Poetry - Lynn White

Magic Words They say you have a magic tongue that can weave the words falling from your mouth into tapestries laced with gold thread. Curl the words into scented ringlets of flowers formed by petals shining like stars even in the sunlight. I want to catch them and hold on to them without any rearranging. To soak myself in their perfection, indulge so I can keep them with me when the magic turns dark black and the golden threads hard, when you turn them to sharp steel. They’re still your words with a kind of magic twisted together by your tongue but they have become projectiles, explosions of your anger and despair falling, but no longer falling gently. I’m going to catch them and hold them now so that I can rearrange them back to what they were. https://uglywriters.com/2018/09/06/magic-words/

To Break The Mould She tried hard to break the mould she that she could rise anew. But it wouldn’t break. She emerged the same each time, cold as stone. Statuesque. So she broke the stone. Smashed the statue with a hammer. Broke it in two. After that, it was easy to break the mould. https://literaryyard.com/…/rock-star-and-other-poems-by-ly…/ https://literaryyard.com/2018/08/04/rock-star-and-other-poems-by-lynn-white/

The Stack of Stones The stack of flat stones was piled much higher once. It formed a rough stairway all the way to heaven, till someone took it down to pave their patio. https://medium.com/dreamnoir/two-poems-cadbd3273d

Tomorrow Never Comes The orcas decreed that the dolphin’s wedding should be delayed by a day. Delayed till tomorrow, if tomorrow ever came. This would give more time, they said, to decorate the wedding gowns, to weave more shells into the kelp, the tiniest of muscle shells for him in every shade of blue, sweet pink cockle shells for her, sometimes veering towards red as if warning of danger. The music was to be rock ‘n’ roll, played by the Killers, of course on improvised pianos. The octopus was responsible for the wedding breakfast. He had enlisted the help of every friend to enlarge and beautify his garden. To transport rocks with anemones attached and bring a multitude of coloured pebbles and shells to enclose the fishy titbits collected specially for the feast. But in spite of their reassurances, still he worried about the guest list. So many orcas and dolphins who did not have a good reputation so far as the octopuses were concerned. But the gard...

Third Birthday Until I was three I had a pet rabbit. For a long time I took him everywhere with me. He was made of felt and stood upright tall and thin holding a bright orange carrot in front of his yellow chest. I held him by his ears which were dark green like his back. And then my mother decreed he had become too shabby, too dirty to be my constant companion. A wash did not improve his appearance too successfully. So he became my sleeping partner and I still loved him as much. And then for my third birthday he was allowed to come to tea. I was sick, too much cake, my mother said. Yes I was sick all over my pet rabbit. And then he disappeared. No one knew where. “He’s gone,” they said hippy hop. I never saw him again. https://blognostics.net/…/…/11/third-birthday-by-lynn-white/

Where Is My Place I creased the page to mark my place, but when I returned the fold had disappeared and I was unsure, unsure if I had found it. I scratched my head and pondered, was it really my place, the place I’d once inhabited in times past. It didn’t seem quite right. Perhaps I’d moved on too quickly, turned over two pages instead of one. Perhaps I should go back, retrace my steps rethink where I should be. Rethink where I should look. Rethink where I should look to find my place. https://creativetalentsunleashed.com/2018/06/17/anthology-release-essential-existentialism-the-meaning-of-life/

All of a Flutter Here I come all of a flutter, a flapping frenzy of feathers determined to find a space in the cooing crowd. A space that fits me. A space befitting a bird of a feather. And now I’m ready, red legged and pigeon toed ready to strut my stuff with the rest. We’ll take those tasty tourist titbits with a bow here, and a coo there. We’re their strutting stars shining iridescently making their day until our finale when we rise up as one, all of a flutter, a flapping fluttering frenzy ready for the next audience. https://blognostics.net/…/11/all-of-a-flutter-by-lynn-white/ https://blognostics.net/blognostics-an-innovative-experience-in-literature-poetry-and-art/2018/08/11/all-of-a-flutter-by-lynn-white/ BLOGNOSTICS.NET All of a Flutter by Lynn White All of a Flutter by Lynn White Here I come all of a flutter, a flapping frenzy of feathers determined to find a space in the cooing crowd. A space that fits me....READ MOR...