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pandemic poems

At the beginning of the pandemic I began writing weekly poems that pulled from the strange new world we were all thrown into. Lines have never come to me so easily. It's a trip to read them over now.

Photo by Jaylan Rhea

Quarantine Poem #1
[April 2020]

Bloody Reminders

Reminders of blood

Like falling into a hole

Of blankets

And comfort in stupid things

Things we used to say

"What is time" and "Now more than ever"

But srsly

Now more than ever

What

Is 

Time

Other than sleeping till noon

cozy socks, a quarantine staple

Quarantine Poem #2

[April 2020]

I'll sit here as long as you will

Said I to the dog

Howling winds

Rocking me back to sleep

Loss

in my bones

At the ready

Pep talks in the morning

Dumb surrender each night

Who's haunting your dreams

In this loveliest cocoon

spring view from lying down on my deck gazing upward

Quarantine Poem #3

[April 2020]

telecommunications

pillow telepathy

astral projection

zooming across

the miles lies apologies

zooming

to the heart of the matter

even if it doesn't matter

not like excuses

more like

how

do

i

use this

zooming

to the point of no return

intuiting

in to it ing

listen to the jaw

ask it the password

open sesame

zoom

wish upon a womb

burrow 

into the marrow

massaging the heart

witness the past

echoing

through these chambers

is this the adaptation

the eleventh toe

the limb that grows

zooming

looming

seeing

seeking

leaking

reaching.

reaching.

go ahead

don't be afraid

just

smell me

working on a painting in my kitchen studio

Quarantine Poem #5

[May 2020]

with all the hours to spill over texts

to study all the histories

what is it about this portal

that so distorts the record

staring wide eyed into the past

much like the corona

only fragments and blinds

is truth as meaningless as time

needing you to be wrong

so i can be alright

looking for evidence

in the floorboards of my mind

black mirror of my dreams

i wake teeth clenched

sheets drenched in sweat

afraid of who i've seen

when i tell this story years from now

which genre will i choose

a memoir that nobody reads

a thriller where nobody screams

what if i'm the antagonist 

damned

boxed into that corner

by my own tragic flaw

a soft look in the mirror

Quarantine Poem #6

[May 2020]

sweet sunday

of not quite mothers

we family all the same

mask on mask off

the wax and wane

sweet release of pain

smell the honeysuckle

fill those precious lungs

see the shadows

undulating to sum'n new

feel freedom 

in the non-essential

forget the shoutouts

invisibility is 

a superpower too

stick and poke by ade

Quarantine Poem #7

[May 2020]

so let me ask within

what are you (re)opening

that heart whose depths

could never be reached

with mountains valleys

twists and turns and peaks

curves

never to be flattened

by the river of tears

cynicism of years

a sign out front reads

open for business

in fact we're thriving

where are we

in relation to the end

nowhere near

Olive

untitled no. 1

[February 2021]

nature acknowledged me today

my wisest most forgiving friend

me, tightly clenching dreams

my shaken loving heart

my sense of humor in the face of it all

god dammit

but mostly

our collective pain

and she held me

all warmth and rustling leaves

that breeze

whispering gently

i know

stoned sun bathing

untitled no. 2

[March 2021]

i've been in love so many times

i don't even know what it means anymore

or maybe it's the only definition i know

and anything short just baffles me

maybe it's the sea i swam

before washing up on this desert

maybe i used my chances

sucked it bone dry

fucked the life out of it

returned to the ticket booth one too many times

like a careless child

testing the limits of her delicate tummy

maybe love no longer runs hot through my veins

but sits like plaque in my arteries

maybe i'm old

maybe i'm cold

maybe i'm dead

oh love

i'm so not fucking done with you

pretty flowers outside a  green grocery store in the outer banks

purple

[October 2021]

did you leave a message

as i hurtled through

vaccilations

of panic and sublime

towards you

or not

just stay

i'll attempt to strangle

my disbelief

a year of free falls

fear gripped sleep

and hope seed wakes

looking for a seat with you

IMG_8384_Original.heic

Photo by Wilson

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