Poetry - Lynn White

https://thegorkogazette.com/2026/08/05/odin-is-hunting-and-1-more-by-lynn-white/ Odin Is Hunting Quick as slippery silver he led the hunt riding and flying across the winter sky. Hide, hide, hide, only the well hidden   will escape his thunder. Hide,   hide,   hide,   only the well hidden will survive the blood, fire and death he brings on that journey to Valhalla.

  In Therapy “And how did that make you feel,” she said. “Murderous,” I said and I sensed her alarm, though she hid it well, I could feel her anxiety. I told her more.   She seemed alarmed. “You should leave,” I said I knew that she understood, and I wondered what form her evasive action would take. “What are you feeling now”, she said. I was mistaken, she hadn’t understood. And now I don’t know how I’m feeling. I couldn’t tell her even if she could ask. https://thegorkogazette.com/2026/08/05/odin-is-hunting-and-1-more-by-lynn-white/

  https://aksolotlestonia.wordpress.com/2026/08/05/download-aksolotl-issue-6-pdf/

  We Should Have Seen It Coming To begin with the dark parts were small tiny black squares in the brightness, we should have seen it growing recognised its full potential noticed the blurred edges allowing it to creep outwards imperceptibly almost invisibly. And now there’s hardly a space between the black parts and little space for brightness around them. Even the red no longer looks dangerous however vibrantly it tries to intervene the darkness is winning slowly but  exponentially covering it all. We should have seen it coming. How did we not see it? I think it’s too late to halt it now. https://latinosenglishedition.blog/2026/08/05/we-should-have-seen-it-coming-by-lynn-white/

  Mack’s Knife Threepence was not much for any beggar to sing about and the barrel organ had broken so only the choir of those in darkness could accompany his song. And he could see the sharks circling, their teeth gleaming pearly white not like his, broken and brown. But he hardly felt the bite and didn’t see the knife as he dropped from sight again and this time it all stayed dark. https://masticadoresusa.wordpress.com/2026/07/29/macks-knife-by-lynn-white/

  Morris Minors This is a tale of three Morris Minors, once upon a time. Liz had an old green Morris Minor. It knew the road between Liverpool and Derbyshire  intimately and she was generous with her lifts until the day the breaks failed completely. We had just passed the Cat And Fiddle, right on the tops   with the long steep decent ahead. Liz was a good driver. My Morris Minor was black with stripes of rust in its wheel arches and no floor at the back. Back seat passengers came away  with wet feet. Even the patching with beer cans  made little difference. It failed the test. Alan had a white Morris Minor with a perfect body, breaks and floor, but the gear box was shattered. The gears didn’t work. Still no one could steal it. The three of us put our heads together and came up with a solution. We would put the best bits together to make one car which we would share. Liz and Alan were cool mechanics and I made good coffee to keep them going. We were pleased with ...