My nightmares
Were thoughts of being called useless
Being isolated
Being hated

My nightmares were thoughts of looniness
Beginning with the word of
Why am I like this?

My nightmares were pain that wouldn't go away
No matter how much I begged or pleaded
They stuck to me like pins

My nightmares gave me fear of truly living
Pushing me into darkness
Pushing everyone away

These nightmares were the days of life for the younger me,
But these times of my past
Made me strong
I embrace these times,
Because they created the me who is here today.

Getting Loonier But Freer

Sitting in the bathtub come prepared:
Pen and pad squared off,
Ready for the spinoff
Boring or imploring
Phrase, theme, word
To make inspired this not tired,
Not yet batty lady
Who, in dotage her,
Is sounding more and more like Lear
(not king – the other one)
Using words in play from fun
To pleasure those with fun-ny bone
Or anyone come close –
With dose of looniness and freedom.

Each thought legitimized – seen through her eyes -
She writes as if the script were scripture,
Thought brought down from god-knows-where,
She, prepared to edit if she must,
Every bit writ down on trust.

The paper pad is soaking wet,
Words dimmed and saturate.
Time to get out of the tub,
Dry hair, the ***’
And superficially skin deeply
Watch the evening’s mediocre,
Scary, all too interruptedly TV.
(For TV’s actually for money,
Not for me, or them’s that’s like me.)
Pity!

Getting Loonier But Freer 11.6.2017
A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Bath Book II;
Arlene Corwin

i play and my own feet **** in my toes i am little
little funny crawler sheets and heavy ornamental thoughts
and breaths
i am and become and have completely absorbed off-likened thorough maddened let me go and fattened unleashment like a hound

on account of lately i want more and
longer nights make me lady of looniness
loneliness written on my left breast on the back of my left ribs terrifying thoughts and wounds and far from the eye
unsatisfied crinkling

of streaming and forward i know nothing my back against
my hopes i will sieve the honey yet keep nothing my tongue retracting into my mouth only silence not oracle

red and black an emblem for apples and craters poison and mindstream paraphernalia and household women on shores women in dresses
and in piles my own two infinite desires