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Pandemic, May 2021

lonely faces covered with masks

looking out with fearful eyes

streets void of people

locked behind empty walls

from my window I can see

the child who wants to be free

mother earth is breathing

while humans are in captivity

it took a pandemic to wake us up

but in no time, it’ll be forgotten history

we’ll get back to consumption and greed

to killing, hoarding and abs...

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In Dock

never heard her weep out loud before

hard to believe she loves me so much

they called her in for this one last time

no kisses allowed or a hint of a touch


lonely years and empty days before that

vision of blue eyes and short red dress,

the night fate put me on the right path

ending years of drift and its futile mess


takes a lot to kill love but I did my best


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Hypocrite Society

I’m a poet

but nobody knows

there is a depth in me

that rarely shows


the man that you can see

is only a fraction of the whole me

under the surface

a place so vast

I couldn’t describe it

even if you’d ask

words are just not up to the task

so, I hide behind my mask


and you?
I would like to know you

but it’s hard for me to see through

‘cause y...

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Masks And Whiskers

half-dead they do linger

machines tinkle and purr

medics swathed in plastic

distressed humans a-stir


beneath ICU wards and

amid odd cavities galore

smaller fauna breathes

distant the muffled roar


who considers the mice?

they live in hospital too

a big enough challenge

without this virus stew


if you listened carefully

on dozing wards at night


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Sick Santa

social distancing scorned

masks impede his beard

visor scares the reindeer

spooking as he steered


medics shave his whiskers

off with red festive attire

reindeer pining for Santa

cough softly at their byre


tube down Santa's chimney

no more season's greetings

in a coma Christmas begets

few hale or hearty meetings


drones take Santa's place

icy pla...

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Needles Under The Tree

History will wash its hands of 2020

Wuhan bats and disposable masks,

Just another year in human annals

Fodder for future historians' tasks


Who'd have thought it a year ago?

A holocaust of innocent old dears

Lockdowns and social distancing

I always felt it would end in Tiers


Hand gel and hissing ventilators

Dodgy oxygen levels all the rage,

Vulnerable citizen...

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What Became Of That Poor Girl?

Nothing could stop what we did

Alchemy dictates its conclusion,

Tangled in an urgent chemistry

Physically desperate for fusion


What became of that poor girl?

Hiding those scars on her wrist

Bruises like plates on her back

Her lips in pain when we kissed


A freshers' conference is wild

Or used to be in olden times

Before masks and distancing

And other anti-...

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Covers face

Unknown eyes watching

Religious tolerance found wanting




Double standards

Stops the spread

Of disease and death


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Giant girders bent and burnt and

Crushed fire engines daunt the

Halls of the museum at Albany N.Y. the

Monumental fossils of

9/11 but what will be the

Bones of war with small fry that

Flew poker-faced into the side of our souls?

After the cover-ups and cock-ups and shifty politics and

Constructive euthanasia and

Plastic heroes what

Glorious moraine can grinding folly ...

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Masks We Wear

Do we wear a mask or a facade?

Do we disguise who we really are?

Do we laugh or joke or wear a smile?

Though inside we suffer all that while?


Should we say that we are always fine?

Or tell what is really on our mind?

Are we afraid of being judged?

Or that we shall be misunderstood?


Should we keep our troubles to ourselves?

And have no one around to offer help?


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Stuart VannerMasksPersonalityFacades

I See You

I see you there; hiding

Behind layers of an icy stare,

Lurking in the shadows of a wicked wit,

Peeking from behind your "I don't give a shit".


I see you there;


Alone and bare.

Thinking no-one

In the world

Will ever care.


But I see you

And, I do.

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