Kitabı oxu: «Poems for a Pandemic»

COPYRIGHT
William Collins
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF WilliamCollinsBooks.com This eBook first published in Great Britain by William Collins in 2020 Copyright in the poems © individual poets 2020 Copyright in this anthology © Angela Marston 2020 Cover design by Darren Smith The poets and editor assert their moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Ebook Edition © June 2020 ISBN: 9780008433550 Version: 2020-06-11
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Foreword
The Poems
Acknowledgements
About the Author
About the Publisher
FOREWORD
This is a book about superheroes. But just to be clear: I’m not one of them.
On 23 March 2020, the UK Government placed the entire country in lockdown in an attempt to reduce the impact of the coronavirus. By the 7 May over 30,000 people in Britain had died.
For two weeks in between my ex-wife and children had to self-isolate – she’s a nurse and was struck down by the virus. I did my hunter/gatherer impression and queued at the supermarket to load up with pasta and flour, diet cokes and pain pills. I pressed my hand against the window and my youngest son pressed his hand to the other side and smiled, his lip trembling, like some awful parody of prison. He was inside; but I felt like the one trapped.
I have never felt more alone.
But I was not alone. Clapping is a revolutionary act. I stood at my doorstep and cheered for our carers and felt the first fragile strands of community reaching out and making me feel connected to a world I thought was gone.
I wrote a poem about it called You Clap For Me Now, and we made a film with key workers reading it out line-by-line – each one isolated but connected. The film was selected by the United Nations as one of its global messages of solidarity and kindness. At the time of writing it has been viewed by more than 300 million people worldwide.
But most importantly it brought Angela Marston into my life.
I have never met Angela – meeting people is not the done thing in lockdown Britain – but I have spoken to her a number of times, and I can tell you that I know her. Which is something I am incredibly proud of.
Angela is a retired Palliative Care Nurse. She spent nearly 40 years in the NHS and Hospice services. She is the kind of person that, after discovering they cannot re-join the front line to care for people, finds other ways to help. Her heart is as big as a planet, and I am in awe of her.
Angela was struck down with Covid-19 symptoms and had to self-isolate in her bedroom, as her husband Phil is classed as extremely vulnerable to the virus. She locked herself away to protect her loved ones and lay alone; suffering. She says she was ‘scared I was going to die, scared I wasn’t going to see my beautiful grandchildren again, scared I wasn’t going to make it. In the early hours of my eighth day alone I lay awake, and a wave of words swept over me; and in trying to make sense of them I wrote my first poem in many years.’
At its heart poetry is about trying to express something too big for words. Fear. Loneliness. Love. Community. Death. The world threw all of them at us in one brutal instant and locked us away alone with a ream of paper and pens and said to us, here, work it out.
Angela’s health improved, and in her shoes many of us might say a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god we thought was listening and then carry on. Not Angela. She said ‘I was feeling guilty that I could not risk returning to nursing to support my old colleagues. I knew I had to do something meaningful to ease my guilt, so with no experience of publishing a book I decided to create an anthology of poems by and for key workers to raise money for NHS Charities Together.’
When a fire starts some people hide. Some people point fingers of blame. And others rush forward, eager to help put it out. This is what heroes do.
This is what Angela did. She gathered poems from nurses, doctors, teachers. From pharmacists and journalists; child protection officers and food bank volunteers. From people aged 9 to 92. From established poets and writers.
From heroes.
And by doing so she not only raised money for a valuable cause that supports NHS staff while they tackle the global pandemic. She not only shared messages of hope and understanding and grief and love with the world. She delivered a valuable collection of first-hand accounts from the front line. A glimpse of the global effort to rescue humanity from the teeth of an invisible enemy – direct from the people that don capes and masks in order to go save the world.
This is history in the making,’ she says, ‘and these poems record for all eternity the thoughts and feelings of ordinary people at an extraordinary time. I hope that in the future schools, colleges, and universities will use these poems to help students explore the stories behind the words.’
This is that anthology.
There’s no Thor in these pages. No washboard abs or laser beams. But if you look carefully between each word you will see a tiny space. That’s where the words that cannot be articulated live: words that demand a whole new dictionary to be able to accurately describe the magnitude of our gratitude and our love.
These are the spaces that my friend Angela made for us all to take a breath and say, simply: thank you. It is an incredible thing.
But then what else do you expect from a hero?
Darren Smith
May 2020
THE POEMS
Iain S. Thomas | A Brief Reminder |
Marya Layth | For Now We Are Here, Carefully |
Phil Isherwood | Dying, Not Alone |
Hollie McNish | Just a nurse |
Harry Husselbee | Trapped |
Erin Bolens | Miss Pandemic 2020 |
Elizabeth Ford | Bird’s-Eyed View |
Tom Allsopp | HOPE |
Ella Lentini | Hello, stranger. |
Sangam Malani | Dear God |
Maria Heslop | Covid positive – My day |
Lisa Anstead | The Visor is a symbol |
Karen Izod | Exhalation |
Jan Britton | The Journey of Dying |
Amanda Burston | The empty chair |
Alastair Smith | If and when |
Alex Josephy | Elderly Online Shopping for Essentials |
Wilson Oryema | I was once told |
Tyler Knott Gregson | Typewriter Series #2947 |
Angela Marston | I have one task |
Priya Ganatra | The Colours Are Bright |
Sam Payne | When the World Starts Spinning Again |
Karen Jane Brodie Sowerbutts | The flame of hope |
Laura Foley | Lockdown days |
Robin Graham | No more self-isolation with my new self solution |
Danny Campbell | We are the Kids of Covid-19 |
Cory Yeoman | Coronavirus beat! |
Gloria Wilson | Please |
Leticia Sala | The House |
Steve Boorman | Lockdown |
Patrick Mcloughlin | Maybe, Just Maybe – after Lockdown |
Mehwish Sharif | Humans are heroes too |
Lauren Garrett | Our First Loss |
Darren Smith | You Clap for Me Now |
Isla Skinner | Strange Spring |
Holly Williams | This Life |
Placido ‘Dino’ Pappalardo | The Love of a Husband Towards His Wife, a Nurse |
Bill Eden | Gladiators |
Aditi Patel-Williams | To those who never saw |
A.S.H | Before Isolation Became Buzzwordy |
Gemma Troy | Fear in Australia |
Cassie Gibson | 12th April 2020 |
J. R. Darbon | the road to growth |
Anupma Anuradha S. Parihar | The voice inside |
Jessie McDonald | I thank you |
Jackie Rowley | Saturday Shop |
Chrissie Dover | ‘And so it begins’ |
K. Towne Jr. | Power |
Jayne Watkins | Mom of a nurse |
Carol Ratcliffe | NO MORE |
Ebony Errington-Beech | Happy 100th Birthday Captain Tom Moore |
Paul Jenkins | 100 |
Jan Johnson | Captain Tom |
Louis Deegan | There was a man called Captain Tom Moore |
Jan Beaumont | Let’s All Drink to Lockdown |
Kay Roberts | A Tribute |
Linda Smith | No one could have imagined |
Zirva Khan | ‘I need you’ |
Cat Walker | Peregrine Nation May 2020 |
Jean Taun | Covid Lockdown |
Jeanette Drummond | Where are all the cars |
Nikki Sibeon | Stay home |
Andy Bassett Scott | Some may stand |
Jai Gaurangi Patel | Home |
Donna Ford | What’s for Tea? |
Kerry Lenilan | The new norm |
Adrian Hendryx | 7:04 a.m. |
Lorna Collins | The Bluebells’ Lockdown |
Lyndsey Myers | Dear World |
Caroline Evans | When all of this is over |
Lucy Bannon | Lockdown 2020 |
Paul Hogg | Lockdown |
Najwa Zebian | Now is not forever |
Riley Beattie | The Day The world Changed |
Christopher Cartwright | We Need Ter Stop In |
Terry Barker | Rain and Rainbow’s |
Liz Romaniak | New Dawn |
Robert Vas Dias | Viral Matters |
Trevor Wainwrightt | A Day in the Life of a Volunteer |
Julie Crabtree | The change in 2020 |
Mandy Jones | A long way in China |
David Gilbert | We Will Remember Such |
Lloyd Whiteley | The coughing man |
Eleanor Ford | The Debate |
Dominic O’Reilly | Cold and the Warm |
Donna Thomas | Being a Nurse |
Laura Husselbee | Another Day |
Emily Brooke | Here’s to us… |
Harry Baker | When This Is Over |
Tara Warren | The Invisible War |
Vicki Smart | We Came Together to Stay Apart |
Abigail Warburton | All the things we will do… |
Hannah Hillier | After Darkness Comes Sun |
Rowena Jones | Maybe on the other side |
Rob Simpson | When Tomorrow Comes |
Sylvina Tate | April Rebirth |
Chris Newman | What future do we choose? |
Phoebe Sophire Cooper | The Passing of Hours |
Shadi Badiemansour | Life is like a song |
Poonam Lumb | You’re Not Alone |
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.