Pandemic Pantoum

Tediously familiar, each déjà vu
I pile them slowly, brick by brick
Morning espresso, evening beer for two
Listening to metered time, tick, tick, tick

I pile them slowly, brick by brick
Morning coffee and oatmeal for two,
Listening to metered time, tick, tick, tick
My daughter is gifting me a colorful mask, whoo!

Morning coffee and oatmeal for two,
Daydreaming of when there’s no fear of the sick.
My daughter is gifting me a colorful mask, whoo!
Did the first two months of the Pandemic

Daydreaming of when there’s no fear of the sick.
Spring is here but little left to do.
Did the first two months of the Pandemic
Buying cheap gas, $2.19, whoo hoo!

Spring is here but little left to do.
May not see it again, so fill it up quick
Buying cheap gas, $2.19, whoo hoo
What about watching tonight a chick flick?

May not see it again, so fill it up quick.
Pudgy little fingers and a delightful coo.
What about watching tonight a chick flick?
I hear, I see, “chirp chirp,” “bark,” but no moo.

Pudgy little fingers and a delightful coo.
Princess Tabitha’s claws click click click.
I hear, I see, “chirp chirp,” “bark,” but no moo.
She said, “it’s a nice pick.”

Princess Tabitha’s claws click click click.
Morning espresso, evening beer for two.
She said, “it’s a nice pick.”
Tediously familiar, each déjà vu.

Original prompt: Write two lines of poetry, one with an -ick ending and one with an -ooh ending, to piece together into a pantoum.

by Natalie Champion, Gudelia Vaden, Nan Friedley, Juanita Mantz, Debby Johnson, Dar Stone, Barbara Berg, Burcu Misirli Chatham,

Of the Senses this Nonsense Make a Kind of Mind

The poet said “Slam”, while jammers jammed and jammed.
Sally said “stop” but the drum drummed on
Punk rock python pranced and danced
while crawling to The Cramps

Dizzy drunken dotards downed
a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts.
Dragons, tails sagging, lagging
and lollygagging behind wagons

Megalomaniacal megalodon
Dim sum bok choy kuey teow right now.
The dog jumped over the moon
while the cat ticked off the spoon

Frogs find fly fishing fabulous fun!
Hogs and dogs swimming with frogs in bogs
Think pink wink zinc blink drink then sink, link?
Lint, splints, and raspberry blintzes are good.

Vessels wrestle, then settle in nests
I hope to soon see a cornucopia of my gardens delights.
Zero the Zithersmith, perched on a precipice,
plucked with flourish as his melody floated on a zephyr.

Milo Morris jumped over Princess Tabitha and she flew out the window
She shot out like a rocket!
Huffing puffing power walker,
masked neighborhood stalker.

There’s death! To sling the wish’d coil awry,
and spurn not a pale contumely calamity.
Orotund rebounders don
haute couture before going boating.

Original prompt: Write a line of poetry with an emphasis on the sound and not the meaning.

Juanita E. Mantz Pelaez, Rose Y. Monge, Sharon Sekhon, Robin Longfield, Rob McMurray, Julianna M. Cruz, Douglas McCulloh, Natalie Champion, Becca Spence Dobias, Frances T. Borella, Nan Friedley, Joseph Milazzo, Debby Johnson, Steve Perry, Dar Stone, Gudelia Vaden, Kamelyta Noor, Barbara Berg, Raine Lefaivre-Naggi

At Home in the World: A Haiku Chain

The city below
Wind dancing with bleached clouds
Squirrel on the wall

A black-eyed junco singing
Come, come outside why don’t you
Please do not tempt me

Glorious bird songs
Floating in on soft breezes
Lift my heart with joy

The scent of blue blooms
Is heady and thick, like sage
I know I’m not sick

It is still gray dawn
I go walk and see no one
Just me and song birds

Snail shell mobile home
Gastropod revs the engine
Marks a slimy path

Tree, you are tangled
Branches leaning, white and gray
Lifting bough, blue lid

A tall palm trunk
Hugged tight by a grapevine
One grows, one not

The egret looks white
Long beak searching for water
In my back yard pond

A lonesome red rose
Seduces me with fragrance
Soothing my senses

Spring green grass reaches
A golden summer moment
Already knowing

Cascading pink sage
Climbing iceberg rose in bloom
Wind scattered ashes

Birds perching in peace
Children laugh very loudly
Kitchen smells so good

From my red armchair
A profusion of roses
Through water-stained glass

Original prompt: Write a haiku

Kamelyta Noor, Robin Longfield, Steve Perry, Frances T. Borella, Rose Y. Monge, Gudelia Vaden, Burcu Misirli Chatham, Barbara Berg, Nan Friedley, Dar Stone, Natalie Champion,
Debby Johnson, Kris Lovekin, Cati Porter

“Why Does Everyone Hate Me?,” an Exclusive Interview with Cyrus Coronavirus

Cyrus Coronavirus was
an ordinary, average virus
living in an ordinary, average
body, but one day he decided
he’d like to see the world.

Being a tiny fellow he clung
to the threads of wind
as they moved past, landing
every so often on an
unsuspecting human. He may be
a tiny speck but he was
quite friendly, and determined
to meet as many people as possible.

He flitted and floated, then
wafted and wandered.
He sailed in the wind, so
he could hover and linger.

Inquiring minds want to know: How did you travel so far so fast?

“I used to live in bats. I got tired
of caves. People would be
more interesting but things just didn’t
work out. People are so paranoid.”

“Bat to bat to bat. My fly-by-night life
spent in the comforting warmth
of chiroptera guano and spit.
Yet, like every virus, my soul stirs
with a yearning to jump, to take leap
of faith, to… Hey, I wonder where
that guy is going. Crown me, Baby!”

There a lot of unanswered questions. How did you wind up here?

“Yeah yeah. People are so judgmental,
they want to place all the blame on me,
I can’t help it if they don’t wash their hands.”

[Deadpan:] “I am Coronavirus.
I am a silent, creeping plague
coming to get you. Run, run
as fast as you can!”

“But first, an alibi. How to begin—
by bat in Wuhan? A misstep in a laboratory?
A cruise ship, or an air voyage? Replicate
and float in the air like dandelion seeds?
Muddied, muddled possibilities make
for silent, secret travels. Chaos and confusion,
my advance men; death, a heavy angel
behind me, and within me, its breath
fueling me on— such sustenance
for a long, long journey.
Oh, oh, the places to go!”

“I might be here and there,
everywhere, but remember,
all because of you,
my first host was a wild animal
came too close to people
because of you,
and I just jumped over
as I always do…”

I understand you have been coping with a lot of hidden biases…

[Snarkily:] “Watch out for me for I’m the unseen
Don’t get too close I am COVID 19.
Don’t wash your hands, wearing a mask just won’t do
Because I’m COVID 19 and I’m coming for you!”

“Here comes the nasty virus,
better be careful, he doesn’t discriminate,
you can be beautiful, young or old.
He’s like the big bad wolf!
Hurry, run as fast as you can!”

“Young ladies laying on the beach beware
You certainly get the men to stare
Virus-like a ghost
Looking for a host
That’s something you do not want to share.”

“I’m a tiny tim virus, but I attack like a bandit,
robbing and killing my host. Be very afraid
of me. I will get you if you let your
mask down. “Danger Will Danger!”

I detect some sarcasm here. How would you prefer to be remembered?

“Think of me as that hunky, popular guy
in high school. I made you feel too weak
to resist, hot all over and took your breath
away. Just this time, I didn’t give it back.”

[Deep sigh:] “I am COVID-19! I’m tiny but mighty!
I’m your uninvited squatter.
My super power is to haunt you
day and night. But can you give me
a break? Didn’t I bring you together
with your family, friends and community?
Cherish those moments! When I say
adieu, remember my lessons. Don’t
take anyone or anything for granted!“

I understand that you can’t speak for all, but what would your brethren say?

“We’d love to take a bow or three,
but for the fact we’re too small to see.”

Any final thoughts?

“Please have sympathy, I implore,
it’s always such a chore
to move from host to host
when the last one could give no more.”

“Why is everyone so mad at me?
I’m just doing my job.”

“Drat! Lysol.”

Original prompt: Write from the perspective of the novel coronavirus

Thomas Vaden, Robin Longfield, Rose Y. Monge, Burcu Misirli Chatham, Nan Friedley, Juanita E. Mantz Pelaez, Debby Johnson, James Luna, Frances T. Borella, Gudelia Vaden, Dar Stone Natalie Champion, Cati Porter, Barbara Berg, Douglas McCulloh, Rick Champion, Raine Lefaivre-Naggi, Becca Spence Dobias

Generations

It’s not like this hasn’t
happened before
The “Spanish” flu pandemic
during the first World War

Pandemic, Spanish flu,
coronavirus. it’s designed
to sicken and potentially
destroy us

A mask can transform, disguise,
conceal, and amuse, It also
offers hope, strength,
and protection for a nation’s rebirth

People wearing gloves and masks
afraid of silent, creeping plague
A mask for protection,
a task for correction

We need to post No Spitting
signs like in 1918 Spanish flu
or pass out spittoons.
You spit, I kick

1919 panic touted
ingesting Turpo, akin
to today’s Lysol vitriol
Pass me the Vapo Rub!

The mother of all pandemics,
along with her naughty children
Hankies in hand,
treatments without a cure

Look at online museum for inspiration: https://museum.aarc.org/galleries/influenza-pandemic/

Juanita E. Mantz Pelaez, Gudelia Vaden, Kamelyta Noor, Natalie Champion, Debby Johnson, Thomas Vaden, Frances J. Vasquez, Dar Stone

Another Day in Paradise Quarantine

Saturday morning need to go to the grocery store
(Good food)
Then come home to mop my kitchen floor.
(Puts me in a good mood.)

An Italian cannoli is found only in my dreams
(Waiting, hoping, wishing for some answers,)
With cherries, chocolate and sweet ricotta cream.
(Yet not getting from any sources.)

I need me some chicken taco
(Sometimes I scream without a sound)
So I can dance A-go-go with a bongo!
(Picasso would be oh so proud)

Turning on her favorite alternative radio station,
(I know that I am running late.)
She wonders what will happen to the state of the nation
(I am blaming it on the State.)

Oh to dance and prance—
(Sunny Saturday, still we stay inside,)
Got any Lysol by chance?
(except maybe for a walk, or a ride)

Sunny day in the lovely city
(I sit alone outside, except for my dog)
Sitting in the living room with my lovely kitty
(A book, warm sun, goodbye quarantine fog)

Taking this day for creative endeavors
(My first painting class starts promptly at two)
Soaking up sunshine and the perfect weather
(Says ‘black canvas’ called for, hope white will do.)

Original prompt: Two lines of ten syllables that rhyme, and maybe involve food.

by Debby Johnson, John DiFusco, Frances T. Borella, Natalie Champion, Barbara Berg, Burcu Misirli Chatham, Cati Porter, Gudelia Vaden, Rick Champion, Frances J. Vasquez, Juanita E. Mantz Pelaez, Janine Pourroy Gamblin, Dar Stone, Kamelyta Noor

Schrodinger’s Banana

Yellow banana from Southern lands
how did you end up in my hands?

Yellow banana, your life ended,
sunny disposition befriended.

Banana. You look so sweet, you hang
so nice. If I was wise, I’d eat you.

Monoculture leaves hunger hanging.
I hung ten but I ate nine!

The yellow delicious banana is so
tasty it flows in your mouth magically.

Why am I all by myself here, while
I still have days to live? Open too soon,

a cracking stem shows your youth. Wait too late,
brown spots and sweet ripeness brings mature truths.

My ripe hunger is suspended, a yellow
forgetfulness. Platano, platano

(banana), how did you get here? Ready
for me to eat. Swing low sweet banana

waiting for to feed me tonight. Safely
quarantining away from my usual

bunch. On the hook, we’re all responsible
for what happens next; we’re all bananas

here. Banana by any other name
is still banana. No matter which way

you hang it. Afraid, yet optimistic,
clinging to hope, not ready to slip from

my skin. I am undone by my own brilliance
once again—my leap of self preservation

has led to this—ever so slowly, my skin
will brown, then blacken—someone may take

notice of the flies, the sweet stickiness
of the floor below. All was revealed

to me, as I descended the conveyor
belt from the boat, so far from home. My sweet

reach touches metal, my warmth sizzles against
cool. Millimeter by millimeter

my pale skin loosens. I hold still until.
Too anxious to find out if its taste will

be like a forgotten candy from
a Halloween so long ago or so

overly ripe that it would make fruit flies
dizzy, I’ll hang Schrodinger’s banana

here. A spacey shopper abandoned me.
His sweater is in a bowl by the sink.

Original prompt: Ekphrasis after an image from Rattle.com to be entered for their ekphrastic poetry contest.

by Debby Johnson, Robin Longfield, Barbara Berg, Frances J. Vasquez, Ai Miyamoto Kelley, Nan Friedley, Rob McMurray, Natalie Champion, Cati Porter, Dar Stone, Joseph Milazzo, Gudelia Vaden, Thomas Vaden, Rick Champion, Robert Merrill, Rakhi Shelat, Cindi Neisinger, Burcu Misirli Chatham

Are We There Yet?

We question our future, when, where, how?
We question everything? An interrogation?
Questioning reality, questioning the questions?
How can we continue with the monotony of this existence?
Are our urges now without frontiers?
Much posturing and pandering; let’s discern what’s true, no?
When will we get answers to our questions?
Is this impossible and inevitable?
Is this a nightmare? Perhaps just a figment of my imagination?
Dreams are just destiny and luck? Follow your dreams?
Are dreams fluff and mist, or just beyond our fingertips?
Is this pain in my chest a lonely heart or a symptom of something else?
I can see love, but when will I feel loves connection??
Why not be happy now?
Will our tomorrows bring more sighs and sadness or joy and cheers?
I know the past, but what will this new day bring?
When will my old endings become my new beginnings?
If we question all the answers, how will we answer any question?
Does everything I write have to be profound, or is there room for irreverence?
We’re all Scots now with upward inflection?
What time is the Seniors’ Early entry Line at Trader Joe’s?
Why am I hungry all day all the time?????
Enjoying the lovely spring weather in San Francisco,
but wondering when this pandemic will end?

Original prompt: One line of poetry ending on a question?

Frances J. Vasquez, Rakhi Shelat, Natalie Champion, John DiFusco, Rose Y. Monge, Barbara Berg, Burcu Misirli Chatham, Cati Porter, Rick Champion, Juanita E. Mantz Pelaez, Nan Friedley, Magdalena Nunez, Debby Johnson, Kamelyta Noor, Gudelia Vaden, Tom Vaden, Dar Stone, Rob McMurray, Raine Lefaivre-Naggi, Ai Miyamoto Kelley, Cindy Bousquet Harris, Joseph Milazzo, Frances T. Borella

Remember, Mother Earth

Remember 10 years old,
standing on frozen lake, looking
up, The Big Dipper, a vast
cracking sound echo’s through
woods. Earth speaks

Remember when Ontario
was full of vineyards,
when the orange trees reigned
in Riverside, and remember
the Joshua Trees, looking
up to blue sky

Remember summer
days in the 80’s
when Mt. Baldy was
a fuzzy outline behind
a smoggy veil

Remember Greta
Thunberg, when she
yelled, “How dare you!”

Remember when we
planted a tree from seeds
and now it has grown tall
and beautiful

Remember when I purchased
six mini Xmas trees
on sale; today
they are beautiful
mature Rosemary bushes

Remember humans, dear
Mother Earth gives
us everything we
need to survive, though
at times we forget
a little bit when we
should be grateful

Remember when
the air was fresh and
the oceans were clean
because people were
sheltering in place

Remember the ocean’s
kisses, lapping
waves erasing
your footsteps in the sand

Remember that you are
but a comma in
the history of the planet

Born naked from the womb
of Mother Earth, we are
nurtured with her blessings
and gifts of life-giving
waters, the air we breathe
all under the warmth
of Father Sky.

Remember, Mother Earth
reminds us we are
the caregivers of our
children’s future.

Handle accordingly.

Original prompt: A line inspired by Earth Day, beginning with the word, “remember”.

Tom Vaden, Cati Porter, John DiFusco, Dar Stone, Gudelia Vaden, Cindi Neisinger, Juanita E. Mantz Pelaez, Nan Friedley, Debby Johnson, Magdalena Nunez, Frances T. Borella

Locked-up

Purring, fluffy, snuggly, felines, Milo and Princess, comfort me
Sipping cinnamon and lemon infused water at home

Pink Moon

Glowing, shimmery moon
Says it’s gonna get better
Just you wait
Sunny days are coming
Smiles in the moonlight
Hands reaching out
Holding hands span the globe
The worldwide pandemic
Now ended
Peace surrounds us
For we are the survivors,
The endurers,
The peacemakers
Forever more

Missionary Church

Eight mourn,
Silent plague creeping,
Seeping through veins,
Unbeknownst
Legal order “shelter in place,”
Too late for some,
Death takes toll,
Silent poll,
Angels watch.

Sign of the Pandemic

It’s surreal walking down lonely streets
People wearing gloves and masks
Afraid of the silent, creeping plague
Thinking it’s only a matter of time
Social distancing everyone must do
Foolish people party at beaches
Spreading silent death amongst the masses
Please, please stay home and save lives
People don’t you get it?