Poetry - Lynn White

  Trumped Starmer had trumped him, but only until the next tantrum, that’s what we thought of the deal. But we were wrong, the cards were stacked   as he blew off another trump, another fart. And Starmer sniffing   around him failing to smell a rat as factories close in England. https://oddballmagazine.com/poem-by-lynn-white-20/

  Tired of Waiting From Langston Hughes to Ray Davies,   from the political to the personal and back again, back and forth, back and forth. From Kissinger to the newbie pretenders standing in line moving back and forth, back and forth. From Stockholm to The Hague back and forth,   back and forth. We are so tired, so very tired, but all we can do is wait to see where we shall find them. https://www.amazon.com/NEW-GENERATION-BEATS-2025-ANTHOLOGY/dp/1957654228/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?crid=2Q4Y0RMMP4W4N&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.B7B1Hc3xnO1TZOWiNOZINGeDmo8LPW3OaXhcPHbd-fQ1YwOLbhPlGw9sknq5Ia8O.xbnaRKu3xraxGMa6-VForAGSFuhYg-CogeYcaDowUdU&dib_tag=se&keywords=new+generation+beats%2C+debbie+tosun+kilday&qid=1755962308&sprefix=new+generation+beats%2C+debbie+tosun+kilday%2Cdigital-text%2C95&sr=8-1

  Mantra It’s like a mantra she told me a hallowed name to repeat eight times over and then eight times again. That’s enough for calmness   to overcome you and make you ready for the sacrifice. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FMQKXC7T

  Third Birthday Until I was three I had a pet rabbit. For a long time I took him everywhere with me. He was made of felt and stood upright tall and thin holding a bright orange carrot in front of his yellow chest. I held him by his ears which were dark green like his back. And then my mother decreed he had become too shabby, too dirty to be my constant companion. A wash did not improve his appearance too successfully. So he became my sleeping partner and I still loved him as much. And then for my third birthday he was allowed to come to tea. I was sick, too much cake, my mother said. Yes I was sick all over my pet rabbit. And then he disappeared. No one knew where. “He’s gone,”   they said hippy hop. I never saw him again. https://stortellerpoetryreview.blogspot.com/2025/08/super-sized-series_0658384439.html

  In A Cage   Sometimes the caged bird will sing, a male in a futile search for a mate, but a caged woman will never sing however much she thinks about it the caged woman will never sing, she must be free to sing her song, but ducks caged in a small pond will never sing even when freed. She ponders this and wonders if she will find her voice out there. https://whispersandechoesmag.home.blog/2025/08/22/in-a-cage-lynn-white/?fbclid=IwY2xjawMVJuJleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHgkoNyewEzwolUWzmwAt1FsSf9_HnkKpKIW92Z54bm7YL5v6Fjn_sZH-u1a9_aem_dCIxnVB6Vt7nEBh_0mLeSQ

 https://drive.google.com/file/d/11VZoMlWgkQLjO8ynbAmkZcWkN1848Uyt/view