Rainbows Behind Glass: A Lockdown Anthology

New Hope There is hope, you need to prepare! Learn something new. If you dare! Reflect on life, read more books. Write out loud, be more proud! Keep a journal, take stock of yourself. And keep fit, get those weights off the shelf. Eat only good things, be mindful, relax. Listen to advice, do not worry about facts! Sleep well, set goals, keep lists, get a cat. Get up on your feet, you look a bit fat. Write poetry, sit up a tree. Find some time, be all solitary. Finish a video game, learn a new skill. Clear the garden, get an outdoor grill. Jump up and down, stare into space. Have a staring competition, do not move your face! Say something funny in the middle of the night. Cook a lovely meal, mid-week, date night! You have plenty of time, in fact that is all you have got. This time will not last forever so do not just sit there and rot! RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 101

Two Metres Two metres. Two hundred centimetres. Six point five six feet. Is around three times the number. Of pairs of shoes, near me, in the street. Two metres. Is around Two point one nine yards. Wanting a hug, needing, a hug. Am I the only one finding this hard? Two metres. Dare I say, Just over a fathom. In the water I try to swim, But for all the wailing of my arms, I cannot swim for Adam. Zero point zero, Zero one, of a mile. A prolonged stare, a curious smile. I stand in wonder, what could this be? Could it be this human, actually noticed, me? So, there is now one distance, That gives me the hope. That makes this lockdown sweeter. And that is when social distance is done. I may finally get to meet her. 102 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

My Bed Somewhere in between, the night and the day. Is a moment where I am me; the best me, I would say. Half-dream, half-awake, full of hope and no mistake. The sombre dawn pause, reveals me, my moment to wake. The cool of the air, through the windows breeze. The warmth of the bed, a few more minutes tease. The tick of a clock marks the passing of time. I would say in that moment, that I am perfect, just fine. And then, in a beat, it is the start of the day. Up and away, to live my life my way. I take solace in the fact that if growth becomes decay, That a new mornings dawn is just hours away. The best place I can think of is the safety of my bed. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. My safe space, my respite, the bank of my tears. I have invested very heavily over the last few years. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 103

Time Is A Healer Time’s a great healer. Really, what a crock. Time’s good for nothing, ‘cept in cuckoo clocks. Reaching deep inside, stirring up below, Demons bubble up, teasing things they know. Contaminated, feeling hurt sometimes. Feeling is healing, digging deep in grime. Hour by hour, needing a shower, Minute by minute, reeking deep in it. Buried in layers, the stench makes me sick, The secrets so deep, their lies, are so thick. Exhausted, push on. Extorted, put on. Tick tock, cuckoo clock. Tick tock, tick tock, tock. Nowhere in the world, would I rather be, Than up to my knees, stained by all that I see. Push it back inside, keep it locked away, Does this help healing? Back away, I say. Buried with reason, digging is treason, What good has it done? Maybe next season. Flee little birdie, Coo your little coo, Come back this way soon, I have more secrets for you. 104 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Kindness Kith and Kin, forgives our sin. I becomes we, for the world to see. Night and day, are equally bright. Deeds not words, measure our light. No magic here, what you see is what you get. Every day is the gift we must never forget. Sowing a seed of kindness, grows a true friend. Staying true, Staying open, Staying you, is all that matters in the end. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 105

Thank You Carers Man down, woman down, everybody down. Knockdown in the lockdown. A hoe down in the showdown. Key workers gown as they head into town. Facedown for the low-down. Slow down as we dumb-down. Stay indoors, go outside, do not go into town. Shops close, uptown. Downtown falls down. Weeks pass by, turn those frowns upside down. Up at night, breakfast in an eggcup. Tidy up, dress-up, make up, heads up. Kids up, grown up, who is asleep, who stays up? Homework follow-up. Go for a walk, buttercup. Clapping outside, build up the back-up. Wake up, warm-up, push up, speed up. Back to school, back to life, stand up for the line-up. Weeks pass by, we survived. Thank you for stepping up. 106 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Freedom Brew Hey! Hi! How are you? Good, and you? We are all fine, how have you been? We are all great, what have you seen? Not much, been stuck at home? Tell me, how have the kids grown? Did you see us online? No, I just did not have the time. Did you stock up on loo roll, may I ask? No, but when going out, I now wear a mask! Fancy a brew? Maybe, just us two? Oh, that would be grand! Do we sit or should we stand? We could meet up at mine, If you are free sometime? Bring your gloves and maybe your mask. And keep your distance, not a big task. But you are not in my bubble. We really should not risk the trouble. But maybe next time? In the meantime, let me Uber a bottle of wine. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 107

Back To Reality Summer 2020, washing on a line. Why do I bother? I am in my pyjamas all the time. I joined a writing circle, Learning poetry; trying to rhyme. Squash is all gone, beer is all gone. I even finished all the wine. I got online. Webcam and ‘mic. I need to learn to talk, not shout. Lean back, lean forward, be myself, Plenty of time to figure this thing out. It’s good for my soul to let the words flow. Invest in myself, I will reap what I sow! Tapping out prose. A line at a time. Digging deep inside. Hanging it all on the line. Finding a bubble. A safe space online. A Saturday morning, kindred spirits, gifted time. The cursor blinks, I stare at the screen. The world wants to know. But for these words I have paid a price, And my credit is running low. There is, I am afraid, more buried here. More than you should know. Whilst I can, until my credit expires, I will… 108 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

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ELIZABETH JOY (She/Her) Elizabeth has been writing poems since a child and is rediscovering her voice. Her poems are reflective of a journey, but also an arrival. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 111

C-19 I With pneumonia. She Brought me cough lozenges And pineapple. I Was grey. She Was yellow with sunshine And sunflower smiles. I Quiet in voice. She Spoke oxygen And blew the fog away. 112 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Illness Today my ribs ache and hurt, From coughing This new and continuous. Yesterday I tickled both my tonsils, For the sake Of can I go out to work. Got to keep the economy going. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 113

Recovery Let the air breathe And fill my lungs With ease and liberty. Let life expand And soak up new, Unhindered and agile. Let me restore And bring release, Rebirth from confinement. 114 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Lockdown Haiku I rub my tonsils Collect some RNA; and Await the result. Ill with this dammed thing My breath struggling, heart fast. Still here and thankful. Vet in a car park, A bizarre consultation. My cat unimpressed. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 115

I Am Restricted I am trapped by this lockdown. It sends me back To a life where I did my best, But my best was never good enough. Where I wasn’t allowed out Without the risk of catching aggro and grief. Where I masked myself to catch the words Of truth so they couldn’t be aired. Where I sanitised myself to an uprightness Acceptable in a public glare. Where my hidden heart beat fast And my body craved to be set free. 116 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Grounded I am grateful as I wake For the sunrise and bird song, And I know I am Planted on this planet. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 117

Lockdown Heatwave I am of days scorched by sunshine and isolation, Warming my skin but empty from human touch. I long for the embrace of rain to feel alive again. To be drenched in another and soaked through to skin. This summer is parched and long, and my longing Is held in the stillness of fiery hot air, Waiting to be breached by the arrival of a storm. 118 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

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CLAIRE G.M BENSON (She/Her) A 31-year-old woman from Malvern. I have used writing poetry as a way of coping with my mental health. I am excited for having my work published in this book, and I want to say a massive ‘Thank you’ to Holly Winter-Hughes for making this possible. You have helped me gain confidence and kept me going whilst fighting Covid. Hope you enjoy this amazing book, filled with work from talented writers. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 121

I Can’t Breathe I can’t breathe An invisible weight keeps me from breathing I feel claustrophobic My own body like a cage I’m alone I’d heard what Covid could do to your body Is this it? Is this how I meet my end? I want my Mum I want my Dad I hope my loved ones know I love them Who will take care of my cat? My body weak Not even being able to pick up the phone and speak It’s hot in this house My head burning up A luke warm shower A fan Paracetamol Nothing will bring my temperature down My heart’s missing beats Is that because I’m worried? I wish I could catch my breath My lungs hurt I need a cuddle I need someone to tell me that everything will be ok How long will this go on for? Will I need to go to hospital? The cough is getting more frequent I’m so exhausted Weeks have gone by I don’t feel as hot today My heart feels like it’s beating normally again My breathing feels a little easier My cough has disappeared Walking to the bathroom and kitchen feels a little easier I think I am going to be ok I am going to ok 122 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

These Four Same Walls Same surroundings Having lived here for a while Only now do I notice the intricate details within the room How the picture I love so dear Is positioned too far to the right And if you squint your eyes you can see where the magnolia seeps through the missed bit of ‘Ice Grey’ that took its place These four same walls Are feeling more enclosed every day The longer to pandemic goes on for I reckon I’ll soon be able to touch either side of the walls with my hands It’s like living in a prison cell And the only release day is on a Thursday whilst standing on the doorstep and clapping the NHS and keyworkers These four same walls, they may feel claustrophobic And they make me want to paint and decorate But they are safe, they are warm, and I have a home. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 123

Isolation The house feels like an empty stage, It’s like looking at a book with a blank page, The feeling of so much to do, so much to say, Yearning to pass the time of day. Zoom is the new way of communication, You can still see people and have a conversation, But it can be lonely when you live on your own, All I can say, is thank goodness for the phone. The only time you see someone is when you order your food online, You’d love to talk to them for longer, but you know they haven’t got time, You feel yourself getting excited when the postman’s at the door, But you know you won’t see them when the letter hits the floor. It’s nice to hear others cheering on a Thursday for the NHS, Although as the weeks go on, the cheers seem less and less, A Thursday is a good day, as after the NHS claps I do Jay’s quiz, Most of the questions are quite easy, some leave me in a tizz, Saturdays are my favourite, when I join our ‘Standing Proud’ group, Its lovely to hear such beautiful words, and to be kept in the loop. 124 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Lockdown Longing to see loved ones near and far Opening our eyes to what really is important Communication has adapted to the pandemic Kindness being spread amongst the community Deaths soaring as the pandemic continues Our priorities changing We unite in this time of need NHS and Keyworkers are our heroes RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 125

The Pandemic Boris Johnson announces the news That a pandemic is coming our way, Panic sets in as I stare at the screen, Not knowing what to say. A lockdown is imminent He addresses the TV, Should I be worried? Should I be scared? I suppose we will just have to wait and see. Boris waffles on the TV some more, I don’t really take in what he says, Something about he’s preparing for lockdown, Which will happen in a matter of days. 126 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

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STEVE J. MARTIN (He/Him) Steve lives with his husband Chris, their three chickens and their cat Tiny, who is definitely the one in charge. In his day job he works for a local housing charity, and during lockdown has been working from home. He hadn’t tried creative writing since leaving school before Standing Proud started in February and has been enjoying this new creative outlet. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 129

Before Memories of going to work How much seeing friends and colleagues meant How little I appreciated it. So quick the change Working now with four chickens to my left, A sleeping cat to my right. I think I’ll go upstairs now I need to see another human being. 130 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Waist I let my waist expand Such a waste of former effort I must reign it in RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 131

Archaeological Dig We started the dig early and it wasn’t long before we reached the strata consistent with the early 21st Century. The building we found, we suspect, was used to store junk before its final disposal elsewhere. There were many items from earlier periods, Bakelite pieces filled with valves and wires, and piles of kitchen equipment spread across two rooms. Traces of leather, wood and metal, along with padding materials of some man-made fibre, also indicate furniture was stored in several of the rooms. The wood pulp against every wall was probably literature at one point, now too far decomposed to give any further clue as to its use. Some items indicated this place was in use during the COVID-19 pandemic of 2020. Disposable gloves and surgical masks littered the place, still not decomposed after so many years. How these waste materials were finally processed after storage at this unit is something we have yet to determine. Maybe the people of the 21st century never worked out what to do with it all. 132 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

The Pride That Never Was We marched, but only in our heads Our festival view Framed 16 x 9 We danced, but only in our heads The music plays Through computer audio We hugged, but only in our heads Friends still seen Thanks only to the tech This loneliness, is only in my head I still feel Pride And I can still reach out RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 133

Nic’s Birthday Me: Hi Nic: Hi, so good to see you in the flesh! Me: Yes, finally! It seems so long. Strange not to be seeing you through a screen. Nic: Let me do introductions…. She turns to a small group and runs through some names. This gathering is just over a week after restrictions were eased by the government, allowing a small group to gather in an outside space. The conversation then ebbs and swirls easily over the afternoon, everyone exercising conversational muscles grown stiff from lack of exercise. After tea and scones and a cheeky glass of fizz, there is a rousing chorus of happy birthday which is met by blushes. Guests slowly drift off as the weather turns, with a warm fuzzy feeling of contentment. 134 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

A Letter To The 57-Year-Old Me To the 57-year-old me, I don’t know whether you remember the peculiar times of 2020 in detail. We’ve been in lockdown now for three months and the government have just announced a limited easement of the rules. Not sure the bubble thing will really affect us, but I didn’t think a year ago that charity shops opening would feel like sufficient justification to take a day’s annual leave! My feelings about the easement are not entirely positive. I notice that more people in supermarkets and when out and about seem to be ignoring the two metre distancing rule. Many seem to be young, possibly more confident of their own safety and forgetting to think about the safety of us all. And then there is the person (this time usually older) who seems to believe that wearing a face mask removes the obligation to social distance. Zoom has been a revelation, and I am sure video calling is still a prominent feature of your life even now that the lockdown is a distant memory. I count my blessings that I have a job largely unaffected by this turmoil other than the relatively easy shift to working from home, and that nobody very close to me has been badly affected by this terrible virus. I hope this letter reaches you in as lucky a situation as I am in while writing this. Give my love to the 61-year-old Chris! Much love Steve, Aged 47 and a quarter RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 135

Local Shop We walk to the local shop. A simple errand, dropping off parcels to the nearest collection point. Someone comes in, younger than me, taller than me. I open the door to leave with my husband. There are two more tall young men outside and they head towards the open door, towards me, getting closer. Very close. I ask them to observe social distance. “I will,” mumbled the one at the front in a surly tone, and yet he comes still closer to me. The one in the shop has come up behind me. I feel trapped. Once the two from outside have barged past me I look at the shopkeeper in disbelief, “Did you see how close they got?” I quickly head outside with my husband. Heading up the hill. Not looking back. Once we’ve put 100 yards between us and them, I hear it. “Gay!” I am no longer a teen but they are and all of a sudden I feel the tight knot of homophobia and fear I used to wrestle with every day at school resurface. Feel it in the middle of my chest like a tumour, a growth which cannot be removed without risk to the patient. We keep going, trying not to look back. When we turn the corner, we look behind us, looking to make sure we can’t be seen, to make sure they don’t identify the house we live in, our home. I feel relief when I can’t see them. Relief I can quickly duck out of sight behind the hedge. I spot them just as I disappear up our drive but they haven’t seen us. They head up the road opposite ours. I get indoors and start to breathe again. The ghost of the incident sits with me for the rest of the day. I can’t quite shake the disappointment that old fears and emotions can be packed away in a box in your heart, but never really disposed of. I need to get past this. I have to get past this. I know I’ll get past this. 136 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

A Message For My Fellow Writers Fellow travellers, it seems like we’ve been on this journey forever. So much has changed so quickly that the time before lockdown, the time before we came together to write, seems like a different era, like an extract from a historic novel. This shared experience has made this group special to me as I believe the unique times we live in have drawn us closer together. We dial in and find we are all in one room and yet all in our own homes. This brings an intimacy to our group that isn’t there when we sit round a table. We’d have called that “in real life”. Which is the real life now? RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 137

Everything’s Going To Be Alright One day I’ll be able to take a flight Or go to the pub on a Saturday night Sit out in the park when the sun is bright Then I’ll know everything’s going to be alright. 138 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

When All This Is Over When all this is over I will see people again Enjoy human contact Hug my friends and family in a welcome embrace When all this is over I will walk in the sun I will smile and wave Greeting people as I leave the loneliness behind me. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 139

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SOPHIE RIDGE (She/Her) Transitioning in more ways than one. Writing poetry for the first time has helped her make some sense and offload her feelings. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 141

Dreams Heaving, grinding, starting to run, Turning, slipping, this will be fun, Noisy, bumpy, leaving the station, To far away places across the nation. Faster, quieter, clouds zipping by, Calmer, smoother. Now I can sigh, Zen like, peaceful, the feeling of motion, Away from my problems an end to frustration. Coasting, slowing, starting to brake, Squealing, piercing. I am awake, Stopping, ending, the world flooding back, My time is over, it’s time to repack. 142 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

A State Of Mind The door swings shut, It is a beginning, But also an end. The timer ticks down, From some unknown number, Faceless it mocks me. Imprisoned in a jail with no bars, I sigh, the silence deafening, There is no escape from myself. But wait, there are no bars! My mind is free and hope is eternal, Just like my friends. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 143

No Way Two metres distant The world has changed forever Living our lives still How lucky I am The sacrifice of many No way to repay Weekend comes around Mostly stay in, now cannot Go out - want to now 144 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Let Let this be the beginning Let this be the milestone new Let the hope surge through Bursting the banks of despair Let the walls be washed away Let the outside in Let what is inside out Let us run free Our thoughts and feelings never dammed again. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 145

Locked Down No need to close my eyes to see Vivid right in front of me, The future that I could be Drifting pieces in the sea. Floating almost into line Will they make a path, defined? Or will they sink into the deep? Haunting me upon my sleep. Getting ready to depart, Still my over beating heart. Must carefully time my start, For it is my path to chart. No matter what the future holds, I will be forever bold. Cannot, will not, be foretold. 146 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

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ANDREW GARDNER (He/Him) Andrew aspires to be a novelist and is currently working on his sci-fi novel Jack and the Unsightly Drecknoch from Outer Space. He’s not ready to quit his day job just yet and works as an administrator at St Richard’s Hospice, Worcester. This group has given him the time and freedom away from such a big project to explore other modes of writing within a safe and inclusive space. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 149

Cycling Past the golf course and then the allotments, Where buildings give way to greenery, Past the old church and the pub, graves untended, And no new deaths marked in this place, untouched Past the A449, hum of traffic beneath me, until it fades and All I hear is bird call, insects buzzing, legs spinning. Past farmlands and barns, where the city scape falls behind. Sheep bleat and pheasants dart about the bushes Past my wheels, as I swerve to let them be. Legs aching, my breath heavy, I push forwards, Past the point of pain and into a meditative state I let go of city life, as the natural world glides by. 150 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS