MADNESS AS MAP


MADNESS AS MAP



As the Covidian cloud met the land it left a second
Coat to contain us. For in this culture’s climate change
We’re all mired, either by the heat’s scrutiny, or by cold.

As we witness minds turn from former paths of reason,
Which bridged or circled connection, to this hidden by-way,
Recently unearthed, no map sold. An avenue between

Streets along which we increasingly wander, our thoughts
Disconcerted as we are unable to trust the past way
That perhaps took us home or towards other people,

As we wipe our shoes and feet on friends, sisters, brothers;
Stains that no mother could ever forget or forgive, come
What may. Clearly, something has changed. The bone

Has been rattled. While still intact, the heads shaken
Seem to have betrayed their home skull. Madness has
Suddenly become the new map, or at least some fresh strain

Of madness, which is clearly as corrosive as Covid
As it sends past relationships to be culled. We misunderstand,
Lose our way as the social dance seeks direction. And we

Misstep, masked, unseeing and stumbling still whilst upright.
What have we come to mean to ourselves, not to mention
Each other? The disconcert we’re performing has no song

To convey our foresight. Even the scrape of butter on toast
Can scratch now. As the wounds of booze bare foreboding.
Shopping becomes service as does the chore to survive.

Businesses fail. As redundancies send us stupid before
The lost altars of achievement that these winds unwound
For cut lives. It has to all start again, by which I mean

Right down to our thinking. I will write towards some manifesto
That I may in hope attempt to propose. And yet, as we try 
To return the sane to the mainstream, each small river

Must glisten with the current and weave of first life
Which started out in such pools. Apparently there is
A sea inside Pluto. If that world of ice can start something

Then the ‘lunatic in the hall’ Waters wrote of
On The Dark Side of The Moon escapes strife.
Not easily that’s for sure. But then death’s inherent

Difficulty sees life tested. So, now, rise and walk
Without wisdom. Master and mistress such madness 
And we learn to talk again with each other, even across

This sad anger, for as vision’s disturbed, hearts divide.
Friends may be lost. And minds as well. Yet we are staring,
Across corrupted hearts and intentions, stars retain guidance

And spectacular suns reshape skies.



David Erdos July 7th 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.


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