I want to know you
And I want you to know me
I want time to fly by
Like the birds migrating by the sea

Be the keeper of my secrets
As I guard your dreams
You make time the present
I’ve always wished for
We keep evolving
Moving away from misery

You roam in my most beautiful fantasies
But nothing’s better
Than when you roam within my reality
I’m endlessly falling for you
But I know the feeling is mutual
So let’s fall forever
Into our own endless melody

i will love you
for longer then i should

we both agreed
this was for the best

we are stuck in quicksand
trying to hold each other up
the most you lift the other
the more you sink

one day
we will be in a better place
and we will stand strong
we will stand together

**** the past, the present, and the future
If we even have one.
I want to be strung up and tangled in your mighty grasp,
Gasping for air between wet mouth kisses and clasping your clammy skin.
I want to forget about the ****** up idea of the world and the form it's taken in society,
And instead take in you, between cigarette drags and Southern Comfort swigs.
I want to feel the pulse of your heart as you ignite with excitement underneath me as our hot skin touches and you yearn for me.
Remember my presence, because passion does not come calling when sought,
It finds its way to you.
And if this ****** up world has brought me to you,
Then here it is-
This is the passion stupid girls like me write ****** poetry about.

Always In Preparation #2
          (a rather long simplification)

Always in preparation for an interview:
What will I answer? Never know.
- What do I like? do things I do, the way I do?
- Write poetry, play jazz, do yoga?
Body/mind my mental window in my mental interview:
And I must justify it all.
Some germ, some theme begins the whole:
The technical; word hurdles
When I write or sing;
All challenging,
Performing, writing or just doing.

T’ween two covers it’s official;
Everything grist-for-the-mill,
I’ll likely publish ‘til I’m still.
No special motive winks or flirts,
No motive hides behind my skirts -

My ears hear musically,
It all comes naturally, substance counting most;
Not tricks, not formulae, cliché -
If there’s a Corwin idiom
It’s in the DNA.
I work out tunes, -out poetry, -out ******.
The mind works out spontaneously,
I (wherever I is to be found) give in, give form,
Substance from-and-in the frame.

In short, I paint myself into a box
And creep around  
Until some [final] satisfaction binds.
A futile paradox:
To clarify and satisfy
The interview,
But there am I,
Always in preparation.

Always In Preparation 7.6.2014
Pure Nakedness; The Processes: Creative, Thinking,Meditative II; revised 11.21.2017
Arlene Corwin