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Thomas W Case Jul 2022
I'm fermenting in
isolation.
Covid 19 for the third
time this year.
After a skyrocket of a
writing streak,
I've had a two month
dry spell.
I'm sure the dope and
***** didn't help.

Hell smells like
loneliness and
white paper.
It tastes like
sulfur and burnt toast.
I see ghosts around
every corner, and they
sound like bats,
screeching at the
black night.

I'm in treatment,
and I will spend five
days in my room.
They will bring my
meds and meals.
They also gave me
a tablet and said,
I can watch all the
Net Flix that I want.

****!
To write or to watch
the idiot box.
That is the dilemma.
I sure hope that
this
febrile state that I am
in produces some
good writing material.
Pun intended
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VDs9dUjQz58
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
One Andean Sky Aug 2021
At first, a tremor beneath the souls of my feet
Blink, a story millions of heartbeats away
Dark clouds over a field as acidic purge falls over us
Venomous mist seeps, humanity weeps
Blink, 18 stars bent and watching
Emitting rays pointing their random strikes

Blink, glorious earth temperate in her rotation
Marble folds on her maternal veil drapes us
Close to her breast, we heave in time with each breath
Blink, sustaining life in the chambers of her deepest ocean
Breathing air across the tall granite mountains
Distressed, and yet still here

Blink, ancient footprints track our journey
Not what we envisioned but “the enlightened ones” foresaw.
The need for understanding,
The need to cause conflict and agitate,
Blink, the need to protect,
The need to heal and mend.

Blink, you are here now, in your full extravagance
Delighting in fracking and disruption
Sleight of hand, our blindness is your reward
Blink, remorseless as you divide us
Along the fault line, we fall

Blink, with loved ones snatched
We turn on one another tossing
Handfuls of poison into the wind
Blink, triggered fingers pointed
Volcanic anger flares
A fist on a horses face
Lawlessness a momentary lapse

Blink, where will you strike next?
We suppress you
We support you
Following the artificial sun through the cracks
You rise again
As we turn on one another
The elusive phantom, a master chameleon
Spawning and stretching into an unknown vastness

Blink, yes, you are here to stay
You can’t be killed
You can’t be destroyed
Blink, neither can we
You will be tamed into submission
You will be a mere quiver beneath the souls of my feet
Blink, vitals diminish and you crawl away
Powerless and a mere symptom as you look out from a rock
Eye blinking.
Covid 19. Delta Variant. Sydney, Australia. Freedom Rally Riot 2021
George Krokos Dec 2020
The second wave seems to have hit harder than the first
by taking advantage of all those who ignored its thirst;
in the initial stages when it manifested and began to rise
leaving behind a trail of corpses catching all by surprise.
_____
This is about Covid-19 in my home state of Victoria, Australia and particularly in Melbourne where people (mostly older)  were dying off like flies but nothing like what's  been happening elsewhere around the world until we went into strict lock down for 3-4 months which turned things around. May God help us all.
They surveyed my every mood
They established surveillance
Harshly punished defiance
Had me locked up, well, for good

They forged ideas in my mind
Had me believe I was blind
Shaped me into a pariah
Repeated they were the Messiah

Repeated for hours on end
A virus had plagued the cell
To this litany without end
No one was safe, they could tell

Words echoed into my room
We were either set for doom
Or grateful to be rescued
By their remedy, they cooed

My every step was measured
Some rebelled, they were injured
One mile is all we had left
To run and not go bereft

While the media explained
The pandemic knew no end
They monitored our thinking
A ceaseless, clueless talking

If you believed me to be
Some prisoner in a facility
Well, I am very sorry
I am just, like you and me,

A human being in 2020...

11:23-11:40 pm
Nancy
The idea of this poem came this morning from thinking about our situation during Covid 19, depicting it like a prisoner’s new habits.
I will not state my views on this nor say whether or not I support the mainstream views. Poetry is all about creating a space for thinking and awakening.
Hussein Dekmak Oct 2020
My favorite music is the tune that I hear playing off at the hospital, when a COVID 19 patient is off the ventilator!

This music is:
A song of a new dawn,
A journey to the future,
A melody of new life,
A symphony of hope, and
The rebirth of the universe!

Hussein Dekmak
Kudos to all of the healthcare workers who are risking their lives to save one life at a time! Edited.
Shrika Aug 2020
For months,

I've been wandering,
through winding
silences

hoping
I'd find your chaos
one day.
Speak...
#19
POETIST Aug 2020
I hear a name,
it is called covid 19.
i think it was boring,
but i hadnt seen the covid roaring.
after a month i saw it,
that when we realised we had split.
We can fight it,
or it will hit.
let us be one,
as the pandemic has begun.
dont be scared,
because we are prepared.
one for another,
because we are alltogather.
we have fought this before!
as we can again restore,
dont forget to be far from each,
because i dont have a speech,
or it will reach you,
let us not fight it like an issue.

lets be one!
We dont need to fight. lets be one and fight this pandemic yes and #covid-19willgo
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