Poetry - Lynn White

  Wasted How many candles must I light to commemorate all the dead souls, all the lives wasted in wars without end. So many that candle making   became a profitable industry, its candles even surviving death. I have never lit such a candle. My time wasted has been   in protests for peace, in dreams of peace. My voice has been wasted in words of peace in poems of peace. And now I wonder   if there be anyone left to waste a candle for me. https://www.ivoreview.com/issues/issue-three-confession/

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  Immortality They tried them all, the amulets and potions of their time and place. Some worked for a time but death overcame them in the end  and proclaimed their ungodlike mortality. They were buried like treasure with their treasures  from this life readied for the next, living on only in memories which faded like funeral flowers. It was not enough. So portraits were painted  on the bindings of mummies or the wooden lids of coffins, stone effigies were carved  on tombstones, but only  for the rich and already godlike. It’s democratised now. Ceramic portraits carefully incorporated into gravestones, likenesses to be viewed  down the centuries, glimpses of a life passed, a brush with immortality. https://inalove.world/2026/03/18/immortality/

  Time And Place What did he do that little boy when he Resisted the Occupation, for that was the charge against him. If he killed, it seems it was a soldier out of place illegally placed in that place. But sometimes in some places illegal becomes legal and resistance is criminal. Sometimes in those places, to exist is crime enough for some,  those whose childhood is stolen whose youth is stolen whose land is stolen like that boy in that place where power not law defines legality. https://inalove.world/2026/02/18/time-and-place/

  Only Time Survives Time is digging graves again graves of bones and flesh graves of ideas memories avenging a life lived a spent or mis-spent youth all buried now  the running away has stopped and only time passes. https://inalove.world/2026/01/21/only-time-survives/

  Meeting Your Match D H Lawrence once wrote that there were lots of good fish in the sea but as the vast majority were mackerel and herring, unless you were mackerel or herring yourself, you were unlikely to find your fish-mate. But that was in the teeming wilderness of then. There are a lot fewer fish now than in his day and even mackerel and herring are in short supply. Perhaps that will make it easier to meet your match amongst the precocious survivors. But maybe he would have something wilder in mind, for our times,   a salmon perhaps. There are even fewer of them now so only the wildest will meet their match   in today’s emptying wilderness. https://4fpfish.blogspot.com/?fbclid=IwY2xjawRQgAZleHRuA2FlbQIxMQBzcnRjBmFwcF9pZBAyMjIwMzkxNzg4MjAwODkyAAEeHWo_yAE5x6Rb2S8VgBRJ0txzKOTOnyNymL0FSZJdzrrT0wzmsVQee2_mzjg_aem_k_Q5jJwyYO0QBM_VypkKTg