Poetry Showcase: Lynn White (March 2023)

A Model Woman

She set out to become a model woman.
It was what her mother taught her.
But her mother’s models 
were rooted in the past,
mannequins really
and no longer in vogue,
so her attempts were confused.
Conformity was the issue
but to which age,
which youth
should she conform
now or then.
It took her a long time,
a lifetime.
A lifetime
of making up,
of trying on and discarding,
a lifetime of self discovery,
a lifetime
to throw away the wigs
and become herself.

First published in Nine Muses Press, November 7 2019

A Question of Identity


On her 90th birthday she looked in the mirror
and tried to identify the face looking back.
She felt the same as ever
but the face,
that was the mystery
how could she connect the two,
how she felt and how she looked.
Perhaps a mystic would tell her
that the face had been through the fire of life,
but so had everything that made up her identity,
or more accurately, her multiple identities,
different ones for every occupation,
every relationship
and every situation.
The ones foisted on her by parents
were soon rejected and replaced
by the ones she made up for herself,
different identities 
but always the same person,
easily recognised
but not in that mirror
but something to celebrate.


First published in Bourgeon Online, Fall 2022


On A Sunny Sunday

It was a sunny Sunday,
a perfect day.
So he dressed them in their
Sunday best
and they went to the park
to play on the swings
and roundabouts.
My father.
My half brother and sister
on a sunny Sunday.
They were surprised
to meet her
as they walked home.
They were surprised
to see that
she was carrying a suitcase.
They were surprised
when she said goodbye.
They didn’t believe it 
so they went home
to their new council house
to wait.
She never came back.
It had not been a happy home.
She could be violent.
But it was their home.
She never came back.
So they moved to his parents
where they were 
only grudgingly accepted.
It was not a happy move
but it was the best he could do.
Sometimes on a sunny Sunday
she would leave the hospital,
escape in search of her family.
But they never found each other
again.

First published in Nightingale And Sparrow, Heat issue, Summer 2019

The Skin I'm In

I used to wonder
how I would grow
and yet still fit in the skin I'm in.
If we would grow together,
me and my skin.
Well, we seemed to have done
quite well
for a long time.

I used to wonder
how you would grow,
and if you would still fit 
the skin you are in.
And if we would grow together
and stay intact in our
separate skins.
Well, we seemed to have done,
for a long time 
anyway.

Now I wonder…

Am I still the same person
under the skin? 
Are you?
I think I am.
The outside has changed.
But inside my skin
I am intact. 
Myself as before.
I think.

Not quite so comfortable 
in my new skin, though.
It doesn't fit me too well.
Doesn't always represent me.
Doesn't look like I still feel.
Like I still am?

What about you?
Are you still that person 
in your new skin?
I'm not sure now if the inside 
has also been renewed,
changed.

And if it is only on the outside, 
that we have changed together.


First published in Anti Heroin Chic 2016

Spinning

I’m spinning a sphere
of mirrored glass and
I’m seeing my world 
differently.
Upside down.
Round and round.
Making me dizzy.
But
perhaps it was always
upside down and
spinning out
of control
in any 
case.
Perhaps.
Perhaps it always will be.

First published in Scarlet Leaf Review, January 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. Find Lynn at: https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/