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Arlene Corwin Jul 2020
Things Come & Go

Things come and go:
Lightening bright and sudden
Over in a nano-second.
Dew, its job completed,
Lost in air, evaporated.

Forms diverse;
A shared non-substance: emptiness.
A single thing the ring of truth is that we are illusory.
Still paradoxically,
But for a shape, look, name
We are the permanently same inside;                                    
The rest a mutable ephemeral,
And seldom in the know
That things come and they go
As quickly as they do.
Things Come & Go 6.4.2020 Birth, Death & In Between III; Arlene Nover Corwin
Arlene Corwin Jun 2020
To Only Deal With What You’ve Got

To only deal with what you’ve got,
Not what you had,
And seldom think one step ahead,
That is the art.

To start each day
With not a hope that it will stay,
But use each sense of consciousness
With might and care:
Sight, smell, touch, taste, aware
As second authorises.

Seconds shrink to nano-points,
Muscles, joints awaken
For the sake of mind and spirit.
To give in to mind lets spirit grow,
For mind knows that you’re doing right;
Doing what you’re meant to,
Sure of what you’re meant to
Nano-hour by nano-hour;
Pure and purer, power by power.

To only deal with what you’ve got,
With what’s been handed
Where you’ve landed
Is the license of consent
To the whole science
Of existence.

To Only Deal With What You’ve Got 6.30.2020 Circling Round Experience;  Circling Round Existence II; Arlene Nover Corwin
Arlene Corwin Jun 2020
Mourning Patricia’s Mom

Patricia’s mom, gone.  Ninety-one.
How to write a requiem:
Remembrance in honor…and an honor
For this writer.

Reaching ninety-one, then gone.
I didn’t know her,
But know her daughter
And I wish to honor all I saw.

One learns a lot from observation.
More aware of what one’s got
When day comes and there’s not a dot
Of earthly earnings, birthday's energies run out.

In the meantime, one’s learned
Love’s devotion is the winner
Where there is no sinner
But an ocean of reward:
Award: a honeycomb of golden good.

So in meekness I pay homage to:
The daughter
And the mother
And all others who, with gestures of unfeigned support,
Find words of thoughtfulness  and comfort.

Dear Patricia,
Know that I impart,
The dearest feelings in my heart,
Certain that you’ll pass them on
With love and deep affection.
Without selfishness but blessedness,
A messenger to all surrounding.
Mourning mom with love abounding,
Mourning Patricias’s Mom 6.29.2020 Birth, Death & In Between III; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin
Arlene Corwin Jun 2020
A Thought To The Writer

I’ve decided - no concluded
That there is no finished product -
That the motto is revision,
Which takes courage and reflection;

Perspective, understanding that
It’s destiny that leads,
Needs continually changing,
As are viewpoints -
Frame of reference
Ever you.

When you’re reading what you’ve written
(I say this from observation)
You’ve come back a different person.
You discover when reviewing,
What was smitten needs renewing:
Shakespeare tearing up the script,
To Romeo and Juliet
Because he thought the first was sh_t.
No double suicide;
No place where anyone has died.

Yes, there is no finished product;
Not in literature or life.
We inspect, reflect, reject
And we rewrite.

A ThoughtTo The Writer 6.29.2020 The Processes: Creative, Thinking Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin
Arlene Corwin Jun 2020
Ducks Came Onto The Grass Today

It is divine. A day in June,
A paradise.
As here we sit and chat a bit
‘Bout that and this, this and that.

Paper plates of summer food.
Some tête á tête:
The world seems good.
Unparalleled.
Who could want more,
The summer air our succour.

Our new clipped lawn
Down to a our boathouse
Housing table, chair
For guests who come there.
Little rowing boat with motor
All prepared to spawn small trips
For tiny ships
Onto the relatively little waters.

Speaking of our lakefront syrup,
Ducks came up onto the grass.
They hadn’t asked,
They visited, so used to bread
Were they..  Then suddenly,
Five more waded ashore,
Ready for a bready
                           exploration.

Eight pm, sun still high,
Ducks swum away, good TV waiting
Sauntering, we left our haven
For the secondary heaven
Of our home some steps above.
A sort of, kind of
Paradis-ical true love.
What a day!

Ducks Came Onto The Grass Today 6.25.2020 Circling Round Nature II; Circling Round Experience;
Arlene Corwin Jun 2020
This started personally, turned philosophical, then existential (or vice versa) but ended with the current pandemic!  
Fondly, Arlene
The Benefits Of…Having Been, Becoming, Being
Once you have been comatose,
Been handicapped, come home and started life.
There is no pre-supposing.  
It’s a door.
You pay attention so much more.
You notice other’s posture,
Belly, maturation, stature.
On yourself and on the other -
And say nothing.  
Judgement gone
It’s but to carry on.
All mankind is afflicted.

You are functions and non-functions:
Need to buy a button-hole-der, buttoner (they do exist!)
Set in motion one more ‘trick’ or sleight of hand;
Leave the left, to write with right
Hold the knife without self-wound.
When standing up to feel heel first,
Be wary when foot's bare, ground's wet.

Yet, what you notice even more’s, the gifted
And the giving, all the love around,
The boundless care
When your own hair is falling.
People are so kind,
So hard defined.

As for every passing day.
Creative in its way,
With pandemonium’s pandemic,
You now frolic in the kitchen,
Train and try new, fewer gimmicks,
Mimicry from TV inspiration one's own new found brick.

Oh, the things you learn from having been.
Most of all, that you remain.

British informal, dated a generous, helpful, and reliable person: ‘You are really a brick,’ Gloria said.
Arlene Corwin Jun 2020
I’m taking the liberty of sending you something just finished,  Motivated first by the thought of Co-vid people (stuck down or not) living in small apartments, forced by necessity to be alone and perhaps going bonkers.  Then, of course, I knew I was speaking to any- everyone - period.
Hot off the press:
     How To Tackle Loneliness

Tackle: such a funny word,
A lovely word, an active word.
Loneliness: a sad, inactive, ‘only’ word
Which smells of isolation,
Friendlessness, abandonment, rejection.
Unalloyed projection
Of a mind not seeing rightly.

All it needs is rectifying;
Taking thoughts from out the air
Or in the head where thoughts are spread.
Rejecting systematically the whirling round,
And casting out their ugly sound;
Lifting hand or leg or ‘***’
To something new albeit ‘dumb’.
It does not matter what you do.
It’s just to shift the thought somehow;
Shake the body, use the eye, eyebrow;
Limbs too are there to help you stay
New focussed, endlessly creative.

You’re not alone when you’re alone.
Make your thoughts a telephone.
Ideas are constant.
Change the coin
With which to launch the motivation -
And the whole becomes a boon
To get your ‘happy’ hormones working.
Happiness is always lurking -
There to make you comfortable.

Loneliness, the thief of solace,
A grief giver, full of malice
Leaves when you create in mind,
Find and form and shape some kind
Of Anything.

Use your senses - all of them:
Eyes, nose, ears, tongue, touch: each limb.
You’ve got a toolbox built within.
You have and are your best companion.
There!  A sound and practical solution
Lies at hand.
How To Tackle Loneliness 6.22.2020 The Processes:Creative,Thinking, Meditative; Definitely Didactic II;Arlene Nover Corwin
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