pigeon coo’s echo outside the window
relentless repetition please stop,
grey skies, lacklustre rain
drip drop drips from the sky
like a tap not turned tight
enough

the kettle is screaming at me
fogs up the window
desperate, don’t look out there,
the forbidden fruit, sacred outdoors
sterilised sanitised inside, free me,
I long to ***** my feet

how can the world keep on turning
when we are all so still
does the passing of time matter
during this vast nothingness?

a cup of tea to calm my nerves
hot liquid chases down the fear
bubbling up in my throat but
it just crawls back, and settles
so quiet becomes the house
eternally occupied, no respite

heavier now, thankful for the sound
drowning out the silence, rain
like the white noise, grateful
the sound of breath has become
too much, all of us in mute,
in sound, in colour, in all

When my kid asks me:
Mama, where were you when the coronavirus pandemic hit?

Well, sweet child, mama was out there exploring the world. I climbed mountains, sailed seas, and fought pirates. Mama was a warrior. She was a healer. She was something else. Mama was making history.

Really, Mama?

No, baby.

I stayed inside trying to finish schoolwork. I put together every puzzle at least 3 times. I ate the same meal twice a week. Baby, mama was robbed. Mama never saw her friends, mama never went to prom, mama never fought a pirate.

Was that all, mama?

No, love.

People died. Too many people, too many people died. We were too stupid, we were too busy, we were ignorant, love. We were destructive, we were killers of our own kind. We were monsters, love.

But, sweetheart...

Yes, mama?

There was beauty in it. Such beauty. We died so the world could live. Flowers bloomed, fish swam, and nature thrived. We could feel the sunshine, we could feel the rain, we could hear the birds, sweetheart. It was beautiful.

Weren’t you scared, mama?
Weren’t you lonely?

My child, yes, I was once. I was scared and I was lonely, but I learned something, my child. In fear, nothing grows. In isolation, there is solitude. But In hope, we flourish. In solitude, we find peace.

My child, my sweet child, we were just beginning to awaken.
Now, we’ll never sleep again.

People are expected to view & treat this pandemic times as the NEW NORMAL while keeping in place OLD NORMAL ROUTINE, especially in terms of academic & professional responsibilities.
With new normal has come HARDLY ANY REVISIONS in responsibilities, demands & requirements to live or merely survive. NOT MUCH has slowed down, relaxed or waived off.
Lifestyle has incurred UNPRECEDENTED CHANGES while life is EXPECTED to go on the OLD NORMAL WAY.
Being rooted or let’s say TIED DOWN to one single place, people are expected to MANAGE ALL ASPECTS of their life WHILE also COPING with the mental TRUAMA this pandemic has brought upon all of us.
So much has changed & Coping with this pandemic is a FORMIDABLE TASK by itself and as if nothing has changed, people are expecting & are expected to DO IT ALL.

I wonder if this is the NEW INHUMANE.

I find
My
Self
Settling
Into the place
And time
I call
Here
And
Now,
And let go
Of the job
Of doing
The
Calling,
Just
In Time
To pick it up
Again.

No flimsy mask but witnessing faith
Not mere belief but transcendental knowledge
Strong and unwavering not double minded
Bright light shining not cowering in fear
And the dead and dying revealed as weak

But as the wise knows he's a fool
You are strong for you're weak
Truth's a double-edged sword
Separating the living from the dead
And loud boastful liars from those chosen

this is what it’s come to
my wife is at college upstairs
sitting on the bed
with sixteen other people
virtually on her laptop
my daughter late for her lesson
at college
without the excuse of
missed buses or traffic
she got stuck in the kitchen
talking to her boyfriend
on WhatsApp
I’ve booked an appointment
at the doctors
on zoom to diagnose
a worrying mole
that’s giving me grief
and I might facetime my dad later
the only time I see him
for real nowadays
virtual love
virtual hugs
how do you date in a pandemic
I wonder
looking for someone to share
the end of days with

They say; but who are they, that say,
That cloth is my armor
It shields me from the unknown and unknowing
It hides my nose and mouth but doesn’t hide my shame
I am unrecognizable, unnatural, and anonymous
I lose my unwillingness to protest my anonymity on the ignorant
I have waited a thousand lifetimes to hide in the open
To see and not be seen
To breathe the stale air of my breath
And exhale the poisonous gas that would otherwise be words
Lost are those with false entitlements seeking to resurrect past ailments
Pity me and madness, they say
They are to whip up a storm; a gale
Phones at the ready, for another star, will explode
A supernova at the entrance of Walmart
They dim before the Sunsets
They turn into a Black Hole and Donut Holes then,
*** holes.