Pandemic, epidemic, unprecedented, a global catastrophe, fuck me!
Fear, anxiety, griping tight,
to our throats, our hearts, every night.
Will our families be next?
Will we come out of this alive? What about my boy,
will he survive?
Angel heroes on the front line, returning home to their loved ones. Risking those precious,
to curb this invisible killer.
So many wondering
if they will stay afloat. Where’s Noah and his ark? Let’s get this ship afloat!
Sail away, two by two to pastures new.
If only a boat,
some water and a crew.
Alas, that’s not the way
we will beat this unscathed. Escape is not an option. Isolation is the key.
To quash this epidemic,
“save our NHS”, “stay at home”, don’t call a medic.
Isolate, isolated, self-quarantined, hide in your homes not to be seen.
Venturing out of the house to exercise once a day. Social distance
you had to close your door. To family and friends,
all those you adore.
To protect yourselves, from the virus that kills, Covid-19,
no vaccine to be seen.
Sweeping through nation,
after nation after nation,
death toll spiralling,
to an unbelievable denomination.
How has this deadly weapon
been allowed to cause such mass destruction? Why weren’t planes grounded,
to quell the spread?
Was there money to lose? When lives were played like pawns,
to the lions they were fed.
To our homes we retreat,
in our various connotations. Some living alone,
some with extended relations.
All trying to live
this new existence, with fear and dread, a daily subsistence.
Will finances last,
what about our food supplies? So many questions,
so many lies.
Our global economy
will likely crumble.
How many mouths can we feed? Who will fall and stumble?
So many worries,
for so many people.
The clock tower strikes and where is the steeple.
Prop us all up
with a basic wage,
let this capitalist tower fall, let’s hear the rage.
While the planet breathes
and sighs its release,
blue skies, wildlife released, from the fat cats, hamster wheel.
Lucy Arden – Mother Artist, Writer & Creative Activist