Logotherapy in the Virus-Time - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poetricdrivel.blogspot.com

Logotherapy in the Virus-Time

I search for God within my books
Just as I scan the sky for Him
And peer into the minnow-shallows
And listen for His voice by night





(“Logotherapy” is an allusion to Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning)

Obsequies for a Hummingbird - a virus-free poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Obsequies for a Hummingbird

Some disagree about the nature of death
Maintaining that it is in the nature of life
A logical end, and none should be mourned
But we were in Eden, and so we mourn

A hummingbird in death is unnatural
Its tiny wings should be as immortal as
They are invisible in darting flight
Shimmering forever in green and red

I will not bury it, no; I will lift
It gently into the bole of an oak

And from there, God…

Fleur D'espoir (Flower of Hope) - poem and picture in the virus-time

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Fleur D’espoir

The deep blue spiderwort – she does not know
An epidemic now has been declared
And all the world beyond her cobalt glow
Has found itself panicked and unprepared

The sunbright spiderwort – upon the lawn
Reposes in her leafy springtime berth
Delighting in the sweet birds’ carillon
Smiling at Heaven, but close to the earth

The joyful spiderwort – careless of fear
Gives us hope, as always, in her new year

Toy Graduation Ducks - poem in the virus-time

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Toy Graduation Ducks

In another era – two weeks ago –
I ordered a box of graduation ducks
To be given to the high school seniors
As is my custom, for a bit of fun

But now…

The ducks have not arrived; the schools are closed
The stores are open, but their shelves are bare
The students are dispersed, only god knows where
Maybe we won’t see all of them again

Is this a time to think about toy ducks?
Yes

Poetic First Lines Re-imagined for a Time of Self-Distancing - entertainment

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Poetic First Lines Re-imagined for a Time of Self-Distancing

1. “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” Robert Frost

Whose woods these are, I think I know
His house is still in lockdown, though


2. “Sea-Fever,” John Masefield

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky
But with all the travel restrictions, I can kiss that idea good-bye


3. “If,” Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs, and stealing T.P. from the loo


4. “Sailing to Byzantium,” W. B Yeats

That is no country for old men. The young
Keep social distance, birds watch Netflix


5. “Night Mail,” W. H Auden

This is the Night Mail crossing the border
Bringing the cheque and the quarantine order


6. “Zima Junction,” Yevgeny Yevtushenko

As we get older we get honester,
And hand sanitizer when we can find it


7. “La Belle Dame sans Merci,” John Keats

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The bread is all gone from the shelves
And no birds sing.

8. “Fiesta Melons,” Sylvia Plath

In Benidorm there are melons,
Whole donkey-carts full

No good for wiping


9. “The World I Used to Know,” Rod McKuen

Someday some old familiar rain
Will come along and know my name
And tell me all the Spam is gone
And I’ll have to move along


10. “What is This Gypsy Passion for Separation?” Marina Tsvetaeva

What is this gypsy passion for separation, this
Readiness to rush off – when we’ve just met?

(I didn’t change a word of this one)

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A Rainy Day and Locked-Down Anyway - poem in the virus-time

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

A Rainy Day and Locked-Down Anyway

No excuses, of course: we must get dressed
If death itself appears at the front door
We would not want to be caught in our ‘jammies
Or in surrender flaked upon the couch

We will wake up to a glad morning hymn
And for inspection wash and brush and dress
For even if nobody else sees us, God will
And we must be ready for the Office of Lauds

That God doesn’t care how we’re dressed for prayer
Is a thumping lie: Up! and dress with care

With a Dog and an Oxygen Tank - poem in the virus-time

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

With a Dog and an Oxygen Tank

An old man with a dog and oxygen tank
Steers his duct-taped golf cart to the café
For the morning liturgy at his corner seat
The vinyl cathedra where he presides in state

At midnight all the cafes must be closed
It’s for our own good, the wise governor says
But since Pontius Pilate, who trusts governors?
All churches are closed, and, worse, all cafes

Where and with whom can he worship today
That old man with his dog and oxygen tank

Pushkin and the Sheriff's Report - virus-free poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Pushkin and the Sheriff’s Report

In a languid Russian story or play
A beautiful young woman in a summer dress
Beside a willow-tree lake sits and dreams
Over a novel as a caller arrives

But in our time we read in the sheriff’s report
Of tatted old meth-gals knifing each other
In a junked-out trailer surrounded by trash
While a bony meth-boy watches the fight

Love ends

Sometimes with notes in rounded copperplate
Sometimes with knives down at the trailer park

Keep Calm and Carry Out Lunch in a Paper Sack - weekly column in the virus-time

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com
Poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

(The Governor of Texas has ordered that most businesses and all table-service restaurants, including the roadside old-guy cafes, be shut down indefinitely as of midnight, Friday, the 20th of March 2020.)

Keep Calm and Carry Out Lunch in a Paper Sack

Several days ago a friend and I enjoyed our weekly lunch. In a restaurant. Surrounded by people. We shook hands both hail and farewell. Wild ‘n’ crazy, eh? We didn’t realize then that this would be our last shared lunch for – how long?

With the schools closed, who else will village idiots (yes, I said “village idiots,” for that is what they are) telephone to make bomb threats?

Did any government agency make plans for comforting the losers whose reason for living is calling in bomb threats? And why not? And do the twits who make bomb threats receive a thousand dollars each for losing their purpose in life for a month or so?

Grocery shopping has become like Forrest Gump’s box of chocolates – you never know what you’re going to get. Spam, which at other times rates only a sneer of disapproval, cannot now be found. A five-pound net bag of potatoes is another rarity, but the other day small bags of new potatoes were available, as well as single-wrapped potatoes for baking. Unlike the Night-of-Zombie-Terror-in-Abandoned-City pictures on the InterGossip the stores I’ve visited are stocked well enough, but you have to be flexible and creative.

If a serious food shortage develops, I propose that we eat the motivational speakers first.

A meme on Gyphy has Oprah Winfrey exclaiming happily, “And YOU get a roll of toilet paper and YOU get a roll of toilet paper and YOU get a roll of toilet paper…!”

A common analogy is that the current crisis is like the Second World War. I am too young to have been in that war, but I’m pretty sure that a spot of bother in finding a roll of toilet paper or a loaf of bread is nothing like the death marches, bombing raids, starving children, or prison camps.

A depressing fact is that everyone seems to be blaming everyone: why didn’t the president have stocks of testing kits in his garage, why did the mayor of Frontage Road, Texas shut down his town, why did the mayor of Trackside, Idaho not shut down his town, why didn’t your cousin the LVN know about the coronavirus ten years ago, why didn’t the governor tell me to stock up on toilet paper last month, why are the borders closed, why aren’t the borders closed, why are there people on the roads, why aren’t there people on the roads, why are the restaurants closed, why aren’t the restaurants closed, why aren’t there enough masks that don’t work anyway except that maybe they do work or maybe they don’t, why are churches closed, why aren’t churches closed, and on and on. Some of the comments on the InterGossip would embarrass Darwin, and Nonna and MawMaw would have something to say about such cruel words.

And, no, billionaires aren’t hoarding respirators.

This virus will end, probably just in time for the hurricanes, but we can get back to our proper jobs and the occasional visit to the coffee shop for the coffee we always say is too expensive but we will drink it anyway and enjoy being with friends again. In the meantime, let us Keep Calm and Carry Out the go-cups.

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Dog Tags Somehow Remain - a virus-free poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Dog Tags Somehow Remain

I didn’t take off my dog tags for a long time
How long? I don’t remember now – but long
It was as if they had always been there:
Name, service number, blood type, religion. Me

All the Navy wanted to know about me
If I were killed up some river somewhere
Some creature having then eaten my eyes
And then more of me, the tags would remain

A beaded chain, dog tags, a crucifix
Hard to let go then, hard to let go now

The Shopping Mall Cancels the Easter Bunny - poem in the virus-time

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

The Shopping Mall Cancels the Easter Bunny

“…cancels Easter Bunny photos amid coronavirus concerns”

From this Lenten season there will not be
A fading photo of a screaming child
Desperate to escape the boozy embrace
Of the shopping mall Easter Bunny (belch)

This low-Prole rite of passage is ended
But not by any parental common sense
About forcing a frightened girl or boy
To pose upon the lap of some strange man

In grubby polyester pretending that he
Is an oryctolagus cuniculus, you see!

Luna Moth - MePhone photograph

Cautions in Abundance - poem in the virus-time

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Cautions in Abundance

From an abundance of caution

Uncharted territory flatten the curve
Abundance of caution the new normal
Self-isolate and hunker down ghost town
Shelter in place COVID-19 bars closed

From an abundance of caution

Coronavirus masks it’s not the ‘flu
Decolonize drive-through testing and stuff
Apocalyptic hand sanitizer
All toilet paper is self-quarantined

From an abundance of caution

A dangerous, adjectives-changing virus
And only buzzy speechlings to inspire us

From an abundance of caution

A Clumsy Sonnet in Praise of a Neighbor's Chainsaw - sonnet and a MePhone photograph

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

A Clumsy Sonnet in Praise of a Neighbor’s Chainsaw

- from an idea suggested by Ingrid

A pine tree fell on Eldon’s bob-wire fence
And I showed up to help in some small way
The branches and needles were thick and dense
The ponies and horses galloped over to play

When Eldon fired up his manly chainsaw
The limbs and needles then shivered in terror
The ponies and horses backed away in awe -
Eldon blitzkrieged that tree, and that’s no error

For when a tree gets crossways of a Stihl
The tensile strength of a woody cell wall
Can never stand against the woodman’s skill -
Down must come branches and needles and all

But the ponies and horses realized too late
They’d have to go back behind the fence and gate!


(I have no connection with the rugged Stihl; I use this effective backyard electric Oregon):

Spiderwort - a well-focused MePhone photograph

Oak Leaves and Oak Pollen Strands - Poorly-Focused MePhone Photograph



An Evening in Lent - virus-free poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

An Evening in Lent

Spring – it’s as if Creation begins again
Pale yellow oak pollen in little strings
From feathering leaves beginning to spread
Floats down the wind as if looking for love

The Annunciation, that quarter-day
With the Angel’s sacred Salutation
Anchors the year with equinoctial hope
Into the future, balancing the past

Dusk – and the clouds are as stones rolled away
By a soft, unseen, inexorable breath

"The Word of the Day is 'Surmount'" - a virus-free poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

“The Word of the Day is ‘Surmount’”

On the Conoco gasoline pump TV
The word of the day for six months has been
“Surmount.” A pen still colors the same light bulb
And floppy-eared dogs still sniff for your drugs

In my rustic simplicity I marvel
That a gas pump has a TV at all
But the content is as repetitive
As the traffic light across from the school

A gasoline TV is a little bit presh
But I simply hope that the fuel is fresh

"Your Health and Safety is Important" - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

“Your Health and Safety is Important”

To all the agencies, organizations, and businesses

who email us

with the same subject – predicate error

Your health and safety is important your
Health and safety is important your health
And safety is important your health and
Safety is important your health and safe-

Ty is important your health and safety
Is important your health and safety is
Important your health and safety is im-
Portant your health and safety is impor-

Tant your health and safety is important –

                                                       They is?

Toilet Paper Supplies are Wiped Out - weekly column in the virus-time

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Toilet Paper Supplies are Wiped Out

“DON’T PANIC!!!!”

-Corporal Jones, Dad’s Army

Toilet paper supplies are wiped out. Oh, yeah, as if no one ever made that joke before.

The other day I was crossing a parking lot when I noted a couple of suspicious characters. They were moving fast, looking around anxiously as if they were expecting an ambush or maybe planning one. And then I noticed the shopping cart top heavy with loads of toilet paper they were rushing to their car.

(Voiceover in a Lorne Greene basso profundo of doom: “It begins.”)

Once upon a time I met a retired Royal Air Force colonel who had been a young officer during the Second World War. Among other topics he mentioned that on the 3rd of August 1939 the coffee disappeared from English life almost as soon as the first sirens stop wailing.

In the USA, it’s the toilet paper.

(Soundover: an air-raid siren.)

No one has ever explained why, in a time of crisis, whether hurricanes, fuel shortages, power outages, street violence, tornadoes, or the several diseases that strike us every decade or so, the immediate response of the American people is to hoard toilet paper.

Sometime you think that if God manifested the end of the world a great many of our people would rush out to buy toilet paper.

Like the annual migrations of motivational speakers, the hoarding of the soft scented stuff is a mystery.

Perhaps many Americans build toilet-paper forts and guard them with their AR-14.2 Nuclear Assault Rifles, ready to fight off wild-eyed albino Russian paratroopers greedy for our Yankee Doodle bottles of freedom-loving hand sanitizer.

That evening I encountered a young woman who reported that she could not find any toilet paper, but happily she has a six-month-old and if her routine supply of the squeezable stuff wipes out she could shred the occasional disposable diaper for the purpose.

Let no one say that the rising generation has no problem-solving skills.

The news reports that some schools will stop classroom instruction for the next week or two, and that lessons will be sent via the InterGossip.

In a spirit of service I would like to contribute a distance-learning arithmetic problem with a real-world application:

If Mommy has 5 rolls of toilet paper in the closet and brings 12 more rolls of toilet paper home from the store, is Daddy still sitting on the couch and drinking (sody pop)?

Y’know, if I get the coronavirus thing and die I’m going to feel just plain silly.

In all seriousness, do what your health care professional (NOT Dr. Google or NP Facebook) says, take all precautions, and as the old wartime poster says, “Keep Calm and Carry On.”

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