Poetry - Lynn White

  Some Of Them Are Brave Everyone knew it was happening the unheard story the tens of thousands dead, the millions displaced, the decades of rubble, the destroyed schools. hospitals, universities everyone knew. Everyone knew it was happening the unheard story even though the journalists were dead or expelled and banned everyone knew. Everyone knew it was happening the unheard story of the hundreds or thousands, or tens of thousands who had disappeared uncharged with any crime or misdemeanour everyone knew. Then three Israeli workers blew their whistles loud and everyone heard what everyone knew. https://samanthaterrell.weebly.com/shine-poetry-series/sept-1-lynn-white

  Colonel America Calling The dove sat carefully on Liberty lining her nest with down. A few feathers fell free a few loose feathers fluttering down   to feather   the nests below.   She cooed sweetly but her new chick   said ‘coo-ark’ mimicking her, then ‘quark, then ’yawp’ as it grew stronger, she saw her cuckooed dove hatchling was a mocking bird, calling in New-Speak straining to be understood, straining   for more space,   more gas,   more gold,   more like a colonising colonel,   whose eagle’s eye preys south then north. East then West are following next if we don’t clip his wings. https://samanthaterrell.weebly.com/shine-poetry-series/sept-1-lynn-white

  Midsummer Madness I saw a rabbit in the clouds it was eating something, but what was it? Didn’t look like a carrot, more like an ice cream cone, well it was a hot day. Perhaps it was no rabbit but a hare with a touch of   midsummer madness. Later it re arranged itself   and became a cat, quite definitely cat, a Cheshire Cat   no doubt about it hoping to join Hare and Alice at the tea party. And who knows, if the White Rabbit is on time maybe he’ll bring ice cream for all. Anything can happen   on a midsummer   afternoon. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2026/09/01/alice-poems-by-lynn-white/

  Certain And Impossible Events Age is surely a certainty, or so Alice had thought after all birthdays are hardly impossible events   arriving each year on the same day,   as they certainly do. But the Red Queen assured her that certainty was unnecessary   when it came to determining age. You are just as old as you feel   and seeing was believing anyway. So Alice reconsidered her hypothesis. The older one gets   the more difficult it is to know for certain, she thought. How can one judge the wrinkles under make-up or Botox. It was impossible to be certain. Really, she decided as she looked through her looking glass, age should become one of the six impossible things to believe before breakfast. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2026/09/01/alice-poems-by-lynn-white/

    A Question of Place ‘Who the fuck is Alice?’ said the March Hare inhaling hard. ‘She’s rather large’ said Dormouse coughing   as the smoke ring engulfed him. ‘I find her quite intimidating, actually, not the little girl I expected. Really, I hope Hattie   doesn’t invite her to the party. I don’t think she would quite fit in.’ ‘You’ll sleep through it anyway’, said the White Rabbit consulting his watch. ‘It’s time. We should go.’ The March Hare lit another cigarette. ‘We should all change places if she’s there’ said Dormouse. The March Hare blew out more smoke rings. ‘Who the fuck cares if she fits in or not, in a mad world no one has a place. Hatter knows that. He’ll be asking her questions.   He knows the place of madness.’ ‘All in good time’,   said the White Rabbit consulting his watch. ‘He’ll ask her who she is’. ‘There’s no answer to that’ said Dormouse. ‘No one knows who they are’. March Hare lit a cigarette. ‘If she can’t answer Hatter’s question...

  A Dormouse Dreams “Let me out, let me out!” cried the dormouse. “I don’t want to live in a teapot, not even in a dream! Let me out, let me out before the water boils for tea!” “Boiled dormouse! Now that could be a tasty morsel” Hatter said thoughtfully. “But would it be worth the risks of mousicide? We must consider” All nodded in agreement. “Let me out, let me out!” cried the dormouse. “Escape is difficult.” said the March Hare, “To escape you must go back, through the glass like she did,” nodding towards Alice, “but backwards and as we know, time only moves forwards.” All nodded in agreement. “It’s getting late,” said the White Rabbit. “But where is the glass, there is no glass!” cried the Dormouse. All nodded in agreement. “It’s time for tea!” cried the White Rabbit. And time waits for no one, not even a mouse. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2026/09/01/alice-poems-by-lynn-white/

  Like Alice I’m too big. I’m too small. I can’t I fit in, fit into this, rabbit hole world, any more than I did the other, the above ground world. Both can’t be wrong, can they? It must be me that doesn’t fit, that can’t be made to fit into them. Me that’s wrong. Both worlds can’t be wrong, can they? https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2026/09/01/alice-poems-by-lynn-white/