Poetry - Lynn White

  Water Under The Bridge The Canadian canoe submerged as we got in too clumsily. The cushions, brought thoughtfully for comfort were soaked along with everything else. Then we discovered that we were unable to co-ordinate our paddling. So moving along the narrow canal in a straight line was impossible. So we made slow progress. And then we came to the long tunnel. The sign at the entrance was disconcerting, forbidding entry except with a torch. Of course, we had no torch, just spluttering roll ups made in darkness from damp tobacco, and five loud voices. Yes, we were five. Four adults who should have known better and a thirteen year old in despair as usual of his out of control parents. All water under the bridge   when we emerged   into the light to tell a survivor’s tale, now a memory. https://masticadorestaiwan.wordpress.com/2026/02/16/water-under-the-bridge-by-lynn-white/

  Chaos Theory On this canvas of my life it looks as though butterflies were flapping their wings and flitting about at every opportunity making trouble having fun and shaking things up a bit. Looking backwards into the cloud, I remember my lived life was similarly peppered with disorder, irregularities, random events. I struggle to discern underlying patterns, interconnectedness or organisation. It’s regularities and irregularities were left to the butterflies and their flitting and flapping. In the end, they flapped the clouds away. Tomorrow I shall paint a new canvas and with the help of the butterflies I will paint another picture drawn from my life. On canvas, I am the butterfly. I can make the patterns, the order or disorder. Others may make of it what they will. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2026/02/14/5-butterfly-poems-by-lynn-white/

  Thoughts on Swallowing a Butterfly Butterflies, such a fragile incarnation of what went before. Warriors, according to the Mayans, dead warriors ready to be transformed, transformed into butterflies. Butterflies, surely too fragile to make warriors, too easily destroyed in their new metamorphosis. But they can wait, they can wait for their next transformation So take care if you swallow a butterfly. Butterflies, vigorous egg layers that can reproduce themselves, warriors, mutating again to find new ways to fight back, to invade the invaders, enslave the enslavers, exploit the new possibilities. So take care if you swallow a butterfly. And I can wait. I have been waiting a long time to see Henry Kissinger choke on a butterfly. I can wait. Perhaps there’s still hope that the butterflies will worm their way inside and destroy them all. I can wait. So take care if you swallow a butterfly. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2026/02/14/5-butterfly-poems-by-lynn-white/

  Butterflies So many new warriors grown from the seeds planted by the invaders sent by the money men, the arms traders, the super ego-ed politicians. So many dead warriors lying whole or in pieces, destroyed by the invaders sent by the money men, the arms traders, the super ego-ed politicians. Dead warriors. Soon to be transformed, transformed into butterflies, according to the Mayans who knew about transformations – and about warriors. Butterflies with the souls of the dead warriors. Butterflies that can fly across continents, cross oceans and borders. There are no barriers for butterflies. And they are experts in transformation, experts in disguise. They will consume them, the money men, the arms traders, the super ego-ed politicians. Will worm their way inside them, infest them and destroy them all, Yes, they should beware the butterflies with the souls of dead warriors and the memories of slaughter. They carry karma with them. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2026/02/...

  Whistler And The Butterfly 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://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2026/02/14/5-butterfly-poems-by-lynn-white/

  The Company of Butterflies In the company of butterflies I can whistle up the wind and fly without boundaries. Flutter by and then rest in the sunshine and drink sweet nectar and dream and dream. In the company of butterflies I can whistle up the wind and soar over fragile rainbows. Then stop in a fusion of colour to taste the gold at the end of my flight of fancy. In the company of butterflies I am boundless. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2026/02/14/5-butterfly-poems-by-lynn-white/