Poetry: Our Isolated Place

May 10, 2024 – Los Angeles: Rory Jackson, from the UK, is always writing. His primary vehicle of expression is hip-hop music.

Our Isolated Place

It’s Kafkaesque
Masquerades and fancy dress
Method for the madness
Is it working? How can they tell?

What form does God take
When you need him the most
I guess that doesn’t matter
Please save our souls

Jesus is among us
Be it with a shrouded face
The book of revelations
Do not read it in a crowded place

Nostradamus beg your pardon
The Orwellian has started
Martial law is put in place
Online wakes for the departed

Please don’t hold my hand
I am fine here on my own
Leave the world the way I came
They’ll leave my ashes by your door

Death the thing we all agree
As if it was just discovered
As if we know not how,
To let go of those we love

How prepared we were
But did not know it
Hope, the mask on our face
Earth, the balcony we sing from
Our isolated place

Just a play within a play
As it was and always will be
When we go outside again
Will we be much different people?