Friday, 14 February 2025

Five Poems by Lynn White

 






On The Beach



I’ve seen the towers many times

pebbles piled up high

all shapes and sizes

finely balanced 

temporarily

against the incoming tide.

I’ve admired them

I thought them surreal,

a little out of place.

But I’ve become used to them,

they’ve become an ubiquitous part

of a normal beach scene

no more hyper-real

than the chocolate box images

of thatch and English cottage gardens.

Only the face or artifice 

of Art.





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 garden was beautiful

and surely it was a fact

that tomorrow never came.

He had always believed it.

Now time would tell.


First published in Oddball Magazine, June 2017






Fish



They called me ‘Fish’

which I thought somewhat unoriginal,

but they were kind and fed me my favourite foods

of prawns and chocolate

and I opened my mouth and wiggled my fins

to show my appreciation.


Sometimes plastic bits had blown into my pond.

I’d tested them for food worthiness

and spat them straight out,

so tasteless and with a tough unpleasant texture.

I’d rather eat raspberries,

well, perhaps not raspberries,

but fish food,

yes, I’d rather eat fish food.

But I wouldn’t let my human friends know 

that this was an option.


I was still concerned about Brexit 

and wanted to make sure that 

their stockpile of chocolate biscuits

was adequate to see me through.

When they give me a luscious big piece

I always give them a big wet kiss in return.

They seemed to like it

and really it’s no trouble,

they are so sweet.


There are other issues that cause me concern.

The frog they call Croaker told me

that numbers of dolphins

had washed up dead 

with pieces of plastic in their bellies,

and not the ubiquitous micro

but chunks,

big chunks.

I knew that dolphins were mammals

and that mammals were said to be

the most intelligent of sea creatures,

yet they ate plastic!

It gave me food for thought.

Croaker says salt water causes brain death

and he seems to know most things about life and death.


They’d told me that I was very old

and that the oldest goldfish

had lived for forty four years.

I didn’t think I was quite there yet,

but one thing I knew for sure -

when I did sink into 

the big pond in the sky,

no post-mortem would reveal 

plastic pieces in my belly.

Or raspberries.


First published in Poets Online, Dramatic Monologue issue, June 2024






Crossing The Line



As the ship drew closer to the line of the equator

the sea king began to lick his lips in anticipation

of the celebration which would mark the occasion

and of the fat fresh tadpoles 

which Big O and his waiters

would serve when he returned from the ceremony.

Of course,

tadpoles that could swim in the ocean were unknown,

but Big O knew that the frogs on board

would have given birth long before the line was crossed.

Tadpoles were the king’s favourite party food

and he had already a collection of shells to serve them in.

He had been training the waiters for some time.

He always did when they heard

that a ship was approaching the line.

His octopuses were in great demand.

With eight arms they were the king’s waiters of choice

and he had more standing by ready to become wine waiters.

They would serve the rum that would be gifted

when the king went on board

and roared

and waved his sceptre around a bit

and struck the deck with three loud raps

to signal his judgement on which tadpoles

should become food for his homecoming party

and which he could call his sons and trust

to raise frogs to supply his future treats.

The octopuses waited wondering how hard they must work

before the king and his retinue were sated and sleepy

from fat tadpoles

and watery rum.

It would all depend on the bargain struck on board,

tadpoles for now or more tadpoles for later,

rum for the king, or more rum for the waiters.

Big O always tried to assess the king’s mood before

he made his judgement.

It would be a clue as to how many shells would be needed

after the ceremony.

Small shells were easy for the waiters to collect,

but the large ones to hide the rum for later

were hard work and needed several arms

to fill them and stash them in the sand out of sight

for when the king and his followers slept.

As usual the sleeping king dreamt

of octopuses dancing drunkenly

on his table

and was that Big O wearing his crown?

He woke, combed the weed from his hair,

retrieved his crown from under the table and pondered.

Did he really see it on the head of Big O in his dream?

Recurring dreams were such a strange thing, he mused.

Then, puzzled he surveyed the broken shells

on the table.

He wondered how they came to be broken.

Had his dream come true?

He straightened his crown

and looked for his sceptre

to bang on the ground.

He really must speak with Big O.

Somehow, he thought,

a line had been crossed.



First published in Terror House Magazine, April 12 2022






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 it’s mouth wide open. 

But it’s mouth was open wide

in wonder,

in wonder at it’s 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










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. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including: Consequence Journal, Firewords, Capsule Stories, Gyroscope Review, Blue Pepper, Arachne Press and So It Goes. 

https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/

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