A poem with secrets of hidden messages inside
alligned to give you ancient age-old truths
written to be our reference, sacred guide
splendid packs with blueprints, witnessed proofs
alienated thought patterns, so hard to comprehend
ideas that blow your mind and how to think
did you expect that metals can change and defend
of connected telepathy in pilot-machine link?
Of course, how could you know the false from facts?
in school one never learned important news
try to mention mystic, ancient artifacts
that’s been held in shadow from the public views
nobody knows for they have never seen
the tons of things hidden in plain sight
the codes of zephyr: placed décor on scene
someday, some zombie finds the truth, it might
be then we know if test will hit the Earth
the rain of truth much needed at its core!
the time will come, ached truth is in new birth,
and we will find blue portal’s just a door
for us to enter; sacred adepts knew our names
it’s been our fate since we ever were conceived
to reach the stars, receive many rightful claims
in kindness we shall let our belongings be revealed
pro take it back, and grow as we rebirth rejoined
accessing our inner worlds dialed into invigorating starts
there are lots of things humans can reveal as purloined
let’s tap into our inner worlds: see! Follow path of heart!
we have all the answers needed creating our truth today
courage is inside of us, we only need letting it flow in light!
let your fears fly and glow in stars, clear your voice and say:
“I will let the world evolve, will let my! soul lead in fight!”

When I stare into the stars they remind me of how you illuminated my entire world,  before the sky got so tired cause it's left in the reflection​ you imprinted​ it with. These days grow longer reminding me how all the beauty is precious before taken for granted.   Than it doesn't refuse to break through..  As season may change the reason that mark just  exactly everything in this heart.   Leaving the pluses​ absently  beating in your presence.  The ocean may collide with its heavy blue waves crashing but doesn't quite compare to these eyes that collided with my soul that lit up the darkest depths deep within.   Everything taints in your reflection cause I doesn't surpass the beautiful unique  soul that stood before my eyes..  Even in the most concealing disguise  she will shine ever so bright an that right there was my light..  An  nothing could dim such a twin flame that could never drain..  Even if its ever taken away.  In my heart chained down in your reflection..  The truth that steers my direction

I'm always trying to figure out why I go back time and again to writing poetry.  It's such a strange phenomenon.  Sometimes, like now, I'm allowed a glint.

      Poetry Is My Means

Poetry is my means:
To thinking out a thought;
To finding more about myself;
To analyzing good and bad:
To making tail or head
Of circumstance.



Poetry helps me define,
Refine,
Become a finer person,                
Binding my persona.



So many things I did not know
Of which I had not one iota
Of ability to see:
The ****, silly, plus the *****-nilly
Miracle of mind,
Its mysteries revealing hints
And hinting at the revelations
Which belong to geniuses
And saints:
Everything I ain’t.

In learning and forgiving            
Poetry is everything a giving gift
Can give.

Poetry Is My Means 4.15.2018 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative III; Revelations Big & Small; Arlene Corwin

On dark mysterious nights
A young mysterious lady
(Who had mysterious black hair
And wore a mysterious black dress)
Brought mysterious black berries
From a mysterious garden
To her mysterious hut.

One day a mysterious man
Knocked at her mysterious hut
The mysterious lady welcomed him in
And gave him a mysterious drink.

The mysterious man died a mysterious death.