Only joking! As if.... Well now, Deja Vu. What an appropriate theme during this extended period of semi-lockdown and social distancing. However, believe it or not these topics were all chosen way back in December before we had even the merest hint of what was coming our way in 2020! Them's the breaks - and next week (spoiler alert) it's 'Silence'. Hold the excitement.
I get the impression that since the prescriptive curbs on our activities were brought in nearly three weeks ago, millions of us are doing pretty much the same thing day after day with only the subtlest of variations - that goes for everybody from key workers to home workers to the self-isolating. Get up, do A then B then C then D then sleep and repeat. Some of us, if we're lucky, have more than one room to do it in.
Occasionally I feel sorry for people without internet capability. They haven't had The Marvellous Mrs Maisel (series 1,2,3) to keep them amused - but then I also think they're not really missing what they never had and perhaps being off-grid is the sanest way with so much fake news and sheer trivia bouncing around the bandwidth.
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| A room with a view of a room with a view of a room with a view et cetera... |
And the people stayed home
And read books and listened
And rested and exercised
And made art and played games
And learned new ways of being
And were still and listened more deeply... etc
which I've seen being described as a poem dating from an earlier pandemic (Spanish flu, 1918-20), written by the Irish poet Kathleen O'Meara, the striking feature being its powerful sense of deja vu.
The fact that O'Meara died in 1888 (thirty years before Spanish flu) ought to set alarm bells ringing! The work in fact appears to belong to a retired American teacher - also called Kitty O' Meara - but it was written just a couple of weeks ago. Thanks, fake news! That's deja vu out the window then...
...except that the American lady's poem bears an interesting similarity to one written just weeks earlier at the beginning of March by an Italian writer, Irene Vella. Vella's poem is far more detailed and there is a suggestion that O'Meara may have translated and plagiarised a précis of the Italian's original. I've no idea. If one is being charitable, one may say that it's just a curious but not necessarily surprising coincidence, that the impact of Covid-19 has somehow evoked strikingly similar poetic creations from multiple pens on different continents - almost like a universal response.
One thing you can be sure of is that there is no plagiarism involved in my latest. It's totally unrelated to theme, and I did Covid-19 last week. This, therefore, is just a piece of Easter Saturday silliness. In my own mind, I rank all my poems - League One, League Two, Three, Four if you wish - and this is definitely League Four...but maybe hoping to make the play-offs. Like I said, it's just a bit of fun - and we could all do with some of that right now.
Press Conference
Hard upon his sensational return from elsewhere,
when asked if he had any impressions to share
from those long years of intrepid traversal,
the explorer answered reporters thus:
"If there's one abiding lesson I've learned
from my sojourn among the Litotes,
(a most self-deprecating race, by the by)
it's the importance of doing your own irony."
Bemusement reigned. The odd flash-bulb popped,
short-hand was scrawled and brows furrowed
as the assembled corps trawled their pun stores
in search of a leader to caption their copy.
The best of the crop, before it became chip wrap,
simply read, dead pan: Homecoming falls flat.
Thanks for reading. Stay isolate, S;-)
17 comments:
You can check out any time you like but you can never leave... :-@
I've easily and effortlessly stepped into a new, laid-back routine - routine is the key for me. I love it so much, I want to keep most of it when things go back to normal. I wish I lived closer to the prom, I'd like to see the sea. Hopefully, I soon will. Great blog and poem 🙂
Very funny poem (once I'd looked up Litotes)!
Interesting and well-written. Thank you.
I mis-read one of your lines as 'a most self-medicating race' - just shows what a mess lockdown is making of me (LOL). I've seen the Kitty O'Meara poem all over social media but not the Italian one.
Here is translated the Italian poem.
It was March 11th, 2020
the streets were wmpty
the shops were closed
and the people were no longer oitside
but the Spring knew nothing about it.
And so the flowers continued to bloom
and the sun still shined
and the swallows returned
and the sky hinted a pink and blue colour.
In the morning, the bread was being kneaded,
and the donuts were being baked.
It was getting darker later at night
and early morning the sun rays shined
through half-open windows.
It was March 11th, 2020;
the students studied remotely
and the afternoons were filled
with card games and chitchat,
2020 was the year when you could only
go out for groceries and emergency shopping.
After a while, everything closed down,
the offices too;
The army began to guard circulation and borders,
hospitals had reached capacity
and people got even sicker.
But Spring didn't know about it and so it sprung.
It was March 11th, 2020; everyone was placed
in mandatory quarantine,
grandparents, adults and young people,
entire families.
That is when the fear became real
and the days all looked alike.
But Springdidn't know, and the roses kept blooming.
Meanwhile, we rediscovered the joys
of eating together,
of letting imagination free,
of travelling while reading a book.
Some took time to learn a new language,
students passed last exams and got ready
for their finl thesis.
People began again to understand that they loved life,
some stopped coming to terms with ignorance,
and then there are the people
who closed their offices
and opened a tavern with ony eight seats.
Irene Vella
Thanks for posting the poem Francesca :-)
A pleasure to read as always. Your poem made me smile and I love the line 'The best of the crop, before it became chip wrap'. There's nostalgia for you :)
So true, A then B then C then D then sleep and repeat - always assuming that two of those are eat, which we seem to be doing more of recently!
Thank you Steve. As one of those who don't have much more than a single room to do their daily A-B-C-D in (my 5th floor flat has bedroom, kitchen/diner and bathroom), I certainly appreciate that people are aware of our world-closed-in. If I wasn't able to get out for an hour each day I think I should go mad! Your poem, by the way, is much better than you give it credit for. I enjoyed it.
I don't really understand your poem pal. When can we have our football back?
So you're a fan of Mrs Maisel? I'm cool with that! I'm planning to live stream some music from the band soon - will email you the details. Hope all still OK in your jewel of the north. Good vibes...
Isn't there a poem (John Donne?) about the whole world contracted to a single room? I love reading your blogs and the latest poem made me smile. Very clever. I hope you're staying well. :)
Thanks Steve. I like your phrase 'sheer trivia bouncing around the bandwidth' - must be a poem in there somewhere about the information overload (and so much of it trite or misleading). Keep blogging, stay safe.
Very interesting to read about the various versions of the Pandemic poem. I guess it's inevitable and natural, as you say, that responses will find similar images to lock on to.
It does feel as though we're all in danger of disappearing into rooms within rooms. Oh to be off on an exploration now, even if I did end up among the Litotes. :)
Interesting to read Irene Vella's poem. I suppose it will have sounded more poetic in Italian?
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