Dead Poets Outside the night was filled with stars, a sky full of dead poets if van Gogh is to be believed. But he was inside now and all he remembered was the red curtain coming down over his eyes. Red first and then black. So black it turned everything black. They told him that he had died for a few seconds, or was it a few minutes. Then he was back looking out on the starry night. He wondered how long it took for a dead poet to become a star. Was a few seconds, or even a few minutes, sufficient. And now, now that he was back, was he still shining undead, living up there with all the dead poets. Unless the raising of the curtain put out his light. https://impspired.com/2020/02/04/lynn-white-2/
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Buzzing I can hear the flies buzzing since I died. In life I could shoo them away, open a window to persuade them through, though usually they were too stupid to grasp the chance of freedom offered and escape. Now there is no window to be opened. This is a closed space. Eternal night. No possibility of freedom, or escape. Not for me. Not for them. . https://payhip.com/b/IMv0 Pussy Magic Presents... Hallow's Eve 2019: Scream!Indulge in otherworldly writing, art, and photography in Hallow's Eve 2019: Scream, Pussy Magic's second annual Halloween issue!Xo,The Pussy Magic Coven... PAYHIP.COM Hallow's Eve 2019: Scream Pussy Magic Presents... Hallow's Eve 2019: Scream!Indulge in otherworldly writing, art, and photography in Hallow's Eve 2019: Scream, Pussy Magic's second annual Halloween issue!Xo,The Pussy Magic Coven...
Tulips Gleaming globes of gold, and scarlet and pink, the brightness of their colours masking the shadows within and the blackness at their heart. Too soon their coloured shapes will fly away like birds of paradise glistening in the sunlight, petals of paradise. But these are transient beauties already in their death throes as they soar, ready for the dusk to dull their colour. Ready to decay, to become dust, while their black hearts grow fat on what lies beneath, like the black crows that feast on the bright flesh of below them. Surviving to live another day. Surviving to make seed for another year. https://impspired.com/2020/02/04/lynn-white-2/ Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries… IMPSPIRED.COM Lynn White Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social j...
On Our Watch If it had been on his watch, he would have seen, he would have given the alarm, would have been heard and catastrophe would have been avoided. She also was alert, but it was not her watch and no one heard her warnings. On their watch we would have heard the warnings. But it happened on our watch and we were sleeping. http://us2.forward-to-friend.com/forward/show… http://us2.forward-to-friend.com/forward/show?u=9e5e4dd4731a9649c1dd1cf58&id=f78cbbb351&fbclid=IwAR0aJuiT2tSWJ77qoLC7Th1achfS8pEzxZbBcEF_lz_0XOCtEMRzPHCqqDM
Half Light The taxi's waiting and it's getting light, the half light of day break. And I'm ready for the journey into the brightness, optimistic that the daylight is coming. Optimistic that the taxi will take me to a place where everyone is in their place. It’s a picnic. A cloth spread out under a tree. That's where we're going. That's where we'll be. A picnic in the sunshine with sunny, smiling people. But I have to stay awake or I may not get there. Have to keep my eyes open to let in the light. Stay awake to open the door. Get into the taxi while it's still light and hold the door open for the rest to follow. in the half light... Is that the light leaving us. Maybe it's the night closing in on us, the half light of evening. Not the dawn, but the dusk enclosing me. I am afraid. I am afraid that the taxi will leave me behind to a dark awakening from the half light. And when I wake will it be light? Bright like the dream of a day, or dark, a dar...
Against The Tide Will we wait for the tide to turn. to carry us away wave after wave gathering up the debris which surrounds us sucking it up like so much dust getting rid of it all, everything going with the flow sinking beneath the waters. Everything. But not everyone. Some of us will swim against the tide take the risk strike out hold on ride the waves and survive the back flow. https://literaryyard.com/…/against-the-tide-and-one-more-p…/ By: Lynn White Against The Tide Will we wait for the tide to turn.to carry us awaywave after wavegathering up the debriswhich surrounds ussucking it up like so much dustgetting rid of it all,everyt…
Transient Snowflakes lit by sunbeams blowing gently, fragile as shadows making rainbows in the sun. Smiling in the soft light. So soft. So soft. Catch them quickly in your hair to melt them while the sun is still shining and smiling. For only as long as it falls, can the snow renew them when they melt away. https://impspired.com/2020/02/04/lynn-white-2/
So Many Words It’s getting crowded inside my head with so many words tumbling around trying to sort themselves out trying to get out of my head. I should help them but I can’t let them out while they’re in such a jumble and they can’t seem to put themselves in order I have to do that inside or out I have to decide what to make of them. They can’t seem to do it alone. https://issuu.com/…/docs/artifact_nouveau_fall_vol._5_iss._3 Issuu is a digital publishing platform that makes it simple to publish magazines, catalogs, newspapers, books, and more online. Easily share your publications and get them in front of Issuu’s millions of monthly readers. Title: Artifact Nouveau Fall 2019 Volume 5 Issue 3, Author: The Writers' Guil... About This Website ISSUU.COM Artifact Nouveau Fall 2019 Volume 5 Issue 3 Issuu is a digital publishing platform that makes it simple to publish magazines, catalogs, newspapers, books, and more online. Easily share your p...
Earwigs My neighbour was sweeping up. “Beware of earwigs,” she said. “they go in through your ear, crawl round your brain and tickle you to death” Her name was Rosie. She cleaned trains for a living. No earwig survived where she swept. Fortunately not many travelled by train. https://trash-world.com/earwigs/ My neighbour was sweeping up. “Beware of earwigs,” she said. TRASH-WORLD.COM Earwigs My neighbour was sweeping up. “Beware of earwigs,” she said.
Back Then He was so exciting back then such a dresser, quiff falling over face, cigarette hanging from lips cool, cool, so cool back then. And he found me exciting he found me cool, I was the envy of my friends back then. And now, where are they now that boy and girl from back then. Not here though still sharing space but remote disconnected from each other with uncool clothes and uncool hairstyles dreaming of what they had dreaming of what they lost dreaming of how they were back then. https://ninemusespoetry.com/…/…/12/one-poem-by-lynn-white-8/
