It simply, I mean simply
Changes into throngs of power.
Where does fat go when you lose some weight?
First it goes to *** and sweat,    
Some to it to eyes that tear,
For x percent is water.

No energy goes nowhere,
Force never disappearing, but transformed
Moves to another sphere.
  
Existence carries on.

It has, it is a quantity.
Changed in its quality
But not created or destroyed,
Hanging ‘round us near or far.
Perhaps the tummy fat you lost
Has reached a star.
Charming, that!

And so, do things you ought! anNeverBeDestroyed3.302020
Send out the best you have,
Also the worst that’s left
To shift as gift to transformation,
Dissipate and go someplace
To leave what’s left a better you.

Burn up those extra calories,
The energies, which thermal, chemical,
Nuclear, electrical, elastic, plastic,
Even gravitational all have uses:
Uses and abuses (dark and light).

Use the energy of mind.
It is the powered you supreme.
It, the best that you can find to flower will.
Thinking, moving, sitting still,
Use the treasured energy:
Your measure of the whole.
EnergyCanNeverBeDestroyed3.30.2020 Nature Of & In Reality;
Arlene Nover Corwin

Performance Mantra

Today’s didactic insight: just happened to hear the phrase ‘the sin of pride’ this morning.  So here:

        The Sin Of Pride

I heard the phrase: it froze, was glued.
First thought: What’s sin?
The second: what is pride?

A sin is when you miss the mark,
(Connected to self- condemnation -
Sadly, to iniquity )
Pride is when you’ve chosen wrongly,
Guided by a mostly falsely high opinion
Of oneself and one’s importance.

Yet we use it as a virtue,
Nurture as if it were good;
Pride in country, children, kin..
Fact: exclusion and restriction;
Leaving out, elimination;,
Failing to include oneself as sinful,
Ignorant and rude.

Reality contains the certitude
That we are all a family
With variations in the tree:
Tendency and quality, person, personality.
None is better or more worthy -
(one more fancy theory).

We’ve all filled with invasive traits:
“All-inclusive” like the place.
Different nose, different face,
Different color, difference race;
Talents more or less intense;
On the fence;  
Misrepresented.

Pride: to swap for modesty,
A lack of vanity,
The ever growing insight that we
All are everyone and nobody.

The Sin Of Pride 4.26.2020 Definitely Didactic II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Writing all the time, dreaming about good rhyme, meter, theme, here’s what I scribbled last night in bed, watching TV.

     Everything Comes To An End, Or Does It?

Walking down the avenue,
Masses walking toward me,
Thinking all too suddenly:
“None of you will be here
In a hundred years”

Then again watching the telly
(British English for TV)
Witness to a documentary
(BBC coincidentally)
“Forsaken Structures” (do not quote me)
Buildings, bridges, monumental fixtures,
                                pictures, architectures...
Seeing these phantasmagoria
Fanatical and gory, built for lasting glory
Disappear rot, lost to time,
Corroding or exploding;  stored in history.
So it goes,
As often said, ‘the way the wind blows’.

Now for the gigantic BUT…
Everything comes to an end - or does it?
Does it turn, re-turn transformed, renewed?
Expansion and contraction going on and on and on…
Is the law of cause/effect a law or non-?
Strolling avenue-rs come again, again,
Each soul etern-
                         al?

Everything Comes To An End… 2.16.2020 Birth, Death & In Between III; Arlene Nover Corwin

We Are Strange Mixtures

Human beings are notorious -
Thinking up excuses
In defense of faulty judgment
Or of ‘right out’ low intent.

One knows people, modest, kind,
Who fall down on their sword
When it concerns the lie.
Defensive in the most unworthy sense
Which to the hearer makes no sense,
Is nonsense clear, reasoning vague. logic  dense.

We are a race of contradictions,
Our convictions often faulty.
It is bravery
To always try to tell the truth,
Admit one or the hundredth myth.
What, why this fear of truth?

The ego, which we need to live -
A dual tool for our survival.
Is precisely that - a dual fuel.
One part tells us we are we,
The other gives us vanity.

To allay and keep at bay the negative,
Become the person meant to be:
Open, humble, self assured, free of funk-anxiety
Mixture unified and undefiled
Is the gift we will receive.

We Are Strange Mixtures 6.12.2020 Circling Round Experience; Definitely Didactic II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Yesterday: your Birth Day!
Not just  'birthday', automatic as a ****,
But Birth Day: Such two words!
Important!  No, essential!
Referential, consequential!
Did not forget.
I hurt my foot, so didn't write,
It hurt all hours, day and night!
But here I am, in bed, inspired,
Caffeinated and un-tired,
Thinking lovingly about
Dear gifted Frederick inside out,
And wishing, hoping for the best:
Rest, blessed and lifelong:
*****, bass & muscles strong,
Knowing that you are among
The  smartest and most seeking of the throng.
With all my loving-est of song,🙏✍️🎹🎼🎤
Arlene (and Kent, of course)

More Questions

More questions from reflections
For your meditations:
What verbs apply:
To have, to be…?
That point of energy
Containing all,
No, being all, no, knowing all?
A consciousness? Non-consciousness?
Verbs puny.
Adjectives, nouns, pronouns too
Think or bust, reflect you must;
Inevitable, you will ponder, contemplate,
Bit by bit eliminate…
That’s it!

He/she, even it is you,
And if complete,
Then you’re its part,
A part-ner cog.

Assuming cause,
You/He all One,
A mind aware, with laws.
It’s God, for goodness!

Theoretically, the  hypothetical
Needs faith to lead faith to
The  real;
The anything of something..

More Questions 8.22.2013/revised 2.7.2020 /5.12.2020 To The Child Mystic II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative; Circling Round Meditation; Arlene Nover Corwin

Living With Three Fingers

You become:
More concentrated,
Slower,
Focussed, isolating body parts
As act demands.

One might maintain
IQ is raised, synapses sewn;
New cells in charge,
Not barging in
But chemically presenting selves
With means, new paths that swath
New clumsiness
In cloths of velvet.

Life imagined as a hell
Is well behaved instead,
The head collected,
Body following its lead.

Underneath,
And one can only speculate,
There is a will -
Quite silent, still,
But still a powered character its own.

Achievements shown, talents done
Through ‘fingers three,’
You still are you - will always be.
And from this moment, ‘finger free’.

Living With Three Fingers 6.4.2020 Circling Round Experience; Pure Nakedness II; Arlene Nover Corwin

A worthy thing.

         Your Style

Do a one thing long enough,
Often enough;
You will see a style come forth.
Identifiable as your style,
Pattern coming from within
Your structure as a whole.

But line that guides
Lays undiscovered  
Till the inner person,
His or ‘her’ son finds their role.

Back to style in art or dress:
Deep in, steeped in your nature
It unrolls, unfolds in stature
Till its maturation shows.

The key:
Repeat the thing you love to do -
The mode you cannot do without.
A theme, a form, a fashion’s look -
Test and smile, for all the while
You can look forward to a style.

Your Style 6.7.2020 Pure Nakedness II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Scribbled this out last evening when I couldn’t think of anything to say.  The first two line came out on pencil.  The sixth and seventh came next.  The rest came together this morning.  A total of three hours, I would think.  Eventually a poem worth the reading.

     Worth The Reading Time

Much of what one reads about
Is love ignited, unrequited…
Plight, excite, delight: all adjectives that end in -ite,
Narratives that never land;
Unfulfilled and ne’er full-ended.
Searching for someone to love;
Searching for the one true love.

For those inclined to love Divine -
The kind of love a union
With the One its aim and function;
That suffices as the gold; the mine
Of all the gemstones in the world.

Tomes we seek, themes that speak
Of higher things than lips and lust,
That never tire or expire,
But encrusted with a gem unchanging
Are worth the reading time forever.

Worth the Reading Time 11.28.2020 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Circling Round Experience; Circling Round Eros; Love Relationships II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Sorry to bother you on New Year’s Day, but yesterday being about love, this reaction burned itself into my brain today.
Happy New Year!

           New Year’s Day 2020

While Nintendo tends to games that train,
Australia burns.
Koala bears and kangaroos, the populace
Lose loves and lives:  Apocalypse.

We sit and watch the TV news,
Last night’s champagne obscurely active,
We alive, not losing home and life, the fact is,
There can never be
                               equality,
Wins and loss an unmoved boss.

While year becomes a twenty-twenty,
Eyesight lags behind and we see worse than ever,
We, the cognoscenti severed from reality.

I, one of the ‘cognoscenti’ weak in kindness,
Strong in ignorance, probably a hubris too.  Goodness me,
To see the goodness and receive, retrieve it,
That’s the trick.

A slick and sick society,
We cheat and lie
To satisfy self-serving need,
Feed vanity’s rapacious greed;
A lie which grieves the planet as we watch it die
While I write futile poetry and pry
This New Year twenty twenty.

New Year’s Day 2020 1.1.2020
Our Times, Our Culture II; Arlene Nover Corwin

You Are The Only You, You Have

One hears about the worry many
Have about their kin
In times of inactivity, fragility,
Consciousness tuned in to facts and day’s report -
The only fact to care about:
You are the only you, you have.
You cannot save another,
No behavior, thought or flurry
Can affect the other.

One liberating grace:
The others too must face that they too
Are the place there is to hide,  
A living emphasis inside
Where every measured space
Is space enough to find some peace.
An inner armour and release.

You Are The Only You, You Have 4.15.2020 Circling Round reality; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin