By Tina Cathleen MacNaughton
Grubby, disregarded mask thrown
carelessly onto filthy pavement,
landed appropriately enough
next to a steaming pile of dog shit.
I note, not without bitterness,
that this sadly says it all.
As if a rectangle of blue plastic
with strings and a squirt of
antiseptic was ever going
to be enough.
Yet smirking politicians
pat their own backs
in congratulation of the prick,
hopefully the saviour of the world.
They smile, spineless, shameless,
as For Sale signs are
erected and businesses close.
Refusing to be accountable,
whilst braying Opposition barely
squeaks in protest.
Mismanaged and confused
we sit and wait …
for something.
My name is Tina MacNaughton.
Publications include
‘When the elves rescued Christmas’ (WriteRhymes, 2020)
‘On the Shoulders of Lions’ (Choir Press, 2021).
Poems feature on Portsmouth Literary Map https://litmap.nautoguide.com/
I was at a low point with everything to do with the pandemic – the Government’s handling of the situation, my business (I am an Acupuncturist) and had to shut down for three months, the use and waste of so much plastic and the effect on the environment, the carelessness and disregard of some people. Not a good day, but it was somewhat relieved by writing it all down as is often the way! Thank God for poetry.
Generally, I have been pretty positive during the pandemic – writing poems for and supporting my shielding patients, sending poems to local newspapers to boost community spirit and posting prolifically on social media.
Together with my illustrator friend, I wrote, published and sold out a covid Christmas fairytale narrative poem. I then put all the poems I had written over lockdown together and published a collection with The Choir Press. I did a radio interview with BBC Berkshire (on my website) promoting the reading and writing of poetry as therapy during the pandemic and any other crisis.
I firmly believe poetry has a place in helping with mental health.
Yes! Beautifully symbolises the absorption and denial of Covid, by a public who do not face and challenge the handling of it.
I saw exactly that just today, discarded and forgotten. Those poo bags hang around forever too until one person decides to act. A very true poem.