HALLELUJAH!
The Lord is Risen.
Peace be with you.
Hallelujah!
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I really pray you are still hopeful, and feeling alive, at this time of Easter, my dear readers.
These are really very trying times we are living in.
On the day I went to the grocery store last week, after I have disinfected and started cooking what little I bought, came the news on TV that the grocery workers are now the new population dying from Covid-19.
I wanted to ask, Who’s next?
But I also wanted to let the thought sink in first.
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I must confess a little depression.
I am not totally uninspired, but my writing is.
I’m feeling lazy.
A lot of ideas are on my mind.
But mostly dark, grim thoughts.
I’m afraid I’m becoming cynical.
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I am not trusting any news from China at this time.
I am wary of all government statements.
I cannot celebrate news of recoveries, because I also hear cases of repeat infections.
I am not impressed by celebrity donations, and fund drives.
I’m not even excited by the government financial stimulus and amelioration.
I have grown to be a doubting Thomas.
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A few weeks back, I have suggested to my social media followers to record their experience of this pandemic.
Some have responded by writing poetry.
Still, I’m lazy to write my own verses.
But occasionally, darker ideas drive me to write.
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I am not demanding Panay News to change my column layout to accommodate the shape of my poem.
(I am trying not to demand anything from anyone at this time of crisis.)
If you want to see the ideal layout of the poem, you can check out my Facebook and Instagram posts.
For now, I just want you to notice the initial letter of each line (separated here by asterisk).
It’s my argument that free verse has rhythm, or pattern.
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LITTLE MAN TALK
by Peter Solis Nery
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In times of tragedy
I look for someone to blame, always.
—The PSN
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In the paralyzing weeks of
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Indiscriminate deaths
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In record tens of thousands, and hundred thousands more
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Infected, or
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In hospitals and ventilators, and millions more
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In community and home quarantine
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I ask myself what
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I could have done to prevent this pandemic, and
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I, little man that I am, finding nothing
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Imagine the filthy rich, the powerful few—leaders and politicians, billionaires and scientists, soothsayers and visionaries, celebrities and royalties, what
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In heaven’s name could they have done to prevent this, to prepare for plagues of this magnitude during our time of peace and plenty. Sure, they are not gods, true, but they playact like God even
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In the midst of these deaths (Look at them, hear them on TV!)
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I shudder
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Imagining them
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Imagining us
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Inquiring
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In hell. (500tinaga@gmail.com/PN)
