Long Quarantine Poems
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Late one night walking in rain-hit New York,
Full moon kept watch as I measured my way,
shops shut, such silence unknown to city,
world in grip of scary virus menace,
my ears were pricked to every eerie sound,
They told me of the psycho cat’s demise,
encounter kill with predator unknown,
my stiletto shoes break peace with their clicks,
soft prattle of foot steps behind me like,
Eerie boardwalk creaks near the white sand beach,
Slowly I turn to confront my stalkers,
million eyes glitter in darkness of street,
dark brown hairy, big street rats of New York,
gnarl fierce as perhaps gnarled at psycho cat,
they ripped enemy to end his tale!
I knew the danger that I was faced with,
I reached into leather bag for weapons,
with prayer and courage I could summon,
lit my lighter and filled my mouth with wine,
blew a fountain, sprayed them shouting you swine!!!!!!!
Screaming and spraying the burning spirit,
mean rascals ran like they confronted devil,
So I escaped from almost certain death
thanks to cheap drink I carried in my bag,
The label I hide on the wine bottle,
inflammable mixture not fit to drink!
Suddenly screaming I wake up in bed,
sobbing next to my dear concerned husband,
have had enough of dreary pandemic,
this mask, isolation and long late walks,
if away for few months all should be fine,
Sabbatical dreams after quarantine!
Written 8/October/2020
‘Collaborate with me poetry’ contest
Sponsor Kim Rodrigues
in bold lines Kim’s lines
10 syllables per line
Beneath your dress is a castle where all men wish to enter,
I'm more than just a tourist who'll spark up your stairs with golden tiles
and cover its floors with smooth terrazzo.
The erotic barriers of your colourful underwear steam up curiosity when pulled out.
Our hunger seem isolated but releases burning instincts out of a long quarantine
as mood steadily transit into the private zone like melting butter.
My sexual craft, so bad for goodness to envy
will develop a hundred senses for yearnings to gradually diffuse round.
We will ride like a ship without Anchor and a vehicle without brake
yet, never directionless
then both souls will gum into one
as they maneuver through a tight corridor with lips on lips.
Love is made so powerful from this wonderful art
which stains an entire ocean red,
time explodes from the flames coming from two sources,
as flesh meets flesh to form the highest faculty of pleasure.
Back to Belfast
I have been to the Ghetto thrice
To Auschwitz twice
And to Belfast once
And to tell the truth
Belfast is the winner of the weirdest places
Where I’ve ever been
But to be fair
That was just before Good Friday-
The peak of the peace process
Deserted streets
Walls dividing roads
Flags aggressively hanging from windows
Emblems that define their owners’ sympathy
Plain buildings bedecked by racist graffiti
It made me think of a European inter-war capital
Berlin or Rome in the era of dictators
Sectarian genocide was lurking there
But no blackshirts visible to give it an edge
My country, my people
What have you done?
How could you do this?
Answer me!
I’ve had my share of tight corners
But I can safely say
No place ever made me feel so uneasy
As Belfast on that day
Until now
Now when I’ve returned
Back there
Back to Belfast
Deserted streets
Fences blocking movement
Face masks preventing and protecting against infection
Emblems that define the struggle for survival
Health signs that warn us how to avoid death
Death at the hands of the virus
Homicide, infanticide, genocide-
This time there’s no special target
The enemy is everybody
With the infection
Now the blackshirts are on the road
Patrolling a deserted dyke
On the outskirts of Warsaw
Soldiers, policemen, imposing regulations
All doing their duty, all plainly seen
But the enemy is invisible
The victims in isolation
Their families in quarantine
The rest of us waiting
For the lurking virus to strike again
If we stay at home-
With shops and cafes
Parks and cinemas closed-
Are we safe?
If I daub the door of my house
With the blood of Lombards
Will I escape this Shoah?
For how long will this go on?
How many more deaths
Before the required quota?
My God, my God
What have we done?
How have we offended you?
Answer me!
IT SUCKS
Social distancing the horrific curse.
Covid two thousand ninety-nine
bringing off and on quarantine.
Desolation - isolation entwined
It sucks.
Social bond turning adverse.
Strict restriction on lock down
In vain hope for hasty count down
Humans turning selfish or clown.
It sucks.
Home confinement to embarrass.
Socio -economy surreal
Enthusiasm, on burial.
Life practical, actions virtual
It sucks.
Global progress gets worse.
Innocent public on isolation
No permanent solution
Sinking in abyss of depression
It sucks.
When covid patient suffers
If hostile be neighbors
Hospitals do not favor
Patient not cared! To die! Whatever
It sucks.
08/13/20
'It Sucks' Contest by Kai Michael Neumann
Update
I am suddenly very sick with fever , freezing, burning up, headache, nausea
Truth in New Hampshire:
I spoke with 4 medical personnel today on phone.
They have no testing, only for medical personnel and severe cases in the hospital.
And. They have no treatment. They told me only to go to the hospital if I cannot breathe, for a ventilator.
They ordered me to stay home in quarantine away from all people and even medical personnel.
With all my underlying medical issues over the years, I have not had fevers, or anything like this. !
I will write when I can, but if I am not posting or answering, this is why.
Please be safe and take this seriously.
Thank you all
cat man had enough forced isolation
sabbatical dreams after quarantine
entered his hermit cage in seclusion
I need time out from lockdown he promised
they told me of the psycho cat’s demise
but cats have nine lives so I can spend one
and I may use it on my free accord
face my own mask and fearless persona
fantasize about chosen solitude
beat the rat race and feline adventure
the label I hide on the wine bottle
is a wise decal of aspirations
decanting the truth into fine crystal
bodes a farewell from forced captivity
while I look at the ceiling of limits
eerie floorboard creaks near the white sand beach
sanded pine wood pining for ocean’s roar
no more footprints I can walk on my hands
balance harmony and despair for good
when he woke up deluded in night sweat
pyjama purring and soaked wet with delight
claws clenched around fistfuls of withdrawal
clattering teeth grinding out last resolve
he took a swig from his wild genie’s flask
rolled a stone in front of his caveats
crept deep into his cave and growled
untamed will had been abandoned for good
and he dwelled in emotions and chuckled
social distance is not bad after all
I just don’t want to be told what to do
it’s in my genes I’m made for concealment
contagion won’t harm be for I’m myself
26th September 2020
Collaborate With Me contest
Sponsor Kim Rodrigues
Truth be told said topic minimally embellished
rather, prattling youthful looking
baby booming geezer
precious time (yours), he doth bilk
(cue sinister mock-up halloween voice)
moost valuable intangible
outstripping fine spun golden silk,
yet coronavirus (COVID-19) quarantine
drives dingbat to whole new level
wits end where sonar helps sound out his ilk.
Think me swallowing, gulping, and asphyxiating
essential experiencing ill humor versus zest
suddenly impossible mission life and death quest
in short oxygen with air supply
depleted blame climate change
analogous to getting trachea
severely pelted, pinched, pressed
nevertheless, I limber twigs to build a nest
simultaneously (choking, gagging, and laughing)
appeasing the impractical joker within/without
lame impersonation suave debonair beau geste
and pardon following hyperbole expressed.
More onerous (ha) to parish priests
tendering, regarding and administering last rites
aforementioned "fake" dead serious claim,
one little known prevaricator doth attest
(nip pulling excess milk of human kindness)
faux (pas and mine late ma)
gaming altruism confessed
dirty deeds done dirt cheap
hypothetically earning devout resuscitator
invoking divine intervention
upon impious hackneyed poetaster brownie points.
Now fur heal, aye really gotta
get get something off me chest
flagrant exaggerated golden opportunity analogous,
videre licet his achievements or service to country
As I awoke to a brand-new day
I asked Him to direct my path
To protect and guide, lest I should fall
And keep me free, from grief and wrath
In haste, I departed on an errand
Forgot - if I, had locked the door
Returned and found that all was well
Now,- to that sale, at the discount store
About a mile down the interstate
"One Lane Closed," the sign read
A mass of crumpled steel I saw
I, - could have been, there instead
The sale now ended, when I arrived
"They're all gone", the clerk advised
For that item, I had waited long
Now, I would have to improvise
I heard an old friend was confined
At a rest-home, in the next town
A call revealed, a quarantine imposed
I'd have to wait, before driving down
I had tried to do what I thought best
But obstacles altered what I chose
As I analyzed events of the day
The picture I, began to compose
Watching the evening news, I learned
An interstate accident, with one dead
And a recall on the item, I had sought
Injuries had occurred, - the reporter said
So, - back to that morning prayer -
Did He supply my wants, - - or needs ?
Consolation I found, "alone" - with Him
As I read, - Jeremiah, ten: twenty three
Colan L Hiatt = 02-24-13
© All Rights Reserved
QUARANTINE
Corona Virus Covid- Nineteen
demanding quarantine
of mass populace
no less but to face
stagnant standstill static state
all over the State.
Virulent virus
menacing infectious.
Scary spectral
may be fatal.
Source or origin still unknown.
Rigorous research going on,
to invent medicine
or a genuine vaccine!
Compulsive confinement.
Helpless imprisonment.
Social desolation
bringing frustration.
Whatever however
My fervent fervor
to end Lock down.
Me, on counting down.
04/06/20
Second Place
'Quarantine Poems' Contest by Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Spongy brown fingers quenched by gentle tide
Eerie boardwalk creaks near the white sandy beach*
Lapping crystal mix of silt risen rush
Injects me with lovely imaginings
Purrballs scooping milk with ridgy cupped tongues
I'm zebra confined, house stripes shade on sun
Pallet paradise by the pier, free rent
Fat foot kids trample, rudimentary rods
Raised to find fish among pungent mangroves
The label I hide on my wine bottle*
Some ask can they come into my cubby
I wander off, tell them sure, it's all yours
Kids are too big, - I like them less than cats
They told me of the psycho cat's demise*
Psychotic in my absence, poor purrballs
A busy home befitted me, writhing
With action, scratching, litters, loud implores
Wrapped leg tailed affection restored meaning
Virus had no impact, purr friend Kingdom
Council had no business disrupting us
Sabbatical dreams after quarantine*
Let me sit again amongst my purrballs
Families leave with their buckets fishless
Within woody walls, water tint glass green
I lay blanketed by fish fattened cats
Piled purposefully, though haphazardly
On rocking vessel built of curved pallets
Bobbing on mangrove mazes burgeoning
With seafood delights no can can contain
Vino voyages bring my purrballs back
6th September
Collaboration Poetry Contest
Sponsor : Kim Rodrigues
I own only a phone, with no font change
capacity, may edit to bold if I get to a PC.
* end of lines marks the prompts given.