Organic Matter

Another random word poem. The random words being: Found; library; house; lost; field; diamond; connection; pork (?!) It was going oh so well - until The Professor (because he is one) decided to chuck "pork" into the mix! The other month he lobbed in "mushrooms". I think he's trying to create a ruddy word stew! Ah well, challenge accepted....   I found myself Inside myself My library housing memories, I ran my thumb Through dust The shelves Packed high With all of me. Beside myself I lost myself In forgotten fields With diamond friends, I cried myself to sleep And dreamt Of bonds forgone;  Connections spent, Within myself A whisper spoke The spell cracked open; Wisps of smoke Spiralling in And now I’m choking… “The pork !” I croak - The ruddy pork was roasting! Scratch that:  It was certain toast! My hash to ashes And my ghosts? Chased off by smoke… Mel White 2026

So, I thought it was time to introduce you to my favourite muse:  Tigger - A.K.A The Tigster; TiggyWiggles; Mr T; Orange Boy; various other random word combinations that have a tenuous link to his actual name or the fact that he's a rather glorious (if perpetually miserable-looking) orange cat. He's my little brother-from-another-mother (and father - obviously) i.e he's my parents cat (or - as he would argue - they are his people!). He's quite bonkers and I love him. He also - like most cats - is quite judgy, as demonstrated perfectly by this picture: Tigger (and no, he is not amused!) My first poetry group prompt was: Spring . So this, ladies and gentlemen was the very first poem I wrote... Spring The coil of happiness.. Sends The Orange One bounding Patting and pounding His most favoured plaything - The Spring Gleefully tussling Yellow eyes narrowing “Look Mum - I’m hunting!” “The spring!” Upside down tumbling Legs flying jumbling “Where is it hiding??” “My Spring?!...

Word prompt: Eclipse Eclipsed Acknowledgement was bare She wasn’t there for him to care; She was for show The butt of jokes; Her light eclipsed By tar-black “wit” His flippant pitch Too much to bear She bit her lip; She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there, She was eclipsed. She didn’t speak; Shame rendered meek Contempt cut cruel Cast her the fool For years and years The jibes, the jeers The public show The private blows Poisonous quips From sneering lips And through it all She bit her lip; She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there, She was eclipsed. But then an utterance  Fell from that bit lip; Stilted stuttering Milky white At first, Then brighter Still tight Still terse But fiercer;  Lips taut archer’s bow Arrow loaded Voice held low: “No” Him: slack jawed  But she had more; Warming to her fight Ignoring rage clouds in his eyes Sunlight gleaming through her skies And she said: “NO” “No more hiding in your shadows No more darkness And your shallowness No more me mild-mannered mee...

  The Map If I could draw a map of me, For you, the blues, the evergreens, The reds, the rage, the what has been, The winding rivers rapids deep, Plumbing depths through tangled reeds, Reveal the inner parts of me, For you, the truths, The whispered words, Through waterfalls   The crash  The roar;   They went unheard But fell down deep to ocean’s floor, The crash  The roar The nevermore. But, Livid lava vivid Bubbles up to scarlet skies The anger deeply crimson Cutting paths through wounded pride I hide wild unharnessed places Uncaressed by man’s cruel hand Uninhabitable spaces Deep within my hinterland. This map of me you helped to draw, That crash That roar I felt it raw Your crash,  Your roar, My earth laid scorched; I kept the score, Then locked that door. No crash, No roar, Not evermore . Written by Mel White 2026