#lockdown poetry

[wouldiweresteadfastasthouart]

Pink Moon, Salena Godden

from Pessimism is for Lightweights: 30 Pieces of Courage and Resistance

[thembie-shark]

a lil crossout poem i found from back in lockdown when i was finally accepting myself and coming out as non-binary to friends for the first time

[deutsche-bahn]

Did you ever consider doing Poetry Slam?

Maybe maybe maybe. Ich entertaine gerne, aber ungern auf Bühnen. Vielleicht liegt's an den klassischen body image issues und der Tatsache, dass die Leute die deinen Kram lesen/hören dann nicht mehr so abstrakt sind wie zB hier. Ist irgendwie was anderes in Echtzeit Reaktionen mitzubekommen, anstatt die bis zur totalen Entfremdung verdenglischten Tags von tumblr user arsonist-chicken or sth zu lesen. Nicht, dass ich die nicht wertschätzen würde ofc.

[poetryincostume]

1830’s underpinnings, 2021

Handworked linen chemise, cotton twill hand-corded transitional corset, cotton corded petticoat, two tucked cotton petticoats, organdie pleated petticoat.

With matching hand-corded cotton twill facemask

[rivoluzionaria]

"Eppure lui era una di quelle persone che sapeva provare l'amore di tutti i baci di Nuovo Cinema Paradiso e, al contempo, l'amara verità delle lacrime di Totò. Una di quelle persone che in ogni bozza, nelle cose taciute, tra grafite e candore, conservava un po' di sé, un po' di me, un po' di te.

Una di quelle che poi si perdeva nelle storie degli altri solo per vedere se certe cose avevano il coraggio di succedere davvero. Una di quelle persone che spesso fissava il sole fino a voler bruciare gli occhi e ogni loro pensiero; una di quelle che ascoltava la musica perché sapeva che ogni parola scritta, per resistere al tempo, doveva vibrare in armonia sopra un'accordo.

Una di quelle persone capaci di rendersi Primavera tra le mani del Botticelli; una di quelle in grado di ascoltarti con lo stesso silenzio assordante di Roma deserta durante il lockdown, che quasi riuscivi a sentire le voci di tutti i desideri del mondo dentro Fontana di Trevi."

— manuela g.

[camillamaecaulay]

for grace, after a party, frank o’hara

[basementfairy69]

Rules if we go into a second lockdown:

1) continue to gatekeep this app, we dont need any more gross sweaty men or weirdos finding tumblr and bothering us

2) we could take the opportunity to make tons of communitys and just all be friends because wed be bored so why not

3) bring back bullying, some weirdos on here and all social media are just waaaay to comfortable

4) bring back diaries, i unfortunately dont wanna hear about how your coochie is throbbing when you look at dreadheads, though relatable, it would serve us well to bring back secrets

5) bring back blackberry’s we need social media detoxs once in a while because 2020 was literally like insane

6) get fit, we all swore we were gunna glowup during lockdown but the only thing that happened was we lost our social skills

7) bring back discord servers, contraversial a little bit but being in a discord call at like 2am and playing among us was probably the most fun ever, and its just such an easy place to chat

8) lets not do the whole TW on stuff like toilets, which yes, was a real thing people did it on just about anything, not my fault u fell into a toilet at 8 unless u use a fucking litterbox im sure you see that damn toilet anyways

9) bring back anime, not the weird ones where all the girls moan every two seconds, the ones like death note, watching that was the most entertained I had been the whole lockdown

10) regain our attention span, during lockdown I could watch a 10 hour twitch vod on youtube and not even be bothered in the slightest and i need that back

Thats my 10 things if we go into another hypothetical lockdown which probably wont happen but you never know so thought i’d write it out anyways

[do-rey-me]

you are the world.

as you lay dying in a hospital bed

we take a moment to breathe in

(we do not know this is a dangerous thing yet)

the air free of the chemicals and beeping and rushing we have grown accustomed to

we try and eat something that is not bland

the shops are closed

as you are dying, the world is dying with you.

when we had first arrived, the staff had thought i was old

they had me sign paperwork and give medical information for your stay as your next of kin

they looked in my eyes and saw my future

(Apollo was God of prophecy and medicine both)

knew i would command your fate into the ground

knew i would not condemn you to that terror of cremation

your family arrives

(black birds following armies, knowing that a feast will be served)

they always do, for matters they consider important

first arrives your sister

(i forget which one)

she is kind to me, of course

she dances around the obvious, of course

she is surprised that my mother and stepfather are there,

although she tries to hide it

at some point, there is a meeting around whether or not

you would want to have donated yourself to help others

(why is that information not already available?)

i don’t know for certain what you would say, but i tell them to do it anyway

(forgive me, for not asking)

(forgive me, for not saying hello)

(forgive me, for waiting until i was grown to talk)

your sister tries to give you your Last Rites while my family is away

the Priest, the Doctors, they all tell her no

she tries anyway

(i understand, she is trying to help)

(i understand, she does not know you)

your Mother arrives.

(so does her husband and my uncle)

i don the armor ive been welding for my (your) life (death)

I greet her with respect, we go through the motions of grief before death

(i do not give her my True Name, i do not eat of her food, i do not give her any debts)

(i am a changeling child, i know her kind well)

i prepare myself for real battles to begin.

the rest of the players trickle in

the family

your friends

(your friends go through your house, giving most to me. neither side asks, so no debt is owed)

(i do not have to go myself)

(it is one less battle to fight)

my mother becomes my second-in-command easily, as if she never even stopped

she is water, flowing and changing

she is rock, steady and tethering

here is how the war is fought

in uncomfortable hospital chairs, we talk, your family and i

your mother takes charge on her side

i take charge on mine

we are outnumbered, but we have legal power over your decisions

and their time is running out.

as per the rules set long ago, we must remain respectful. polite.

they are your family. they raised you. you are their precious son.

(you were born out of wedlock. you abandoned the faith. you raised a queer.)

my mother abandoned you. my stepfather must hate you. your friends are irrelevant.

(you were my mother’s best friend. you got my stepfather to branch out. your friends built a boat to burn for you)

but me? i am your child. you are my precious father, my world, who i am losing.

so when i tell them that you would want to be buried without a box, to feed the earth and let the worms eat your flesh?

they cannot oppose me directly.

most of your family ignores your brother, my uncle

they can’t understand the words he says so they think him infantile

when they aren’t ignoring him, they are Handling him

they tell him you are dying in little words

“Pete isn’t going to be around anymore soon”

they say in falsetto tones

they do not let him grieve. they do not let him love.

i do not let the rage boil under my skin

i do not let myself mourn that with your passing he will be taken away as well

it will not help him. it will not help you.

i often can’t understand what my uncle says either, but that’s not new

the wind likes to play tricks on me, tying words into knots before they reach my ears

i am one of the few that treats him like the eldest child he will soon be

he is one of the few that treats me like the child i shall still be for two years yet

so between battles, sitting amongst the corpses of words, we sit in silence,

and we draw

your death is scheduled

it has to be, to harvest what they can from you, to save who they can

there is ceremony to what comes after

they bring the body up, and we walk down the hall with it

doctors and nurses line the halls, giving respect to what we have lost

giving respect to what you have given that will save others

the only sound the whole way is my uncle’s sobs

i don’t know if he hates that it was a child, your child, who was the one comforting him

and so the world ends.

the funeral seems dull in comparison to the honor walk

sure, your family made a scene,

but my mother took the narrative back

and anyway.

by that point the fight was over

your wishes were respected

i had won.

the next day,

we went home.

and we didn’t come out.

and so the world ends.

[topoet]

Clean Enough

Clean Enough holding water in hands that have enough trouble  holding on somedays <> hands washed more & more with the harsh soap of fear what did I touch last who did I touch last who did they touch last when did they last wash their hands <> can we make a quick stop at the sanitizer station you cannot hold the water with those hands   until they have been approved by the…

[opheliapenning]

Quarantined Freedom

a little poem that i wrote during the height of lockdowns in my town; a time when escapism was a need, not a want 

(August 23rd, 2021)

[shayarigateway]

Coronavirus | Lockdown | Anti stress poetry | Best Urdu Poetry Collection | DUA FOR CORONAVIRUS | Shayari | shayari | sad shayari | love shayari | urdu shayari | poetry in urdu | urdu poetry | prayer for corona coronavirus | Teri Hai Zameen Tera Aasman T

[unlock-curiosity]

Hi, This is Unlock-Curiosity with Ms. Curious. 🪄

The following poem is called "Obsession for Freedom".

I would love to hear from all the readers, do comment your thoughts..!

[placestriz]

May I have your attention

“May I have your attention please? May I have your attention”

Bricks are falling and fire engines screaming

“All I ask is a moment of your time, your time”

The walls closing in on the unsuspecting

“An intruder — a fire — an eldritch monster”

Our world is shrinking, disappearing, emergency lights blaring

“has been detected in the building”

There is no building, no walls or floors

Stars went out; the void galore

Deep underground (what ground?) an teen too old sighs

“bunker down and cover” before I close my eyes

A story told before, the kind that takes childhood lies

[abellinthecupboard]

Lockdown, Menopause (Day 80)

Maybe it’s stress. Or maybe my last egg dropped eighty days ago, careening down the slope of my Fallopian tube the way my sister on new rollerskates crouched at the top of the driveway, and in a moment tipped over the crown of the hill, then gathered speed, her shaggy hair flapping behind her, until she tumbled at the bottom and scraped her knees, her arm, the side of her face, and it was that screaming that brought my mom and me outside to see what was wrong, a girl with a mouth of blood and gravel, her wheeled feet kicking the ground, and me gripping the doorframe of the house, not sure how to move forward, not sure how to move back.

— Ann Hudson, featured in 45th Parallel issue 7 (source)

[molirix]

Here's a #poem about our #Resurrection by #allah and the #devil's role in Allah's great #plan

Here's a collection of my #poetry that I started writing while in #lockdown during the #covid #pandemic. I adapted to being trapped, stuck at home with nothing to do but see how the world is to me while constantly on #socialmedia

The amazon link for my book, paperback, and Kindle versions are available here 🫶👇

https://amzn.eu/d/0iq0Gdt

[acidsneeze]

Look At A Book: Our Paused World

Welcome to my hundredth blog post! Today, we're going to be taking an in-depth look at Our Paused World, my short but sweet lockdown-inspired poetry collection.