is that a star
or a satellite
shining in the sky so bright?
gonna pretend
it is a star
shinin’ down
from the heavens so far
cause stars
like love, like angels
help me to cope
a light in the darkness
that always offers hope
copyright © 2020 KPM
she does her best
to come to grips with this pandemic
so she’s developed 2 new habits
now second nature – endemic
once a devotee
of total silence
now she finds she needs noise
else her thoughts turn violence
when she first awakens
she needs to hear another’s voice
certain movies work quite well
some films just make her heart rejoice
she needs loud music
old rock ‘n roll works best
she can close her eyes ‘n dance
in time with the heartbeat in her breast
then there are the days
when the black dog is near
sucking the air from the room
staring at her with a hateful leer
days when she’s so depressed
she can’t bear any sound
beneath the duvet she hides
she’s safe here, underground
copyright © 2020 KPM
some days she gets up slowly
but every day she arises
aware of possibilities
on the heels of God’s sunrises
mornings after nightmares
when she finds it hard to talk
dreich weather days
when it hurts her to walk
bein’ locked down hasn’t helped
no matter how hard she tries
she feels helpless in the face of
angry unbelievers’ cries
so often she is tired
yet she soldiers on
for the many people who love her
for the sight of one more dawn
copyright © 2020 KPM
it’s my own special concoction
utilised on those days
when I waft from room to room
in an unthinking daze
mornings when I feel unsettled
afternoons when I feel blue
after evening tea
when I don’t know what to do
made especially for those days
when I simply cannot win
a magic remedy
that I call sunset gin
no, I’m not gone tell you
what’s in the recipe
just believe me when I tell you
it restores your sanity
a quirky tri-coloured mix
of orange & pink & yellow
all angst disappears
one glass of this & you’ll feel mellow
it’s no antidote for Covid
though troubles it will drown
love me some sunset gin
it’s my solution to lockdown
copyright © 2020 KPM
what day is it?
what is the time?
the world has shifted on its axis
there’s no more reason, no rhyme
wake up, make the bed
cook a bite to eat
settle in next to the window
observing an empty street
chain smoking’s now the norm
you do it every day
menthol mushroom cloud
that never quite goes away
‘s really scary, too:
how much you’ve begun to drink
lethal but legal cocktails
that don’t help you not to think
each day is the same
telly vomits worldwide unrest
nights spent struggling to sleep
with a constant ache in your chest
13 weeks of lockdown
your bank account says you’re poor
13 weeks of fear
because the future’s so unsure
copyright © 2020 KPM
locked down
locked in
in her head
a tumultuous din
guzzling down
chardonnay or gin
half-assed poems
consigned to the bin
watching lyin’ newscasters
spewing daily spin
hidin’ under the covers
contemplating sin
locked down
locked in
copyright © 2020 KPM
boo to you, Boris
Cummings should get the sack
guess it’s not only morals
but leadership you lack
all those people on the front lines
their kids are sat home in tears
while those in power traipse all over
as poor folks struggle with their fears
major fail, Boris
were you ever really sick?
or was it all a PR stunt
you must think we’re pretty thick
you’re every bit as horrid
as your buddy 45
the disregard you show
for people fighting to survive
just once, do right Boris
kick Cummings out
or karma will come for you
of that you should have no doubt!
copyright © 2020 KPM
gettin’ up in the mornin’
“where are my fags?”
while the kettle’s boilin’
I need those first few drags
before I eat my breakfast
“what happened to my book?”
fiction’s better than the news
it improves the day’s outlook
gotta get some bread ‘n milk
“where’d I put my purse?”
must be fallout from the lockdown
that’s why my memory’s getting’ worse
however,
“where are my keys?”
is somethin’ I no longer say
in my flat or in my garden
that’s where I prefer to stay
copyright © 2020 KPM
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