Covidiocy - Donald Keyman

Am I one, one of the seventy-three?
Waiting by the phone ever so anxiously
Checking my temperature and my sense of taste
If I’m about to die I’d like to see my killer’s face
To check for empathy and some sense of shame
A realisation of the gravity of their selfish game

It seems highly unlikely that they lived alone
It could have been your lodger or you perhaps used their phone
Did anyone not realise there was a spreader in their midst
Maybe you lived with them or were someone that they kissed
You might well have taken their empty glass to the bar
Helping to spread that virus to people near and far

The exponential potential of your actions cannot be ignored
You need to ask yourself if it was a luxury we cannot afford
A text message arrives it’s from the States again
Telling us to obey the rules if we’ve half a brain
I still don’t yet know if I’m one of the seventy-three
Waiting all alone to gasp for air and die needlessly

Donald Keyman

Covid Insanity - Diane Scantlebury

So strange the silence
That descends upon our towns,
As stunned, we retreat
To the isolated safety of home,
Forbidden to socialize,
Afraid to roam,
Our lives turned upside down
By a virus,
That’s truly gone viral,
We plunge into selfish anarchy
In a downward spiral,
The worst and best traits of humanity,
Stirred up by the fever
Of Covid insanity.

Diane Scantlebury

Self-Isolating - Tony Gardner

I've been stuck inside for five days straight
It's so flipping irritating
I'm not allowed outside my gate
I'm self-Isolating.
The dog is not a happy boy
He finds it so frustrating
He's chewed the head off every toy
Since we've been Isolating.
He misses all the exercise
Sits by the door just waiting
He cannot seem to understand
Why we're self-Isolating
The missus doesn't seem to mind
She is so placating
When we get wound up and enraged
Through self-Isolating
Suppose we shouldn't feel this way
But 'til this starts abating
For all our sakes we must put up
With flipping Isolating.

Tony Gardne

Something's Gonna Get Ya - Stephen A. Roberts

The dinosaurs never watched TV
But they knew they’d die eventually
Just something in the air they sensed
Wasn’t right, it was no coincidence

Bronty craned her neck to see
The approaching calamity
The Sun had gone she wondered why
No Pterodactyls crossed the sky

Tyrannosaurus wasn’t bored
He was working on his hoard
His massive bones were later found
With a pile of creatures all around

Even Stego the herbivorous charmer
Felt an itch beneath his armour
And worried that there might be a chance
That he’d soon run out of plants

So each of them found their own way
To face their final judgement day
And one by one they fell down dead
Asleep forever in their fossil beds

Stephen A. Roberts

The Death Song - Ian Duquemin

This song's about the night I died
The knife. My blood. My suicide
I bet my soul that no one cried
No angel came, so someone lied

The veil of life and death was thin
It brushed against my butchered skin
I took a peekaboo within
My death on show. My mortal sin

I hoped someone would welcome me
And see what others failed to see
A soul who longed to be set free
His shame that held no dignity

So here I am, and still I'm lost
Who sacrificed and paid the cost
Whose pieces shattered, stained and tossed
Now crumbled into ash and dust

The grave awaits, so dark and deep
A place for my eternal sleep
To bury secrets sworn to keep
In silence where I sadly weep

Remember me as nothing good
A child, a man, misunderstood
Who longed to love, but never could
As every living person should

Ian Duquemin