Poetry Archives - Page 2 of 3 - Life in Quarantine

D.P., 31, an Assistant Professor of English Literature in New Delhi, India

“The government officials have estimated the numbers of virus infected people in Delhi itself is going to be more than 5 lakh by July end. It is quite a spectacle. A spectacle of numbers ! They have become so indispensable in the way of perceiving reality. We are straightjacketed into a dense matrix of numbers. Big data, statistics, surveys, meter readings of power connection, grades and even citizen identity. Poetry gives me a fresh lease of life to breathe in this age of numbers.”

September 12, 2020 No Comments

R.I., 66, an author and visual artist in Syracuse, NY

“I removed my rings but one. Bracelets, and watchbands, anything a virus could stick to and, by some inbred
genetic need to trick me to scratch my nose that exact moment, to allow it
to enter my respiratory column,
to feed.”

August 25, 2020 No Comments

C.G.B., 60, a freelance writer in Brooklyn, NY

“Somehow, I felt responsible
that my rage and envy
had mutated
into a virus,
caused a global pandemic
and that I was
the Queen of Corona.”

August 25, 2020 No Comments

C.L.D., 40, an editor in San Antonio, TX

“She is as still as a breathing creature can be
sound, is for the world, chasing beyond itself.”

August 13, 2020 No Comments

M.S., 44, a poet and editor in Jersey City, NJ

“I still remember the afternoon of March 13, 2020, when I started following the official site of the New Jersey Coronavirus Dashboard and the number of cases started to climb up like mercury on a hot thermometer. I was anxious due to the fact that my nine-year-old was in the school playing and socializing with his peers with no fear and awareness about the pandemic. I requested the school for a day off […] my fears were realized when the mayor ordered a state lockdown the very next Monday.

August 11, 2020 No Comments

A.C., 52, a writer/editor in Sydney, Australia

“…I spread wide my arms,
stretch heart skyward
breathe deeply under
overarching boughs
and open my eyes
to a small universe
of grey-brown spheres
gently swaying
midst the frenzied
feeding,
each one so like a
tiny spiky
Death Star—
a perfect
wooden replica
of a COVID-19 cell…”

August 11, 2020 No Comments

M.M., 80, a retired child caregiver in Milwaukee, WI

“Before… it was easy to smile. Now… it is too much of an effort. Energy for the smallest of tasks cannot be found.”

August 7, 2020 No Comments

J.A., 48, a hospitality team leader in Portland, OR

“I wrote this poem in the month of April, thinking of those I missed but could not see or touch in these first few months of the pandemic. I thought about what it would be like when we reunited, how I might express a memory of how I hope it would be…”

August 5, 2020 No Comments

M.C., 22, a student in New Haven, CT

You should know that my professor, during the last class he would ever teach, asked whether we should sacrifice the lives of the elderly, people like him, so that we can survive. “Yes, I think you should” was his answer And after we said thank you and clapped, and left the meeting one by one, tears swelled up his eyes.

August 2, 2020 No Comments

E.B., 45, a writer in Geneva, Switzerland

“Medusa-like will we turn others into stone // In our self-isolation seeking our own blight? // Or in the tide of ripened self-reflection // Will we find our place beyond inequity?”

August 1, 2020 No Comments

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