DARKNESS AS DARE
DARKNESS AS DARE
Where are we
with this? I write as the world slides
And settles.
The tap and trace system’s transparency
Is revealed
while attempting to parent us all
From the
brink. As those at the end of the phone
Disconnect,
unemployed despite purpose,
While the
cunning Chameleon Covid slips from swamp
To day
circus, Crocodiling safe moments to threaten
Each breath,
dream and drink. Where are we?
Still here.
Amateurishly trying to define the new normal.
And yet,
even the phrase sounds synthetic, as it reduces
What we had
before to cast clothes. Bell bottom
Flares that
once displayed our abandon, crop-tops,
Or, shirts
with a band on; those uniforms of belonging
That made us
as much the product as anything else
That we
owned. But now, the product has changed.
And the
product is fate, to be packaged. But which
Box, or
wrapping can effectively contain each strange
Day? Not to
mention the strained, who are doing
All they can
to live through this, crawling from under
The rocks
they have fashioned from their semi-detached
Terraced
cage. The disease daemons up, for just as sleep
Sisters
death, so does cure court contagion. As they
Barrel
Brexit, any European curative can’t be ours.
So, what did
you vote for, you fools, who chose the Devil
To spite the
dishwater? Will the NHS we’ve stopped
Clapping,
drained as it is sign Trump’s clause?
They’ll soon
be selling us off to fund the emergency
Rations
they’ve granted. In fact, no sooner given
Then the
need to repay was called in. Where are we?
You know.
Because we’re both the snow and Toboggin.
And yet
there will be a heavy heat here by Wednesday,
The sun as
bright blood for clouds’ bruise. Which
Gathers now
like space-craft as I write this poem
On Sunday;
grey on grey; air’s arachnid squatting
On sky like
bad news. The world has also become
Its own
glove. It has been turned inside out. Watch
The lining.
In showing the seams split between us
And all of
the security we would lose. This is not
The end,
capital E. It is the start of something else
Altogether.
Reality warped. You all noticed. But know,
That you can
iron a crease, not a void. You cannot seal
What is torn.
We can simply stitch together. But the line
That’s left
lingers. The line that’s left writes our choice.
We have been
bartered before but possibly not
At this
level. The wages withheld, once they’re given
May well be
death’s sermon and once again those
Of sin. So,
where will we be? And when will we get
There? Who
do we follow? And how will we give
Voice to the
reasons why we are here. They’re still blaming
Bats and
fish markets. But there are still further
Questions:
Which lab and rat were deployed?
I sit and
watch these fast-moving clouds seize sad
Shape, as an
animal sky sets the template.
I await said
rain; Heaven’s language. For as we
Scour words,
truth’s odd noise. Where are we now?
Some God
knows and is out there now, an explorer,
Tracing the
cosmos with the compass we need,
Far from
view. And so, we search stars that have
Started to
lose their first promise. Hoping that
Each new
prayer makes them glisten and that
The
listening light signals through. Where are we?
In the dark.
Which the blind nobly master. So, like
The blind we
must follow, for there in such
Darkness
sits the shapes we’ll be tracing.
There in the
darkness, life secret sign.
Hope’s lost
clue.
David Erdos, June 21st
2020
For more poems from David Erdos visit The Corona Diaries collection
David Erdos is an actor, writer, director with over 300 professional credits. He is a published poet, playwright, essayist and illustrator. He has lectured on all disciplines in theatre and film for leading performing arts colleges, schools and universities around the world. His books include EASY VERSES FOR DIFFICULT TIMES, THE SCAR ON THE CLOUD, OIL ON SILVER, NEWS FROM MARS, CHANGING PLACES WITH LIGHT (penniless press) and BYZANTIUM with the photographer Max Reeves. He is a contributing editor for The International Times and maker of documentaries all over the world. David’s work has been acclaimed by many leading figures including Harold Pinter, Heathcote Williams, Alan Moore, Andrew Kotting, Chris Petit and Iain Sinclair in whose recent book THE LAST LONDON, David features. He can be reached at David.erdos@sky.com.
 |
David Erdos
|
© David Erdos has asserted his moral rights as author of his work and has full copyright.
Comments
Post a Comment