When you find whatever it is you’re looking for
I hope you’ll remember who helped steer the ship
When your legs were too dull to play captain.

A Body Winds Down

A body winding down -
Its signs a preparation:
Loss of appetite, sound sleep at night;
Strength in arm and grip,
Youthful movement in the hip;
Fifty small, small things of note -
To note, denote, remote
As they may be.

Beginning early, barely showing:
Gone or worn, the bite uneven,
Pearly whites no longer pearly;
Vocal cords and tongue or throat
Cracked, coated…
Body borne from infancy,
Winding down.

There it is, the fact of it.
Can you take
The tact of it?
(Or tactlessness -
The zero chance to make
It over?)
Living’s always closing in on kith and kin -
On all and every who can’t win,
The numbers passing by
Each day receding into destiny.
                        
A Body Winds Down 9.14.2017
Circling Round Aging; Birth, Death & In Between II; Circling Round Wrinkles;
Arlene Corwin

It’s April, and I
have everyone fooled,

that my passion is gone,
the fire has cooled

that my eyes don’t expand,
when see you around

that my thoughts stay intact
when you’re there.

that my mouth says its words
not for you anymore,

and my heart as gone back
to its beat from before.

that I’m angry at you,
but i don’t know for what

that I’m more independent,
and happier,
but-

the new “him” in my poems
doesn’t shatter my ground

I’ve forgotten the meaning
of how to astound-

of how to surprise,
or be fearful of loss

of the things that are mine
and the things that you toss

but everything's fine
and you’re nothing divine

and it’s april,
and I am a fool

One day
I'm going to disappear
Like the dust from where I came from

I'm going to burst out of the earth
Like a bubble
Freeing the air that’s desperately trying to escape it's brittle cage

I'm going to disperse
Like liquid water molecules
Evaporating from this hell of life

I will be like the flying pollen grains
Constantly going with the flow
Having no idea of where to go
Got not a single moment of doubt
But hey here I am

But one day
I am going to go out of the earth
Face the world alone
Be the face of something grand
Something shiny
Something important

But then I'll wither
And forever disappear

I'm not quite fixed yet,
I'm still a little broken,
But I refuse to let my pain go unspoken,
Some days are better then today,
Things don't always go right in everyway,
I'm not quite happy yet,
And I think that that's ok,
Because I'm always fighting,
Every single day,
I'm not quite sure yet,
But, I think that i'll be soon,
I think i'll know exactly what I want,
And i'll love it too.

Death,
Something that is so unpredictable,
a mystery that can never be solved,
is what lies ahead.
As one lies dying on the bed,
As one lies thinking of one's loved ones,
the light suddenly seems so far away,
and a tunnel comes to an end.
At the end of tunnel is something better,
or is it?

one minute the written piece
will be so nicely posted
then in the very next minute
it will be quickly unposted

an indecisive mind works
on the submission page
switching the on and off switch
with an unregulated gauge  

numerous times
this pattern
has occurred to confuse
numerous times
this pattern
frequently does get a use

before offering
any pieces for posting
the submitter needs
to be sure of the hosting

My words for you . . .
have been few
your name not overused
upon my tongue
adjectives sparce and repeated
Because to me
Your love is serious

I didn't step this way
to turn back
I didn't spin my feelings into lovely webs with shining prisms
Because so often
these have left

I felt at once so sure
that I terrified myself
I knew . . .
He said . . .
My rational thought filled my happy heart with dread
So there was no place for shallow, fancy poems
In the face of bold affection
shy but firmly
Love