Archive for the ‘Coronavirus’ Category

Coronavirus Time   3 comments

Kenne Self-protrate art blog IIIImage by kenne

I am an old man
Each day sheltering in place
The damage is done.

Early morning walks
Many new walkers pass by
No stopping to talk.

Coronavirus
Still on a stubborn plateau
We fight off the stress.

In a new normal
Public places restricted
Times are abnormal.

Zoom and Facetime
The way we stay connected
Your time is my time.

— kenne

A Pandemic Picture   3 comments

See ItImage by kenne

see this picture

a pandemic picture

not really

it’s not clear

so little information

not able to reason

observation void

or is it

some will reason

based on blind faith

indifferent to the truth

yet people believe

it is the truth

rather than asking

is it the truth

coronavirus exist

fed on indifference

to the truth

prompt with careless moods

minus the circumstances

left to question

only at death

a pandemic where

warriors stand

and truth died in

presidential updates

no longer accepting

only asking

is it the truth

— kenne

I Don’t Hear America Singing   3 comments

Clouds Social Distancing-72Tucson Clouds Social Distancing — Image by kenne

In ‘I Hear America Singing’ Walt Whitman was celebrating the various songs of his fellow Americans singing as they go about the work: the mechanics, the carpenter, the mason, the boatman, the deckhand, the shoemaker, the hatter, the wood-cutter, the ploughboy, the mother, the ‘young wife at work’, the seamstress or washerwoman.

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs

The coronavirus has pushed the mute button, silencing our singing and only we can bring it back when again we will hear America Singing,

— kenne

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