Poetry - Lynn White

  Consumption Curse I can hardly remember my early life when I wiggled and wriggled   embryo-like blindly consuming all before me. I know I sensed the warnings not to bite off more than I could chew, but consumer of cliches that I was, I carried on regardless making a meal of everything I could swallow, even the words. I could feel   that change   was coming and eventually it happened! I made it happen! My curse became a blessing and I broke out   of my hard carapace, split open the shell that had become my prison, did my best to leave it behind to have a look at the world outside and continue my cruise of consumption. Nothing was sacred I ate it all and grew fat. too fat. So fat I felt ready to explode. And then it happened! It was like a nuclear explosion inside me all the dust and debris of decadence   solidifying into something unspeakable, mushrooming into something unintelligible to be spewed out of my big, accursed mouth. I don’t know what   will become of me now. I don’t know w

  Last Rites I’d always loved flowers and you helped me fill my garden, brought a plant each time we met. It was our little ritual a recurring theme, flowers for my garden to bring me joy. I would like to lie in that garden in the mist of the soft sweet smelling mist of them   for ever. But we all have our time, our time to live, and our time to die and only your flowers   will bloom eternally each in its season,   in their own little ritual living on beyond me. I want no funeral rituals. When I’m dead I won’t see them on my grave, won’t know that you’ve brought them for me won’t know if you haven’t. The flowers you carry   in that season should be for you, you that I left behind. Don’t let them die for me. Nobody wants dead flowers, least of all, dead people. https://pinklilyliterature.wixsite.com/home

  Circles of Light    I’d walked down the street many times and not noticed them  in both day and night time.  I’d driven down many times  and not noticed them  in both day and night time  Such innocuous road markings  seen so often they become unseen.  But tonight I saw the street from above and saw how the trees lights lit up the markings in orange and blue circles moonstruck like an art installation  painting circles of light  and making the ordinary  into extraordinary. https://pinklilyliterature.wixsite.com/home

  Whispers   I sit here quietly  unsure  what  is happening  as the wind whispers to me.  I listen  carefully.  I know that I must obey. https://pinklilyliterature.wixsite.com/home

  Holding the Sunlight   She learned to catch the sunlight to hold it in her hands  and let it warm them  with the scents of summer to let its rays shine through then open her fingers wide and let it go free.  And then  a shadow falls  and it’s lost. https://pinklilyliterature.wixsite.com/home

  Oranges Little paper people eating oranges. Big paper people eating oranges. Brown paper bags full of people eating oranges.  https://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2024/04/lemonade-days.html