LYNETTE SWANSON Writer/Author

I am a Writer and Author of three books (so far).
I Love to party, love hanging out with my mates, love meeting new people. I believe in karma..what goes around comes around. Life's too short to hold grudges so forgive quickly, love truly and never regret anything that made you smile.
Im inspired by people who dont blame others for their misfortune and who are not afraid to speak out for what they believe in.
BURMESE BATTLEFIELD
By Lynette Swanson
(Copyright owned)
Blood paints the pavement, loose limbs and torn attire
He hangs from policemen’s hands and right there, is forced to die
His mouth stained with solitude, black tape and purple wounds
And all because he stood tall and proud for his own relentless truth
Two blocks near, close-minded politicians in power
Perceived or real, cannot be fought and won by equally devoured
Tired, timid minds roam the streets in fear and trepidation
An open society can not be built in and through isolation
The generals stood on stage and shook hands in final agreement
That through a charter they would create much needed freedom
While on their very doorstep, muted fists pound the wall with might
And suited endless feasts, deliberately, ignorantly ignored the cries
To be free is to be seen and heard but not all humans agree
There are some who believe to be free is to indeed own property
And to this the greater world does cry to streamline the problems
But it will never suffice, if the right people with power don’t listen
And the hours pass and those who leave, are shattered as they hang
Pieces of themselves in plain view, still slightly scared and shamed
But no one single power has the right to lay the law
Identity and self expression should be free for all.
TAXI BREEZE
By Lynette Swanson
(Copyright owned)
Cascading, as though nowhere left in need
Shimmering lone against the violet night’s mask
There, my eyes remain, spirit vacant, behind my time
You quietly descend into what’s worth savouring from a past
And the world whispered condolences in an ear of chaotic tunes
Nothing here is digested for further fear of breathing last
In an empty alley the demons peer, my palms do bleed out loud
It’s not my fault you stained me, right where I held your heart
Endless moments devoured now by a single solitary embodiment
A moment scarred by inevitable choice, lacerating dreams to dry
Saturating my mind’s heart, for mellow days abound
Tender tips against my arm as the years now fly by now
And without conscious thought, the landscape shifts
I’m remembering tender moments as I watch my planes leave
Eyelashes merge and remain while your thoughts brush my skin
Love handling me… through this taxi breeze