Day: August 18, 2020

Oh Virus

We’re solitary,sad, confined by fear
Of death, of intubation, loss of breath
The Virus is the ruler bringing tears

No escape to the Garden for the beer
Instead we’re mulling over our own death
We’re solitary, sad, confined by fear

The lack of freedom is now far more than clear
We live in groups,we’re all subject to wrath
The Virus is the ruler, makes us weird

We cannot kiss the ones we feel most dear
Especially if we have a hard,dry cough
We’re solitary, down. confined by fear

The heart may burn, the heat will kill or sear
Few folks now are seen to smile or laugh
The Virus is a Terror bringing tears

Tell the Terror firmly to be off
Suck a sweet and that will clear your cough
We’re solitary,low, confined by fear
But still we love the ones that are so dear


Heart

A meta- poet who writes about the art
Who wonders if we need a special gift
A better poet who writes from their deep heart

A problem is the first line where we start
Do not try to make that writing swift
A meta- poet who writes about the art

In my mind the little fishes dart
I try to focus on the ones bereft
A better poet who writes from their own heart

In live writing there’s no graph or chart
No wondering whether we go right or left
A meta- poet who writes about the art

There’s little to be gained by being smart
We need slowness though we must be deft
A better poet who writes from their own heart

Slowly we combine the warp and weft
The sentences of God are hard to match
A meta- poet who writes about the art
A better poet, a universal heart

Conversations warm

We do not want to feel

Emotions can be difficult to bear
But maybe they bring something we should hear
A message or a wound we have ignored
Action’s needed or we are destroyed

Being happy always is unreal
Living in compartments now concealed
If you cannot bear your pain alone
Seek for conversations that will warm

Loving neighbours comes extremely hard
If from our own suffering we are barred
Imprisoned feelings make us tense as boards
Stiff like wooden puppets,s frozen hearts


As they say, the way out sends us through
The feelings that we did not know we knew