Looking Up   Locking Down

When is a lockdown not a lockdown?
When is a pandemic running its course?
Looking up, I see beautiful days, sunshine and flowers,
Clouds nowhere to seen in clear blue sky
But the warm soft air is full of danger.

So too, we are told, is being less than two metres
From a stranger.
No pleasant smiles or Good Mornings -
We cross the road, step into stranger’s driveways
Anything to avoid closing the gap,
getting too close to a fellow human.

I am dehumanized. Unhappy at the fear people have
At the sight of me
And the fear my children and grandchildren have
At the thought of a visit, which once brought joy
With (now forbidden) hugs.

Not long now say the country’s masters
Soon we’ll unlock the lock
But will we ever again feel trust and ease
In our restored freedoms?
How strange to hug and smile a greeting
When its been so long since our last meeting.

AEB April 2020

Funny how soon normal creeps up on us                  
and clears away the strangeness
with each sweep of the broom.  
                    
The sky looks the same as it did,
we walk, side by side, as we did.
And the death toll mounts, the police checks grow

We can measure metres without a rule
(though we did feet and inches when at school)
We learn to use Whatsapp and Skype,
 just to see our families’ faces.
 then we disinfect our phones, wipe away the traces.

We’re told to wash our hands for twenty secs
and obedience – unnatural – is what the world expects.
Strangers shop for strangers and an obedient population
applauds an institution on demand, at a given time

Then we go back into our houses
close the windows, lockdown the doors
consider the unseen enemy, and, once again,

                          mop the floors.

It slinks
Around the edges
Of my
Intention
As I flow
And pause
And flow,
A version of
The Questions
Without
Answer,
Asking me
To prove
That
I am.

I hear you
Moving
Behind
Me
And before
Me
And I hear
A bit
Of me
Say no
To what
It feels like
To love you
Right now,
So I turn
To that bit
And lean
Into all
It is
Until
It is
All
There is
And without
Bits
It’s only
The love.

I approach
My mat
Weary
And wary
Of what
I
Have
To offer
From
Beneath
The grip
Of pain,
And pain
About pain,
And about
That,
Too.
But the rhythm
Is easy
To track
To warmth
That melts
The intention
Between layers,
Between knower
And known,
Seer and seen,
And then,
Suddenly,
Between now
And now
And now.
And when  
After arrives
(And me
With it),
I notice
What’s
Been offered
And relish
The relief.

I circle
‘Round
Bends
That live
In my body
Even
When
We
Are
Still,
And look
Past
The path
I carry
With me
To the ask
I’ve not
Heard
Clearly
(Ever,
Or for some time).
And I
Take
The hand
I know
As mine,
And step
Into
The light.

The fortress that which is your mind
May find not such turmoil as harsh
And instead might as well, rejoice
The shackles which at present bind
Or may be, but it shall doth budge
The resolve of its castles strong
And surely not, it shall not smudge
Ordeal undertook by genial souls
What may be, will have then begun
Fear not, have faith on the virtuous
Path; Think not, what if but of the
Good, that has_ and in time you will
Clearly see; mental tenacity will be
Yours, decreed; Have just clear head
Upon thy broadsword. Nothing else
Will have; or will ever matter more !

sufficiently scrubbing
simple soap
strips stealthy virus’s
slick, lipid skin—
surfactants sending
sabotaged virus
slip sliding sewer bound!



© 2020 Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.

I rise
And lift
And feel
The tug
Of Earth
On the flesh
I call mine,
And the tug
Of love
On the songs
I call mind.
And my smile
And I
Tug back
Before settling
Into one
Or none
Right now.