To a scientist who doesn’t like metaphor
Ask the crankshaft
The weary molecule.
Ask disease if he has heard of Shakespeare.
Ask those familiar ribbons, blue and red
If they look back
Those eyes, now much overcome
With depiction of the virus, with arm and leg.
It is not a living thing, he pleads
It is not dead,
As if it is time he is talking about
Or a zombie.
Into this brew, he brings particles in a jingle box.
Scans with waves and waves of white.
The moon is just lunar crater.
No hare or old grey face there, even in stormy weather.
Mars steams no red tea, Jupiter is no wiser
Saturn has no rings of fire.
Even us, more brown than blue,
Named earth not aqua for unknown reason
Has no more elbow room.
Who holds his handrail firm against the wind
What a monster looks like.
How the crown gives it a name.
How there were eighteen more who came before it.
— Amlanjyoti Goswami
Coping Mechanisms in the Times of Corona
Exercise with simple home equipment
before it assumes equipment
assumes a home
Work from home
Sneaking out for a walk
takes for granted a place to sneak back in
Simple recipes to try on your own
need a stove and cooking oil,
and veggies someone has grown,
Learning a new skill
Keep stimulating your brain
Taking a new course
all need leisure
Finding pleasure in solitude
somehow still, despite all promises, and luck,
needs a full stomach
— Akhil Katyal
Lockdown verse, as the name suggests, is a series consisting of poems introspecting, examining and reflecting on the times we are living in. The poets have very generously agreed to share their hitherto unpublished works. For this week, we have one poem from Amlanjyoti Goswami and the other from Akhil Katyal, a poet and queer activist.
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