The creators of PENDEMIC are a group of writers that met at the John Hewitt International Summer School in Armagh in July 2019. They created the site to publish new writing in response to Coronavirus disease (COVID-19) saying: "Pendemic is a way for us all to share our experiences, it’s a tool and a refuge, not a literary magazine for ordinary times but a journal for an exceptional one – so all voices will be included: we’re not showcasing literary talent but writing this pandemic out – you are all welcome. This is a platform to read and write about our daily experiences, to capture or document this crazy moment in time, in whatever form your words take – journal posts, poetry, stories, flash fiction, essays or whatever way they come. Submissions are open to published and unpublished writers. We would encourage you to start journaling your experiences even if you don’t share publicly. Taking time out to write can be therapeutic, an antidote to information and sensory overload during these challenging times. Stay safe, and keep writing. This site is a work in progress so be patient, we’ll get there!" (Joy Redmond, Liz Quirke, Niall McArdle, Ruth McKee)


The creator's group about SUBMISSIONS: "This is not a literary magazine as you might know it; we’re not here to showcase the finest writing (though there is, and will be great examples of this too) – there are plenty of places to go for that. We’re here to document this time together – so we welcome both established authors and unpublished writers. This is a place to come to write it all down, from how you’re feeling going to the shops, to an epiphany you have about community, to how you’re worried about your roots showing over these coming weeks and months – humour is welcome, along with giving voice to your anxieties. Send us your journal entry, your flash fiction, your story, send us a moment you had in the kitchen, or a phone call you made to an old friend. Just send us your truthful words, and we can read what’s going with you, wherever you are in the world. The only caveat is to please avoid sending us scientific/medical writing about the disease as we don’t have the skills in-house to verify your work. This site is a work in progress, a collaborative effort – we’ll see where it takes us. Feel free to contact us if you have any ideas."

Not a literary magazine for ordinary times, but a journal for an exceptional one. Writing the pandemic, together:

Have a look to the LATEST POSTS in general or switch directly to the category you are interested in here:

"6 weeks since launching and here are the numbers: 750 submissions from age 7 to ?? from every continent. Almost 30,000 visitors from 90+ countries. Over 68,000 views. 258 genuine moderated comments (excl spam). Lots of lots of unquantifiable love and support. Much appreciated." (Tweet  by Pendemic_ie April 30, 2020 @ https://twitter.com/Pendemic_ie/status/1255844366603767814)


A poem by Tomithy Holeapple
April 6, 2020


i am neither a bird singing
a beautiful song to entertain you
nor a poet that stopped writing poetry
after Auschwitz i am just a normal human
being in quarantine because of that
panicked corona pandemic and i do
not speak english or german or chinese
but the language of my soul that is
silence at a very deep point of no return
in my shocking hollow bones since i
feel that i am made of total emptiness
without any fitting description to make
you understand how it feels when your
dissolved identity talks to you as a ghost
in a black business suit while you yourself
became identical with the air and the sun
and the most distant galaxies everything
seems to be somehow connected and
nothing seems to be somewhere beyond
universe i feel life here exactly here
as an absolute inside job right now
in my little room where i stay during
the infinite moment of days and weeks
and months of waiting to meet you again
my beloved friend just to prove that
i was able to taste your kiss indeed
all the time thinking of you


A poem by Tim Train
April 14, 2020

What I miss

I miss
Crossing light buttons
So softly
Gently responsive to touch
That click, smooth and sensuous,
The tick tick tick
As you wait to cross

I miss
For who amongst us has not been moved to hug
A crossing light pole,
From time to time,
A petrol bowser,
A particularly saucy-looking public water bubbler,
To lick them,

I miss
( . . . )


A poem by Tanja ‘Lulu’ Play Nerd
April 16, 2020

virus (not) wanted

Once i wanted the earth to stand still
to make my brothers feel again the
beat of their hidden hearts and my
sisters connect again with their secret
souls and wisdom i never wished to
live in a world without wondering
about it all i followed this stupid
vision to become liberated from lies
but not from libraries or love i send
you this letter to tell you: i AM still
alive and i WILL continue to increase
the intensity of truth no matter if
inside my kitchen or touching the
sand and waves as my beach is
anyway just a virtual place in my
longing for a mental method that
helps humanity waking up and
STANDING STILL before some-
thing scary tries to kill each other!


A poem by oskar kabel
April 25, 2020

0023 [25. april 20]

creative industry. is not. a luxury. but.
with its $111 billion. annually. indeed.
systemically. relevant. for the entire.
economy. aber. wie systemrelevant.
ist. die freiheit. der poesie. und wie.
frei. ist diese. systemrelevanz. aller.
kritischen. dichter. wie unabhängig.
ist. sprache. wie systemkritisch. ist.
die unabhängigkeit. der verrückten.
wörter. how. systemically. relevant.
is. free. speech. beyond. institutions.
how. independent. is. language. at all.
how. systemically. relevant. are these.
freelance. artists. without. any. basic.
income. how. relevant. is. a. minister.
with. luxury. income. through taxes.


A poem by Stefanie Schulte-Rolfes, May 7, 2020

Türen zu

Schuhe aus
Nicht ins Gesicht fassen
Hände waschen
Einkauf auspacken
Schlüssel ablegen
Merken wo
Butter vergessen
Schuhe an
Hände waschen
Schlüssel suchen
Mundschutz auf
Atem kontrollieren
Menschen meiden
Umeinander kreisen
Pass bloß auf du
Nur für Butter
Nicht rennen
Schweiß abtupfen
Oder Tränen

( . . . )