"Verses from the Distance: Poetic Reflections Five Years Later"

Contributing Editor, Concetta Pipia, delivered a prompt back in March reflecting upon the 5th Anniversary of the historical covid pandemic, choosing two poets to be featured who captured on emotional tones and aspects of the widespread experiences.

"TRAPPED HUMANITY"

A light breeze picks up and flings dried leaves Into the air scraping along the asphalt and grass.

Outside, the sun is shining brightly, but within

The window, where the air is stale from fear of pain

Everyone seems to be hiding behind squares of glass

Letting life pass them by as their isolation presses

Down on their sanity, and cabin fever rises.

People's tempers become unbearable,

Spouses, children, friends, and close ones Bear the brunt of each other's ire, sparingly

They calm one another, worrying how long

This pandemic will stop the living from really living.

It feels like the walls are closing in on me,

Where none were there before.

Don't let your confinement bind your movement,

Health, prayer, belief, courage, and helpfulness.

Your humanity, sanity, and health will be no less

Important in understanding one another's plight,

And disdaining those who have so little value for light,

Life, liveliness, and loving, a death sentence, bright

In its suffocating need to oppress

While faith is for the living that'll never press

Depression into hearts stagnant from hibernation.

(Excerpt from my poetry book, 'Perfectly Flawed Poetry for Change.')

© MALAK KALMONI CHEHAB Canada

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"DEAD WON'T COME BACK TO LIFE"

They are just numbers;

Their names, so fondly given at birth,

Do not matter anymore.

Laid in queues, wherever they go,

They just wait for their numbers to come,

For an ambulance, or a bed, or oxygen

Or a proper place in the last resting ground.

Their numbers add to the whole,

And help in making percentages better,

Or worse, for data jugglers,

Who love to play with algorithms.

Loved ones, who lived Unsuspecting lives for long, Had to pay dearly, With their life, for living life freely.

They are nobody's responsibility

For the fate they have chosen daringly.

They don't ask for sympathy,

Or a grand monument or farewell,

Or statues or mementos on streets.

All they want is some attention,

Care of friends and the caretakers,

An honorable end which is their due.

The fire rages and burns And smashes the overconfidence Of proud men,

Who are busy picking innocuous tweets

From the rug, spread out before them.

The burning fire dazzles their eyes,

And numbs their senses.

And they chant:

"The Dead Won't Come Back To Life"

"The Dead Won't Come Back To Life"

© KALUCHARAN SAHU India