Poetry - Lynn White

  Uniforms Uniforms What shall I be, soldier, sailor, clown, maybe. Grey suit, or blue, tailored jacket, short skirt. Hippie, maybe. Now there’s a uniform! Everyone different, not conforming. But, wearing the same signs, the signifiers, of non conformity. The badges that identify those waving the flag, or burning it. Beads and bangles, shell suits, jeans, leggings, jeggings, posh frocks, taking us to our comfort zone, Finding for us the warmth we crave. A part or apart. Perhaps we are all figments as made up and tailored as the uniform we choose. Even when we change, it’s hard not to choose a uniform. https://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2024/11/send-in-o-never-mind.html

  Red Alert It’s not enough to take to the streets one million two million it still needs more. It’s not enough to sign your name three million  four million it still needs more. It’s not enough to cast your vote nine million ten million think of a number million it still needs more. It’s never enough the clowns still will have more. https://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2024/11/send-in-o-never-mind.html

  Puppets The puppets are drowning now  their useful time has passed. They were always made  to become shadows to be discarded  by the string pullers when the audience was sated. The glove puppets and sock puppets are floating away  already tumbling like clowns in the waves and soon even the shadow puppets will vanish maybe then  the puppeteers will reveal themselves put their power on display  temporarily. For soon it will be time for them to change  their shape  and re-emerge to find new clowns, new clowns to seduce the audience. https://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2024/11/send-in-o-never-mind.html

  Bringing On The Clowns I always found them creepy the circus clowns I watched as a child. They never made me laugh or even smile. My uncle ‘clowned around,’ they said  and he was funny. A boy in my class was often described as ‘a bit of a clown’  and he was funny. But the circus clowns with the fake smiles and tears painted on their made up faces strutting their stuff around the ring, falling off ladders, failing to juggle or walk a tight rope, throwing water over each other posing and posturing in between antics, they weren’t funny, just scarily strange. And now the clowns are free, they’ve moved outside the Big Top the whole world is their circus now. ‘Send in the clowns’ cried the audience and they came on to the stage but no one is laughing. It’s no laughing matter. https://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2024/11/send-in-o-never-mind.html

  What Is To Be Done History is littered with stories of imaginary futures. Bread, land and peace were Lenin’s promises and the Bolsheviks believed them and, like others before and since, believed in themselves, believed they could achieve them. But power intervened, power and conflict external and internal and internal contradictions all in the mix and look where it took them. Such promises, such imagined futures, have a long history and a large geography. They were being similarly re-imagined at that same time by the early Kibbutz movement. Simplicity and co-operation in one harmonious state. They believed they could achieve it, believed they could set an example for the whole world to follow. But power intervened, power and conflict external and internal and internal contradictions all in the mix and look where it has taken them. We thought the monsters were defeated, starved, dead, buried with stakes through their hearts, but they were sleeping and being fattened ready  to...

  Oh Those Sighs There’s a hole in my face where the love gets in. There’s a hole in my face where love has left  a hole in my heart. I sigh. But still the bird sings https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DP1C3PJX?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR3FIpuFP6JdG8-if3DUg8hg21Nmqew_5fOH9T297l0M3HRka_XW674QdX0_aem_k-RK-jnhCwSv5kqFWy2vww in the dark. I sigh waiting for a song to fill the space love left. I sigh holding my heart. Oh, those sighs.

  The Impermanence Of Flowers The impermanence of flowers alarms me as it gives me hope. Only plastic flowers last forever. The impermanence of flowers gives me hope as it alarms me. Flowers should not last forever. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DP1C3PJX?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR3FIpuFP6JdG8-if3DUg8hg21Nmqew_5fOH9T297l0M3HRka_XW674QdX0_aem_k-RK-jnhCwSv5kqFWy2vww