June 24, 2020 – Diny FvK

These are the poems I have written during the Corona virus pandemic; chronicling and commenting on the news stories and social impact of this dystopian period. There will be nineteen – if I don’t loose the will.

Do feel free to copy and share, so long as you include the copyright notice at the end of each poem.

COVID-1

Dystopian days and inebriate nights

A pause in plausible thought

And fixation secured on essentiality

Education becomes academic

Are red peppers better than green?

COVID-2

Is collateral damage

A merrily summed average

Of the ones who survived

Getting sick, but imbibed

Deathly-sized doses of vodka

And news?

COVID-3

The humble loo roll

Got a shiny new role

As an emblem of greed

For those who succeeded

To procure one or two

Dozen packs for their loo.

COVID-6

Stick ‘em in quick!

Don’t tell ‘em they’re sick

They’re senile, demented

Their life-span near-ended

—

War heroes, mothers and lovers and wives

Ex-nurses and bakers and people whose lives

Were fulsome and vital and just like ours now

But they’re broken, forgetful – worthless somehow

—

So, stick ‘em in quickly

The infectious and sickly

Our care homes have beds

Callous ministers said.

COVID-7

You can’t touch his balls

And he can’t touch yours

Though to kick them is perfectly fine

But avoid ball confusion

Preserve your seclusion

By staining your balls in some way

You can handle your own, though

Oh, please do not groan

‘Cos that’s how you play tennis today

COVID-9

So, The Trump’s got a new prophylactic

Well, isn’t that an interesting tactic?

He’s moved on from preaching

The merits of bleaching

To a drug that is in common use

–

But, whether it works

Is sending Twitter berserk

His dissenters are shouting

‘He’ll keel over while touting’

This drug for its off-label use

–

And who else is quaffing

To save them from coughing

Is it true, are there lies

Will The Donald survive

This drug and its contentious use?

COVID-11

If the figures run through

And it turns out to be true

That it kills like a flu

What will we do?

When next flu season’s here

Will we lockdown in fear

Year on year, after year

Can we shut down our lives

Will our businesses survive?

Will our mental health?

Decline with our wealth?

As the pockets of wealthy

Whose assets stay healthy

Will splash their reserves

On the final preserves

Of the small that have fallen.

Images from Unsplash:
COVID-9 Photo by Hal Gatewood on Unsplash
COVID-6 Photo by Gert Stockmans on Unsplash
COVID-11 Photo by Bryan Angelo on Unsplash

blog.dinyfvk.com

GEM’S NECKLACE FROM FREEN

COVID19 POEMS