Poetry - Lynn White

  Birthing Pains The stars didn’t shine for them, and the wise men don’t notice those women giving birth   in ramshackle sheds or freezing in tents   in the rubble and dirt of what remains. So there are no Magi to bring gifts, no shepherds to bring succour to those women giving birth   in ramshackle sheds or freezing in tents   in the rubble and dirt of what remains. Maybe artists will paint the scene so that we can all see it, that scene   we have already seen on a screen   somewhere and we already know it’s happening again. We need no artists when and then we don’t look anymore. https://www.literaryheist.com/poetry/birthing-pains/

  Frog She looked into the pond where the frog, sitting on a lily pad looked back at her alert   its eyes meeting hers. She remembered the story about a frog, how it became a prince when kissed. She thought of the sleeping beauty and how she awoke to the kiss of a prince. So, it seemed that kisses and princes must have some connection. The frog was very still. She thought it may be   still enough to kiss but she couldn’t quite reach though she tried and tried and tried while the frog stayed there still waiting.   And then it spoke. “I’m no prince,” it said. “But I’ll come closer, I’d still like a kiss.” https://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/

  The House of Venomous Things They lie deep, the scurrilous snakes in the grass. They lie big, even the little ones just hanging on. Then there are the venomous ones,  poisonous as politicians rattling around the half empty chamber ready to pounce on a stray human voice. Only the brave or the foolish will enter that House, to watch them turn their tricks, marvel at the magic of their performance. Only the brave, the foolish or the Super Snakes who wait in the wings ready to walk on the stage. Take care when you enter that House. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2024/12/19/5-poems-by-lynn-white/

  Round And Round Round and round,  go the gaudy horses  trotting cantering  round and round the small sawdust ring with the Ring Master in control holding his whip close making sure the show goes on. Round and round they go, with a bareback rider  glamorous smiling swaying on a rump, but the smiles are fading now  and the once bright horses  drab and disheveled now hoping for the clowns to give them a break they’re staggering  lurching round and round  their treadmill. Round and round. Round and round. Just one more revolution and they'll be ready. Ready to bite the hands that refused to feed them. Round and round. Round and round. Only one more revolution, to sharpen up the teeth.  Round and round, just one more revolution. What a circus. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2024/12/19/5-poems-by-lynn-white/

  Watering Hole We all need a watering hole bug or beast, fish or fowl, mammal or mayfly, we all need it sometimes. Sometimes our eyes can catch sight of it in the deserty distance and sometimes  it’s close, so close but we’re on the wrong side of the water splattered glass looking out useless so useless we can only see it only cry tears  cry out for help. Will anyone help? Yes or no? We can only hope, hope that the ayes will have it, otherwise the eyes are all there are and only wet enough for the lucky little ones. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2024/12/19/5-poems-by-lynn-white/

  We Will Not Be Silenced We found a gap in the wire. Someone had made it,  that gaping hole in the wire, hoping to climb through,  hoping to head towards the light,  to leave the darkness behind, to escape the madness here, hoping, hoping. But the light became too bright. And now it’s blinding us. We can see less than in the darkness. Our mouths open, aghast with the horror of it all, gaping, gaping but determined to speak determined our voices are heard as we crawl through the gap the gap that leads nowhere. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2024/12/19/5-poems-by-lynn-white/

  Forty Million Tonnes And Counting Forty Million Tonnes  and what do we get? Almost a song lyric  written for those who don’t get older,  the uncounted ones lost in the rubble of Gaza. Forty Million Tonnes of homes, roads,  and infrastructure converted into rubble that will take uncountable years for us to clear and still longer to rebuild towns and villages,  to replant crops and trees. And who are the ‘us’ - the ones who will pay. The same ‘us’ as did it before and will do it again unless perpetrators are held accountable. And while this goes on, year upon year ‘they’ will feed those surviving living still in that wasteland of rubble. The same ‘they’ as did it before,  are trying to do it now and will do it again unless perpetrators are held accountable. And how will we, us, they and them  deal with the hate engendered. It will have to be dealt with, then what will we do as we count the cost once again. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com...