The place we stood to take photos
and you shamelessly owned your bright red chappal (slippers)
and I loved it
the place where I loved you
we checked the shades of lipsticks on our hands
love red on your hand and your skin cream on mine
the place where you asked me for a hug
and your mom nearly caught us in the act

This was also the place we shopped for you
where you kissed me inside a cabin in a try room
the same place we had a conversation & cinnabon
while people stared and almost envied you
because of all the love you got from me
where we loved the dazzling blue traditional dress
which was just too expensive
but that didn't stop us from looking

The place where we broke stereotypes
in more ways than one
and I couldn't help but remember how
we both hated shopping
but loved shopping together
how you always picked faster than I did
but i still picked for you
because you liked it better that way

All I could think of were the words
words you had said there then
and I could only ask myself
if you ever meant a single one

"Choose for me"
"Your choice of dress makes my Eid special"
"Kiss me"
"You are my favorite person to shop with"
"Lets do this again soon"
"Thankyou for the beautiful day"
"I love you"

Those words still echo through the walls of that place
and the walls inside my head

echo
Echo
ECHO
LOUD
STOP

I LOVE YOU
YOU SAID THAT
I FCKING LOVE YOU
YOU SAID THAT

STOP
LOUD
ECHO
Echo
echo

All I can think of are the words
you say now

"I don't even love you anymore"
"I didn't miss you"
"I hope you die"
"I don't want a forever with you"
"I can't commit to you anymore"

I am haunted by your ghost
in this city
and I say ghost because you are dead
this person is a shell with no soul
or heart

I am haunted by your ghost
in this city
everything smells of you
and looks like you
and sounds like you

And I am going crazy
in this place
where **we loved

A poet,
hopeful; on course.
Writing not for interest,
but due to force.

A writer,
worried somewhere near.
Writing not for interest,
but due to fear.

I believe that some of the best art
Comes from a dark place
Not sure what I look like in your eyes,
But clouds inhabit my space
It’s been some time since I felt the heat
And the walls closing in are cold and bleak

Every time that I arise and look up to the morn,
All I find is leery signs and others of forlorn
I was ravished by the wind
And beaten by the rain
I had given it my all and still had nothing to gain

I found peace and I’ve lost it before
He showed me the truth and I’ve only craved more
I found peace once by the pond
With the bees circling in the valley
But even that dissolved once we strolled into saturated alley

Well where did I go?
Where did he lead me?
If I had the chance to tell you...
You wouldn’t believe me

I was ravished by the wind
And washed down with the rain
I know how hard work is to bring success
But all that love results in, is pain
I know that every time is different
But you’re always left feeling the same
With no one else but you and yourself to blame
Alone in the well is where I was left to wither and wane

I hope they’ll be coming for me finally
As I can now feel the pressure
But the light in me is reminding...
That it is the only thing that holds me together

A Dangerous Place

Not new; the world
A risky place:
Too many schools of thought;
Their base defective.
Schools, which in themselves are seeking
Thought that knows thought’s ever-rules.

Kipling’s twain which never meet;
Krishna’s castes all separate;
Towers fall on Babel Street.
Not new.

Impossibility out there:
Worlds of danger everywhere;
Dangers that we can’t escape
Except by staying put
Content with parsnips.

A Dangerous Place 5.9.2004 Our Times, Our Culture; Birth, Death & In Between; Arlene Corwin
          A Dangerous Place #2

Two thousand four come/gone.
Two eighteen still anonymous.
Am I apocalyptic?  
World the warmest since…forever.
Messiurs Putin, Trump and every nuclear dictator,
Arsenals as big as ever.

What we were afraid of then
Is now in multiples.
Viruses that won’t give up,
Fighting each development.
Small to middling large eruptions
Under, over, on the surface.
Coverings and dryings up;
Methane gas, folk that pass
Leaving matches in the grass;
Flarings unintentional.
My old bones susceptible
To substances and circumstance they never knew.
Nature duping us.
Boo hoo? Or ballyhoo?
Is there something new awaiting?
Something generating happiness,
Content with standing-stillness? Wellness?
Who can tell,
Things being as they are:
Not fine, with every sign
An indication
That we’re going in the wrong direction.  
Sorry!

A Dangerous Place #2 2.1.2018 Our Times, Our Culture II; Arlene Corwin

I’ll wager,
if not for thee, I might not have set foot in Alsager,
it could have become another stop I passed through on the train,
in summer sun, or winter rain,
I’d have perhaps thought
“oh this seems a sweet area to reside”
and then forgot all about it and enjoyed the rest of the rail ride,
just a picturesque town of travelled through myth
like Newton Dale Halt or Chapel-en-le-Frith.
I may never have known the names of it’s streets
or what it’s parks are called or where’s a cool place to meet,
never found out where’s a good bang for buck eatery to dine
or which shop has the best deals on two bottles of wine,
never known what it’s like to approach one of it’s doors
and in my tummy feel wings and a soar.
As it is Alsager’s now up there with my most favourite station
I step on to it’s platform with gleeful anticipation,
knowing in 15 mins we’ll be beginning our start,
thank you for Haze for putting this place in my heart.

Beat of a,
romantic music plays
Reaching out his hand
And asking to sway

Hiding her In his arms,
Letting her feel his embrace,
Making her feel safe

Enslaving her eyes with
A little help from
his handsome face.

His hands gently placed,
around her perfect waist.

By saying right words,
at right time,perfect place.

Two strangers,
Staring eye to eye
Standing face to face

Lips aligning,
With perfect pace
Tip of flame
Melting ice

Union of Souls
An alluring sight