"hoaxer" poems
White sand
Cold lick
Black ice
Charcoal sea
Wind untouched
Whisper – chiseler fraudster hoaxer the deceiver – the nameless gust
Jul 23, 2011
Jul 23, 2011 at 9:17 AM UTC
WHY MOURNING
Do you know anyone who doesn’t die?
Who hasn’t died?
Who will not die?
Not I.
How to accept?
Not mourn?
Think through to not have pain,
(For pain seems fruitless), for
To not accept
Is like rejecting sun and moon,
Existence, proven, measured, seen.
Do I lament when atoms split?
Grieve, regret,
Have sadness that I can’t get over.
Nover*
Doesn’t.
Pain [we have] when others die –
That ‘other’ human, cow or dragonfly.
The local forester sawed down a fir
Which was for sure,
A hundred fifty years or more.
I mourned,
Stump and its rings all it passed down.
Is it absence or remembrance?
Is it longing for a something now a non-thing non-existing?
Is it clinging to a someone
Over whom we have no power,
Never had? Could it be wrong-er?
Fate and destiny his, hers or its
Through all of time and history.
I cannot think of one good reason
Vindicating mourning.
Were we meant for suffering?
Though I [clearly] cannot clarify,
We’re seeing wrongly,
Thinking strongly wrongly,
Wrought of ego’s braggadocio,
The hallowed hoaxer of emotions.
*Nover: me, born Arlene Faith Nover
Why Mourning 11.4.2017
Birth, Death & In Between III; Nature Of & In Reality; Revelations Big & Small; Circling Round Reality; Circling Round Egos;
Arlene Corwin
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 7:54 AM UTC