Poetry Showcase from Lynn White

from pixabay

American Dream

We were such special people then, 
the two of us, flying high above the rest
like the arrogant angels we saw 
playing way above the clouds.
We could almost touch them
with our arms outstretched,
as we danced our way through 
a cinemascope of endless possibilities.

But other people were unimpressed.
They had no wish to touch the angels, 
or reach the stars, even if they could.
They looked down towards us, not up,
fulfilled and sacred to each other, 
with a specialness unknown to us.
We did not hear the soundtrack of their voices.
Did not see the fractures of their dreams,
or of ours to come.

But now we have become the rest
and know that we were not so special then. 
But just practicing for a life that would elude us 
as dreams remained dreams in cinemascope.
Dreams which became decayed imaginings 
growing dusty with time and fading,
as ordinariness reclaimed us and the angels let us fall. 

First published by Amomancies, Issue 5, Americana

A Not So Still Life

What a strange tableau,
a still life 
in a dream.
The birds flew over
and looked down on it,
but there was no place for them 
to hang out,
to roost, 
to dream.
So they didn’t care about the dust motes
escaping into the sunlight
floating like fairy dust
getting themselves organised
to follow their dream.
Did they escape
from the jar?
the bull is wondering 
if they were ever inside
and the birds don’t care as usual,
hardly notice her dog emerging 
from the mist to inspect them. 
Unmistakably her dog
just more amorphous than usual.
It doesn’t look inclined to chase the motes
or stick its head inside the loop they’re making.
But the birds don’t care as usual.

Only Dream Harder

If you dream hard enough
you’ll find castles in the air,
or build them.
If you dream hard enough
you’ll find secret cities 
under the waves
ruled over by a fishy king
with his beady eye on you
as you walk on by.
If you dream hard enough
you’ll find unicorns
and ride them across the desert
to discover lost oases hidden there
amongst ancient cities 
once in ruins
now recast 
in shimmering perfection
by harsh sunlight.
If you dreamer harder 
you’ll rise above the waves of sand
which threaten to engulf you,
float in the sunlight
instead of being buried 
head first.
It’s all possible
if you only dream harder.

First published in Event Horizon, Issue 6, November 2018


'To sleep perchance to dream'.
That’s what he said.
Sounds so gentle,
but there’s a rub,
a rough edge to this sleepy escape
that would see me float away
sending me spinning,
out of control
to an indeterminate end.

So perhaps it’s daytime dreaming 
that has the edge
to smoothly move me
from one place to another.
In wakeful dreams
I can determine the beginning,
at least,
and invite the participants.
they may act out an old story
with a predictable end.
I can write a new story
and then

bring it to life.

First published in Flight of the Dragonfly, September 2021

Dream Catchers

These hairy, feathery, stringy things
are supposed to catch my dreams,
but I don’t believe it.
I’ve hung them above my bed and
inspected them carefully in the morning
but I’ve never found a dream caught
in them,
Not even a tiny dreamlet.
they’re just a trick,
a deception, to make me feel
I can capture them and relive them
when I want to.
But I can’t.
No one can ever go back to a dream.

First published in Poetry Breakfast, April 21, 2016

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 and writes hoping to find an audience for her musings. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud 'War Poetry for Today' competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including: Consequence Magazine, Firewords, Capsule Stories, Light Journal and So It Goes. Find Lynn at: https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/


By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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