Posted in April 2020 Poetry Month, COVID-19/Pandemic, interNational Poetry Month, Jamie Dedes, Pandemic/ COVID-19, Poems/Poetry

Lockdown by Jamie Dedes

Michael Ancher, “The Sick Girl”, 1882, Statens Museum for Kunst / Public domain photograph courtesy of Michael Peter Ancher

“Kleitos, a likeable young man,
about twenty-three years old
with a first-class education, a rare knowledge of Greek
is seriously ill. He caught the fever
that reaped a harvest this year in Alexandria.”
Kleitos’ Illness, Constantine P. Cavafy


Bronchi- and alveoli-seeking respiratory droplets
Float on the air, a nightmare of guided munitions
Always a reckoning when such assassins are loosed,
And now the vineyard of joy is dead and gated, the
Elders are on lockdown, prisoners of COVID-19,
Of a government that moves too slowly, and this
Virus that moves with speed, children sent home
From school, the workers forced from their jobs, a
Run on TP, tissues and hand sanitizers, breezes
Caressing the face, now just a memory like love
And blisses, handshakes and bracing bear-hugs
Like social networking of the off-line variety

Originally published in Jamie Dedes’ The Poet by Day Webzine  in response to Michael Dickel’s Wednesday Writing Prompt

© 2020, Jamie Dedes

Author:

Jamie Dedes is a Lebanese-American poet and free-lance writer. She is the founder and curator of The Poet by Day, info hub for poets and writers, and the founder of The Bardo Group, publishers of The BeZine, of which she was the founding editor and currently a co-manager editor with Michael Dickel. Ms. Dedes is the Poet Laureate of Womawords Press 2020 and U.S associate to that press as well. Her debut collection, "The Damask Garden," is due out fall 2020 from Blue Dolphin Press.

3 thoughts on “Lockdown by Jamie Dedes

  1. “Before Corona”
    Once, a long time ago,
    Before Corona,
    People sat together
    Talking in soft voices
    That only they could hear
    Heads almost touching.
    People held hands
    While walking along
    A riverbank
    At sunset.
    Sometimes people
    Held each other so close
    They could feel each other’s bodies
    Underneath their clothes.
    Sometimes they kissed
    Tasting each other’s mouths.
    Sometimes
    They pleasured each other.
    And sometimes
    There were the accidental touches
    On crowded trains or buses or planes
    That you each savored privately
    Arms brushing against arms,
    Hand touching hand
    While passing a cup of coffee
    To someone,
    A head heavy with sleep
    Leaning against you
    Long hair spilling across your shoulder.
    These were the times before Corona
    That we lived for,
    That we couldn’t imagine
    Having to do without,
    That we thought would go on forever.

    April 22, 2020

    from “The Hoopoe’s Call” (c) 2020 Mike Stone

    Liked by 2 people

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