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Tag Archives: coronovirus

The Truth Train

17 Tuesday Mar 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, poetry, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 93 Comments

Tags

coronovirus, COVID-19, life, pandemic, poem, poetry, relationships

train in railway

Photo by Mark Plötz on Pexels.com

The Truth, a fateful brakeless train, 

Has run amok and kills 

Both brain and brainless; 

Spine and spineless;

Sifts and shifts and swills

The blood of many lies

Upon the tracks of time.

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Because there is no time

To cover up and paint our orange face.

It is — or was at least — a race.  

And once that banging gun

Announced the start of all this fun

Instead of pushing off against the blocks, 

With all our mighty might

And sprinting down the field in flight

Arms and heart together pumping

Like an Usain Bolt from the blue…

athletes running on track and field oval in grayscale photography

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Instead of sprinting to and through the tape

We waved our hands and shook our locks

And called this deadly fight:

“A friendly little spat — 

Well, that’s that then, I guess.”

IMG_1442

So now we face a hapless mess. 

This baseless face; this faceless base

As frivolous as a rape; 

As friendly as a shark

Who loves to leave his mark

By chopping off an arm or two

And leave you bleeding red in blue. 

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And when all is said and done, 

How did we ever think that this was all for fun? 

How did we think a clown would do

When what we needed was a bolt of blue?  

grayscale photo of woman

Photo by Oliver Sjöström on Pexels.com

An ocean of lies has made us all dimmer; 

And each of us is now a lonely swimmer

In a murky sea of unseen sharks and death.

I may see you on the other side of breath. 

Now, we must hold hands across the space

That binds us all; blinds us all; and all without a touch.

The mask is unmasked and beneath the face 

We find there’s nothing’s there. It’s all devoid and bare. 

We left so much on the gilded legless table 

Pretending the genius really was quite stable. 

 

One last chance, we have to care. 

One last chance, we have to dare

To call a spade a spade; to say what’s true.

What happens next is up to me — and up to you.

Open the shutters and throw up the sash!

Sing to each other — for each is a brother!

Don’t sweat the cash & don’t sweat the crash.

Focus on love — and love one another!  

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7551D277-6606-4C1B-9E06-5E4E44C81A64

——————————————

The Declaration of Interdependence

Who are you really? 

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What I am Doing to Stay Healthy & Prevent Spreading the Virus.

 

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