Poetry - Lynn White

Breathless In this new society of masks and miasmas we are being suffocated with pillows of power and prejudice, hardly hidden, in the institutions we were told would protect us all. Some of us believed it. But the old masks are off now, forced off the face by lies. All they hid is exposed. We know it now. So we put on our mask carefully to protect ourselves. Before we show them. We know now that we are all George Floyd potentially later or sooner. And we know we are all his killers potentially later or sooner unless we look behind the masks. https://literaryyard.com/…/breathless-and-our-street-poems/… By: Lynn White Breathless In this new societyof masks and miasmaswe are being suffocatedwith pillows of powerand prejudice,hardly hidden,in the institutionswe were told would protectus all.Some of …

That Was Us That was us who wandered through Europe without maps or money, or sense of direction. Who got lost a lot, but didn’t get raped or murdered. So far as we can remember. Who charmed hoteliers into letting us stay for free. Who got up early (too cold to sleep), and cleaned the kitchen and the floors of the hostel in Laumiere for the first time in many years. Then sat on the stairs and said ‘No Pasaran’ to everyone, until it had dried, explaining carefully in languages we did not speak, why this was necessary. Who, with wide eyed innocence and impressively bad French failed to understand the policemen’s demands, ‘Vos papiers, s’il vous plait, vos papiers!’ Until our new friends with the nice smiles and no papers had disappeared. ‘Vos papiers, s’il vous plait, vos papiers!’ Sod off! That was us who swam off the rocks, with a man we’d met in a cafe, because he said we could. And swam and swam until two policemen came, (one very stern and one very twinkly), and said we couldn’t. No...

Out Of Sight Sometimes you just can’t see it a case of the wood hiding the trees, perhaps or the elephant sitting ignored in the centre of the room while everyone skirts round it unseeing. Maybe that’s the best way to hide there in full view no one will notice until the lion roars and the chickens come home to roost on their perch of cliches. https://blognostics.net/…/2020/04/02/out-of-sight-by-lynn-…/ Out Of Sight by Lynn White Sometimes you just can’t see it a case of the wood hiding the trees, perhaps or the elephant sitting ignored in the centre of the room....READ MORE BLOGNOSTICS.NET Out Of Sight by Lynn White Out Of Sight by Lynn White Sometimes you just can’t see it a case of the wood hiding the trees, perhaps or the elephant sitting ignored in the centre of the room....READ MORE

Metamorphosis It should be the dragon that breathes fire, that’s him there above the horse, but he’s quiet and calm in tune with the sweet music quite breathless just now while in flight clearly still in metamorphosis. It’s the horse that looks dangerous, his breath steaming about to catch fire no doubt about it they will surely change places when their metamorphosis is completed and the music stops. https://medium.com/mehfil/metamorphosis-70996035bc03 https://medium.com/mehfil/metamorphosis-70996035bc03

Rhythms Of Time Rhythms of time gathering pace. Working up to the wave that crashed into me, propelled me forward and now sucks me back. Thirteen decades. Back. To a place beyond my imagining, so tidy now after the crash. Gentrified now. Rippling gently. But before, in my father’s time. There was beer mixed mud and crowding children. And smells of horses and metal. Working. Fire and metal work. Children who would leave behind the mud, and country smells, for the dust and smog. For the city grime. Streets and factories. More fire and metal. Bigger. Grander. And what then? Still poor. What then? What secrets lie in those rhythms of time washing over me now. https://lineriderpress.com/rhythms-of-time-by-lynn-white/ Rhythms of timegathering pace.Working up to the wavethat crashed into me,propelled me forwardand now sucks me back.Thirteen decades.Back.To a place beyond my imagining,so tidy now after the crash.Gentrified now.Rippling gently.But before,in my father’s time,there was beer mixed...

The Skin I'm In Am I still the same person under the skin? Are you? I think I am. The outside has changed. But inside my skin I am intact. Myself as before. I think. Not quite so comfortable, though. It doesn't fit me too well. Doesn't always represent me. Doesn't look like I still feel. Like I still am? What about you? Are you still that person in your new skin? I'm not sure now if it is only on the outside, that we have changed together. https://freeverserevolution.wordpress.com/…/the-skin-im-in…/ Am I still the same person under the skin? Are you? I think I am. The outside has changed. But inside my skin I am intact. Myself as before. I think.   Not quite so comfortable, though. &nb…

Rejection It’s not that I’m not tempted, she said and I don’t want to offend you. She took my hand briefly, to show no offence was intended, then let it go. I held on to hers as she explained. Then we walked in silence for quite a long way enveloped in the dark night. Hand in hand. Quiet footsteps that didn’t break the silence. She looked up at me and smiled. I smiled back. Or was I the first to smile and she smiled back? I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter, but we still don’t remember. https://uglywriters.com/2020/06/06/rejection/ Rejection is a poem written and shared by Lynn White to The Ugly Writers under the theme After The Storm for the month of June. About This Website UGLYWRITERS.COM Rejection Rejection is a poem written and shared by Lynn White to The Ugly Writers under the theme After The Storm for the month of June.

Into The Light I’m living through the time of night without end. The time when everywhere is transformed into the underworld. When everywhere is transformed into that dark place, deathly dark. Only the dark gods and the creatures of death can live there, those who need no further sustenance, who gave up on the light above. I won’t give up. I’m ready for the birth of a new day. Ready for a pink dawn to rise and break full of possibilities, as the light takes over from the dark and the day is born again. I shall follow the road towards the light, and leave the dark behind, again. But I have found that the dark always follows. Catches up with me, as if it were the past. If I hurry maybe I’ll escape it this time. Maybe I’ll catch the light and hold on to it and not let it break again. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B087FJD9JF/ref=sr_1_15… The Stray Branch: Spring/Summer 2020

Trapped I can hear the flies buzzing so I think I must have 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. Now there is no window to be opened. We’re trapped in this closed space with only our fears, our most ancient fears for company. Eternal night. No possibility of freedom, or escape. Not for me. Not for them. https://freeverserevolution.wordpress.com/…/trapped-lynn-w…/ I can hear the flies buzzing so I think I must have 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.… About This Website FREEVERSEREVOLUTION.WORDPRESS.COM Trapped – Lynn White I can hear the flies buzzing so I think I must have 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.…