The rain was torrential, the ground so waterlogged that we had to put boards under the tent. They had a big stack of them ready for such an eventuality. And this was Innsbruck in August. It was more like the English Lake District. We had expected better! And we were kept awake all night by partying Scots in the nearby tents. It was just like the English Lake District. We had expected better!
https://impspired.com/2023/04/01/lynn-white-7/
It was a small exhibition but it stayed in my memory. I had never encountered Whistler but the butterfly signature did it for me. “The Company of the Butterfly”, what a wonderful concept! It really spoke to me, I even wrote a poem about the company of butterflies. The title trips off my tongue so easily. And now I am put in mind of it again as I look at this image and see her now in the company of butterflies ready to whistle up the wind again.
https://impspired.com/2023/04/01/lynn-white-7/
Make a hole in the eggshell so the witches won’t steal them. They’ll sail them away like a boat and take you with them. That’s what her granny said when she was growing up. So that’s what she did as an obedient child. But now she leaves the shells whole, unpunctured splendidly ovoid as she always thought they should be. She was not afraid of witches. She was not afraid and she would never walk on eggshells.
https://impspired.com/2023/04/01/lynn-white-7/
Is There Still Life
Is the dog dead?
I think not.
I think
there is still life in him.
And for sure
the monkey lives
I can see his hunger
as he reaches out.
So there is still life there in him.
The rest are done.
Has-beens.
Finished.
Cooked or plucked
with no life left
in them.
Still.
All are still.
https://visualverse.org/submissions/is-there-still-life/
The Summer Of ‘89
The ice-cream man appeared
at frequent intervals
on the corner of the street
near the large grassy area
in summery Sochi.
He had no van
just a barrow
and two cardboard cartons
of paper wrapped briquettes.
He had no fridge,
didn’t need one,
everyone knew
Russian ice-cream
to be the best,
the best in the world
and so never got time to melt!
The evidence was all around.
The grass was full of people
enjoying the lazy sunshine,
sharing their music, smokes
and iced creamy kisses
in the Sochi summer.
The perimeter of the grass
was edged with signs.
”Keep Off The Grass”,
an English speaker translated.
She smiled.
“But we take no notice!”
https://feversofthemind.com/2023/03/31/poetry-art-anthology-the-whiskey-mule-diner-inspired-by-tom-waits/?fbclid=IwAR1k401OKuDPfLwjIRVZXjcP4tBxnZ8z2Gd3MFwiZ_fOiceYlVoMuXlpa30
Come On In
“Come on in the water’s lovely”
they called out to me
with their arms outstretched
and the sweetest of smiles.
And I was tempted for sure,
even on this cold winter night
their smiles were as entrancing as sirens.
But the arms waving a welcome
reminded me of spiders
with their stretched out legs
waiting to pounce
in this watery web.
Come on in the water’s lovely
lovely
lovely
lovely.
The word echoes through my head
enticing me
for sure,
entrapping me
perhaps.
I’ll soon find out.
https://ibecomethebeast.com/autumn-2023/
No Place
The buildings line the street.
Such bright colours
lining the street
of the holiday resort,
a place near the beach,
a living place.
But if I should transform the cars,
into their metal box shapes.
If I should paint out their windows
and doors,
and the windows and doors
of the buildings in the street,
it would leave me
with coloured squares
and rectangles
dividing blue from green or white
with no life left there.
No place,
no place
for life
at all.
https://ibecomethebeast.com/autumn-2023/
