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Lawrence Hall Mar 2022
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                      The Russia Project

I will give up my copy of The Brothers Karamazov
When they pry it from my cold, dead hands
I am not pouring anything down the drain.
Lawrence Hall May 2017
The Fifth Karamazov

When young we identify with Alyosha
His optimism and his innocence
His fragile, flowering Orthodox1 faith
A happy, almost-holy fool for Christ

When older, the sensual Dimitri,
With irresponsible lusts and desires
Grasping for the rewards of the moment
Now, ever now, wanting everything now

Then older still, as intellectual Ivan
Sneeringly aloft, above all faith and flesh
A constructor of systems and ideas
From the back pages of French magazines

Though never do we identify with
Nest-fouling, leering, lurking Smerdyakov
Our secret fear, unspoken fear, death-fear:
That he might be who we untruly are

But hear, O hear, the holy bells of Optina2
Those Russian messengers3 singing to us
Inviting us to meet Alyosha again
At Father Zosima’s poor4 hermitage


1Russian Orthodox
2The name of the real monastery upon which Dostoyevsky modeled his fictional one
3The Brothers Karamazov was first published as a serial in The Russian Messenger
4Poor only by earthly standards
Another adventure begins
On a day to remember
On the 11th hour of the 11th day
Of the 11th month in 1918
WWI ended
But the war continues
Between the material and spiritual
The Grand Inquisitor in all of us
(Dostoevsky)
Tries to encapsulate the formless

We're all searching for the magic pill
Red or blue
What would you choose?
Fortunately, there is no choice
You become who you are eventually
It just depends how many lives
It takes for a full realization
Of this reality

A spiritual warrior is always in transition
I'm spending the next few weeks traveling from
Portland to Los Angeles
Maybe on to Peru from there
I plan on writing in realtime
In spacetime, I'll be riffing
Suggestions of where to explore are appreciated
That would put a big smile on my face

I told my Cree friend of this journey
She laughed and called me Thotin
Thotin is wind; wind in all forms
I told her I identified with water
She nixed that:
'water is too predictable, wind is just ****** nuts'
We lol'd

I guess the wind is blowing west
:)

— The End —