Posts

Image
  Fabulous Faubus Soon we’ll be there back to those days when Faubus was fab when Klansmen were cool and swastikas were chic not shite. We’d thought it sorted, that That history had ended, that never again would mean never again and that Governor Faubus would stay ridiculous. Two, four, six, four just in time for the encore. https://www.amazon.com/Kinds-Cool-Interactive-Collection-Poetry/dp/B0GSZPP98R
Image
  Those Gloomy Sundays The weight of it bears down on me not your weight, that’s gone, left me with Sunday grey with Sunday gloom Sunday shadows only shadows   those dark angels   to welcome Monday’s dawn. https://www.amazon.com/Kinds-Cool-Interactive-Collection-Poetry/dp/B0GSZPP98R
Image
  Echo - Her Story It was the punishment of a jealous goddess - not all women stand together! She had only been following orders but it was no defence at that time. Now she could only repeat the last words she heard, the last sentence. That was her sentence, only to repeat her past words watching those who had free will their actions and voices repeatedly   following orders again and again. But she could call out loud clear her voice intact resonating as she called them out again and again and again. And so they followed her, those women united in disobedience united in calling out in chorusing an anthem echoing down the ages. She feels free now. Her sentence is served she has found her voice and they will surely overcome someday. https://spillwords.com/echo-her-story/
Image
  Beauty Once I was whole a smooth skinned beauty standing tall in a palace garden celebrated, admired, seen with awe. Then came the war that destroyed it all and stole me away, carried me far but not as far  as intended. For then came the wave that drowned me and them, broke me, and them and left me  alone down below  in that garden in the depth. But I’m still beautiful and still admired. I have a home here and now I give a home here better than the garden of a palace. https://lothlorienpoetryjournal.blogspot.com/2026/03/four-poems-by-lynn-white.html
Image
  The Neighbourhood of Make-Believe My grandma said I lived in a dreamworld. But it was just a different neighbourhood one where almost anything could happen, one where almost anything could be found. Even so I’d searched the rainbows for so long, I’d given up hope of finding it and then it happened! It was sitting there on the top shelf  in grandma’s kitchen, in her own neighbourhood, just waiting to be discovered. It was hidden in a brown jug. Such an ordinary piece of crockery. The perfect place for my grandma to hide her secret. As I reached up to bring it down,  some of the contents spilled out  in a scatter of golden buttons  gleaming so much more brightly than the foil wrapped chocolate ones I was used to. I felt guilty to have discovered it before she shared her secret. I knew she would share it. She always did. Perhaps their light would capture rainbows. I would have a surprise for her then, a secret to share when she returned to our neighbourhood. http...
Image
  It’s Only Make Believe? The little cinema was packed, even if fictional, films about the locality were rare. And later, in the bar there was much discussion. The shots of the sheep blocking the road were appreciated. Well, our sheep were famous for their techniques of blockade. This was no fiction. There was insider knowledge here! It was the mass action that was shown.  It brought the occupants out of their cars to wave their arms and shout in angry frustration. But the individual acts of defiance by escapees were not shown. This was considered regrettable. It was felt the film should have acknowledged the action  of a single ewe lying nonchalantly chewing  on the tarmac while the cars stopped  and drivers moved rapidly from “awww cute sheep” to louder and more frantic hooting  and then to arm waving and shouting outside, There was no discrimination, after all. Old cars, new cars, large cars, small, the ewe would eyeball them all impassively. Locals just...