Stick or Twist?

We’re in the worst place we can possibly be caught between the virus and the economy. Do we stick or do we twist? Either way it’s a credible risk. The government wants us to go out spending but doesn’t want this country to be trending by rising up the mortality league list and it’s difficult to see through the pandemic mist. Should we stay safe in the lockdown or open up the businesses in the town? Though the transmission rates are coming down we still have a virus named after a crown. So while there’s an active epidemic and the infections are systemic these questions are academic because the outlook’s not fantastic and without meaning to sound bombastic some people need to get their ass kicked.

You see the politicians are in pieces ‘cos they weren’t prepared for this kind of crisis, but it’s the common people who are paying the price, and no amount of apology is going to suffice. Our leaders had no training for this amount of dying but what they do possess is a talent for lying and while the entire world is sat there crying while all around us our neighbours and families are dying, our so-called leaders should be busy rectifying all those initial mistakes that were made all the misinformation that was relayed and the best laid plans that were never laid and the important decisions that were delayed.

The question still unanswered as we are caught between the virus and the economy and if we try to get back to some sense of normality, is how much carnage are we going to see? As the lockdown starts to ease and everyone begins to do as they please are we going to avoid a wider spread of this disease, catching the coughs and stifling the sneeze? Will we soon be worse off than when we first began? As we attempt to reboot our economic plan will the social distancing rules be ignored? Will we listen to the advice from our overlords or will it all be like a monopoly board - go back three spaces, do not collect your reward? Now no matter what the government’s stance is, they’re gonna throw their dice and we’ll all have to take our chances.

Steve Wheeler © 5 July, 2020

Image from Pexels

This poem was first published in Ellipsis by Steve Wheeler, Wheelsong Books, 2020.

The virus and the damage done

As the vulnerable were locked inside and shielded

Then each of us in earnest with our gods, we pleaded

To end the dread that raged and roared about us like a hurricane

Soon we began to slowly realise that in our pain

None of us might ever be the same again

For each of us our future plans lost and conceded

As we watched each yesterday accumulate

Each day became yet one more crossed off date

In a calendar of desolation that stretched out before us every one

The death count mounted and infections spiralled on

Not one of us could shield our minds from the devastation

And the mental scarring of the damage by the virus done

And now although we are not without hope

Within that minuscule flickering of positivity

There lurks a certain taint of inevitability

A sense that the damage has already been done

And that no amount of redemption can bring us back out into the sun

And as the distance grows around us and the innocence dies

The security that we once knew petrifies

And so as we emerge, our eyes blinking with unease

Into a brave new world diminished by such insidious disease

We know that there will be no more days in the sun

Although each in our way attempted to be shielded

Our sanity was ultimately yielded

To the virus and the damage done

Steve Wheeler © 22 June, 2020

Image from Pixabay

This poem was first published in Ellipsis by Steve Wheeler, Wheelsong Books, 2020.

White Noise

Photo by Steve Wheeler

I was up at five again today to see the summer light stream \ through the curtain / but it wasn't this that brushed my torrid dreams \ aside it was more likely the turbulence of life in fact I'm certain /

that since the crisis hit us like a slow burning conflagration \ my brain has been exercised by thoughts of creeping doom / and it doesn't take too much imagination \ for my tired suggestible mind to irrationally assume /

that everyone I hold most dear must surely succumb \ and I will be the bearer of a lethal infection / But this although a remote possibility is pretty dumb \ to dwell upon when it robs me of my sleep and is only a vivid confection /

of a strained imagination. My dreaming offers little respite contorted as it is in strange \ contrived and convoluted tropes / and it makes me feel as though each night my rest is disturbed and rearranged \ as I am led away in ropes /

of anxiety down dark highways of doubt and fear to places surreal \ and disturbing / to a rational mind and every night the visions rear in mists of imaginings that are at once palpably unreal \ yet if I allow them to be so perturbing /

I was up at five again today to watch the dawn break silently beyond my window pane / and I am so very tired of all the white noise in my life and how it tries to shake my soul but in the final analysis another day of this has started and I am simply weary once again /

Steve Wheeler © 2 July, 2020 

Aftermath

Photo from Flickr

When this fierce battle is done and our ordeal ends

And there is no more cause to shelter from the threat of infection

We will finally be free to share embraces with our family and our friends

And shed between ourselves our pent up love and affection

As we emerge uncertain, into that tenuous aftermath

And look back upon the tragedy and loss our hearts endured

Where we no longer have cause to fear, and our joyful collective laugh

Disguises the worst of times to which our minds were inured

What will be forever revised and what will remain the same?

How might we measure each and every nuance of the change?

Will we as a people be intent on assigning any blame?

Will we trust each other more as we turn to face the strange?

As we emerge from our enforced and global hibernation

And we begin to pick up pieces of lives the storm has scattered

And a semblance of normality returns once more to our ravaged nation

Perhaps we might treasure values that previously should have mattered

Steve Wheeler © 26 June, 2020

The R

In case you really need to ask

Although I have a homemade mask

I won’t be going out at all

Until the R rate starts to fall

Until the R rate falls to zero

I won’t be acting like a hero

I will be strictly staying home

Locked down inside my safety zone

To step outside my door would be

Too dangerous for me, you see

Some don’t comply with health advice

Their actions make the R rate rise

So replying to your RSVP

Accept please, my apologies

I hope your birthday’s second to none

And that your party will be fun

And you’ll enjoy plenty of sun

But when everything is said and done

I’d rather stay at home, and be safe inside

Than adding to the R rate rise

Steve Wheeler © 24 June, 2020

Image from Pikrepo

Meds

Photo from Flickr

Remdesivir and

Dexamethasone

Are both difficult to say

But they fit in this poem

They could save your life and

They’ll definitely help some

As medicines go 

They are both fairly awesome

Steve Wheeler © 24 June, 2020

Deep Clean

Photo from Pixnio

I have a vacuum cleaner

That cleans the carpet well

It deals with all the messy stains

And takes away the smell

It picks up toe nail clippings

And a hundred kinds of bits

It gathers up the ear wax

And incarcerates the nits

It eradicates the fluff and stuff

And every kind of dander

It cleans up every surface

From the backdoor to the front door

It clears out nooks and crannies

And scours every niche

It sucks up cake and biscuit crumbs

And dried up bits of quiche

What annoys me most of all

Is the cleaning never ends

No matter how you suck it up

The more the dust descends

And when its little bag is full

It’s emptied in the bin

And then the cycle starts again -

It’s a lot like me, and sin

I have a vacuum cleaner

That cleans my carpet well

It deals with the unsavoury

But it can’t save me from Hell

My soul was deeply stained by sin

Through wilful dark manoeuvres

Then Jesus Christ deep cleaned my soul

More efficient than a hundred Hoovers

Steve Wheeler © 21 July, 1997 (Revised 20 June, 2020)

Isaiah 64:6

WFH

Photo from Wallpaper Flare

In my the living room

I've made a space for Zoom

And various paraphernalia

I'll be regularly Skyping,

And email typing

And a dozen other ways to hail ya

We'll keep in touch

For work and such-like

Ways to earn a few quid

But please don't rely 

On an immediate reply

'Cos I'm working from home with three kids

Steve Wheeler © May 19, 2020 

Taking Stock

Photo from Wikimedia Commons

Welcome to our superstore

There’s everything you’ll ever need and more

Essential items are on display

Such as all the ingredients for Pancake Day

We’ll sell you lemons, sugar, eggs

But be aware we're running out of flour bags

We've sandwiches and ornate bowls

Alas, there are no toilet rolls 

There’s Easter eggs and potted plants

and frozen peas and underpants

And barbecues and packs of beer,

(Remember summer's almost here)

There’s ready meals to sink a ship

Buy one get one free, but be quick

There’s cod and hake and Dover sole,

But we’ve completely out of toilet roll

We do though, stock the Daily Mail

And other tabloids are on sale

And you can purchase all you need

From vegetables to packs of seed

There's a hundred different kinds of bread

Or you could try our cakes instead

But some things are beyond our control

For instance, there’s no toilet roll

Our goods are neatly piled in stacks

Select your items from the racks

Our special offers wait for you

From kitchenware to ladies shoes

Slashing prices you can’t ignore

Your trolley full, no room for more

But the panic buyers took their toll

We’re sorry, there’s no toilet roll

Steve Wheeler © 12 April, 2020