A Private Affair
By
Lynn White
She chose the quilt colour carefully, bright red
blood red
so when she lay down
no one would see
her bleed out
emotionally
drained
empty
of the bright sunshine
that had filled her
full of joy.
It was always a private affair
so no one should see
and no one would see
as finally
she put it to bed.
First published in Nine Muses Poetry, July 2019, A Private Affair
Entertainment
As usual,
it was one tank that drew the crowd
down in the museum’s aquarium.
It was not the tank with pike
gawping threateningly,
their teeth barred
in anticipation
and hope
of attracting an audience.
No,
though there was a monstrous pike in it,
swimming with its mouth wide open.
But it’s mouth was open wide
in wonder,
in wonder at its strange environment.
Well,
it’s not often that a pike gets to swim
in a drawing room
furnished from times past.
It’s eyes bulged
with the strangeness of it all.
But
it was a crowd puller,
though still not enough
to satisfy such an audience,
the pike reflected,
as it considered the strangeness
of it’s very un-fishlike companion,
the young girl costume dressed
to match the drawing room,
standing there dreamlike
or maybe drugged,
steadying herself
with the chair.
Perhaps earlier she was seated,
when the water was lower.
but now she has to stand.
The water is already
up to her waist
and rising slowly.
The audience gets larger,
their eyes bulging fishlike
as they gawp at the spectacle.
They call it entertainment.
So it goes.
First published in Oddball, October 2018
Buzzing
I can hear the flies buzzing
since I 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
offered and escape.
Now there is no window to be
opened.
This is a closed space.
Eternal night.
No possibility
of freedom,
or escape.
Not for me.
Not for them.
First published in Armageddon Issue, Pilcrow and Dagger, February 2017
Bio: Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/
By
Lynn White
She chose the quilt colour carefully, bright red
blood red
so when she lay down
no one would see
her bleed out
emotionally
drained
empty
of the bright sunshine
that had filled her
full of joy.
It was always a private affair
so no one should see
and no one would see
as finally
she put it to bed.
First published in Nine Muses Poetry, July 2019, A Private Affair
Entertainment
As usual,
it was one tank that drew the crowd
down in the museum’s aquarium.
It was not the tank with pike
gawping threateningly,
their teeth barred
in anticipation
and hope
of attracting an audience.
No,
though there was a monstrous pike in it,
swimming with its mouth wide open.
But it’s mouth was open wide
in wonder,
in wonder at its strange environment.
Well,
it’s not often that a pike gets to swim
in a drawing room
furnished from times past.
It’s eyes bulged
with the strangeness of it all.
But
it was a crowd puller,
though still not enough
to satisfy such an audience,
the pike reflected,
as it considered the strangeness
of it’s very un-fishlike companion,
the young girl costume dressed
to match the drawing room,
standing there dreamlike
or maybe drugged,
steadying herself
with the chair.
Perhaps earlier she was seated,
when the water was lower.
but now she has to stand.
The water is already
up to her waist
and rising slowly.
The audience gets larger,
their eyes bulging fishlike
as they gawp at the spectacle.
They call it entertainment.
So it goes.
First published in Oddball, October 2018
Buzzing
I can hear the flies buzzing
since I 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
offered and escape.
Now there is no window to be
opened.
This is a closed space.
Eternal night.
No possibility
of freedom,
or escape.
Not for me.
Not for them.
First published in Armageddon Issue, Pilcrow and Dagger, February 2017
Bio: Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/
