Friday, 26 June 2020

On The Inside


The circles are in such a tangle

it’s impossible to explore them

impossible to see what’s inside

impossible to plumb their depths

the coloured threads of a life

intertwined.

So I’m left with the outside

which is much simpler

much clearer

much duller

less colourful

and yet still 

incomprehensible.

Sometimes 

even when things are straightened

and appear clear

I can’t make sense of them

can’t manage to join the dots

and the dashes

and the tangles are more beautiful

which seems to be important.

The colourful threads of a life

intertwined round and round

on the inside of my head.










Thursday, 25 June 2020

Cover The Mirrors

All the mirrors were covered
every night
in my grandmother’s house
draped with coloured cloths
like the budgie’s cage.
She was worried
that a soul might wander
and be sucked into the reflective glass
and she thought
the souls of dreamers were very vulnerable.
I thought that the budgie must be covered
because at night
even with the door closed,
his soul might fly the cage
and
disappear into the mirror.
Sometimes she forgot to cover the cage,
though never the mirrors
and then
I would examine the mirrors carefully
to check that it was me in there
and not his feathered soul.
Then
I would check his cage to make sure
that he was still inside
with his soul intact
She told me not to worry
that his cage was only covered
to make it dark
so he would sleep.
But I didn’t believe her.
It made no sense
if it was dark anyway.
So I always checked
the mirrors.


https://www.schoolandcollegelistings.com/US/Chicago/632472920265081/City-Brink?fbclid=IwAR1ZJMp99qhUUrIvTbA_YImEdfbUY5XG72w8wIp2yNRJ4FGvN0pseRRyr24







Wednesday, 24 June 2020

A Disappointing Day

If they hadn’t asked her
to smell the nice scent.
If she hadn’t remembered
the scent from before.
There would have been
no screams, no stamping
up and down on the trolley.

The nurse would still
have her cap on
and the doctor would have
no fist or feet marks
on his white coat,
no red hand mark
on his pale cheek.

There would have been
no shock, horror reports
to those who had put away
Red Riding Hood
and were waiting
anxiously for news
of their little girl.

But they did ask her.
They did ask her.

The scent wasn’t nice.
She knew it.
And there was no ice cream
afterwards either.
They’d lied about that
as well.

A disappointing day.

https://spillwords.com/a-disappointing-day/…

SPILLWORDS.COM
Spillwords.com presents: A Disappointing Day, poetry by Lynn White, who lives in North Wales. Her writing is influenced by issues of social injustice ...

Tuesday, 23 June 2020

The Revolution Is Postponed

The revolution is postponed
until the towels are on,
so they once said.
Until
last orders had been called
and the beer pumps
covered
with towels
to make it clear
that they would be pulled no more
that night,
ten minutes drinking up time
then it was,
“do your talking
while you’re walking”,
we’ve had your money, now piss off,
and a beery smokey exit.
Unless
there was a lock-in
in which case the revolution
would be postponed again.
Now they’re open all hours.
There’s no last orders,
no need of towels
to cover the pumps.
No ten minutes
allowed to drink up.
They’re open all hours
and the revolution is postponed.
Again.

https://www.paperandinkzine.co.uk/product/paper-and-ink-16


https://www.paperandinkzine.co.uk/product/paper-and-ink-16?fbclid=IwAR26Jefu18_9vCEgY3NcGzaZg8jK1RwumL6MTAkT99PML5HzGFt_3dt1S4Y

PAPERANDINKZINE.CO.UK
PAPER AND INK LITERARY ZINE ISSUE #16 'REBELLION' A collection of short stories, flash fiction, poetry and art on the theme of rebellion,...

Sunday, 21 June 2020

All That Was Left


Drink me 

the label said.

She drank it all, 

then threw the bottle aside,

so all that was left were the words.

Eat me

was iced on the cake.

She ate it all, 

every last crumb,

Then she licked off the icing

so nothing was left of the words.






Thursday, 18 June 2020

Facade

They were always sepia
the old photographs
and slightly misty,
the technique
not fully developed.
But though sepia,
they seemed dark
and posed and staged,
subjects unsmiling
even the animals
sad and still.
All were caged
in the strictness of the set
and the strictness of the age
when an upright facade hid the darkness behind
where the sepia darkened
and turned brown as primeval mud
in an frightful ancient swamp.
So much has changed.
Now we have colours.
Now we smile for the camera,
it’s allowed.
Even the animals look animated
naturalistic
free
but it’s still a facade
still hiding darkness
in the background.



https://visualverse.org/submissions/facade-white/

Wednesday, 17 June 2020

In 2017, Highland Park Poetry invited poets to respond to Highland Park's collection of almost 30 pieces of outdoor public art throughout the streets, trails and parks. In 2020, Highland Park Poetry expanded the program to include more than 60 pieces of public art at Ravinia Festival, The Art Center of Highland Park, North Shore School District 112 and Keyth Security. Highland Park Poetry urged writers of all ages to go on a treasure hunt of discovery and find poetic inspiration among the sculptures. The idea behind the contest was that ekphrastic poems might expand community awareness and appreciation of the public art, perhaps leading to new understanding by both readers and viewers. Winning poems from the contest were published on temporary signs installed near the sculptures as well as on The Muses’ Gallery of Highland Park Poetry’s website throughout the summer of 2020.






The Red Tricycle


When he was very young

he was told that if he wished hard enough,

his wish would come true.

Later,

much too late,

he was told to be careful of his wishes,

that sometimes they came true

and were regretted.

He often thought back to the red tricycle,

to how he tried to ride it over too rough ground

and learned that even the most stable of things 

can topple

and result in calamity.

He no longer makes wishes now

he knows.



Art Gets In Your Eyes 2020: Poets Respond to Public Art in Highland Park, Illinois
AMAZON.COM
Art Gets In Your Eyes 2020: Poets Respond to Public Art in Highland…