Poetry - Lynn White

  Glad To Be Gay Miss Bunch taught Geography She was rather gruff and masculine. She laughed a lot. Miss Tomlinson taught RE. She was rather timid but very smiley. They lived together. We all thought they were “you know”. The word “lesbian” was unspoken and “gay” meant bright and cheerful, which of course, they were. We had no issue about it. We thought them rather sweet and no one sniggered. Ever year at Speech Day many of the staff would appear wearing caps and gowns. Miss Tomlinson and Miss Bunch   only had one between them. Miss Bunch wore it one year and Miss Tomlinson the next. We did have a giggle about that. https://alienbuddhapress.wordpress.com/2026/06/01/alien-buddha-press-pride-month-2026/?fbclid=IwY2xjawSKJ75leHRuA2FlbQIxMABzcnRjBmFwcF9pZBAyMjIwMzkxNzg4MjAwODkyAAEeO_wN2y7-EoAO7TgKmKXYdA1j7g7pmP01ecdpzDz9ClkAFDelSBofYolnYKE_aem_6et2U7lZrQ0EiEzwo97eAw

  Orion’s Belt Orion is back.   He’s hunting again, his sword sharpened, his belt tightened. The animals insects   birds fish are all falling. And this time Gaia thinks not even the scorpion will survive. But she still has some hope   and pins it on the cockroach as she loosens his belt again. https://www.jayzomondarkmyth.com/darkmythproductions/theworldofmyth/index.html

  The Weight I Carry The weight is threatening to overcome me so much pressure I can hardly breathe I know I need to turn the scales and shift the weight to rebalance it all and lift the threat   from the weight I carry. I shall spread it around a bit. https://spillwords.com/the-weight-i-carry/

  My Bag I have a lifetime of projects, that I carry round in a plastic bag. A paper bag would be better environmentally, but plastic is more durable. And it needs to be. It has had to last a lifetime, my bag. A lifetime of ideas, thoughts, doings and sayings carefully annotated and stored for use sometime later. To be finished, or started sometime later. I can add an idea, capture a thought, write it down, so it will be there, safe,   in my bag. It's getting heavy my bag. Who would have thought   that dreams could be so heavy, even encased in paper. It's getting full my bag. So is my life empty with everything on the inside. Perhaps now it’s time   to start emptying it out. Slowly though. One at a time,   and with care. It's getting late. But not too late, I hope, to empty my bag. https://poetrywivenhoe.org/2026/05/day-1272-my-bag-white/

  When They Knew They Were Lost They were returning to their spaces at tables left only ten minutes ago, he from the cloakroom to the left, she from the cloakroom to the right. They paused together at the open door and saw him leaning back, a half smile on his face slightly bemused fascinated just a little fascinated. She was leaning forward, elbows on table, hands gesturing to help her explain the complexity of the issue.Lost She sat back. He asked her something they couldn’t hear but they saw it all, saw her vigorous nods and more explanation.   Saw her stand briefly   to demonstrate her meaning   then sat back down again. They saw it all. He was nodding now understanding   then suddenly he leaned   forward to take her hands, her clenched hands folded in his   as he smiles smiles and speaks. They still can’t hear, only see as they move   to retake their spaces but think they could be lost. They looked up,   surprised   to see them. In ...

  The Third Man There was a third man   carrying the body, well, it was heavy, and Harry needed to hide   in plain sight just like Kim. But this Third Man did not hide he was an uncomfortable presence,   hidden only by the colour of his skin not white and his religion not Jewish. And so he was hidden, not like Harry not like Kim, this discomforting third man mentally ill made invisible ill fitting for the narrative. Three third men Harry Lime and Kim Philby hiding and Ishmail Hussein hidden in plain sight. https://oddballmagazine.com/poem-by-lynn-white-26/