David White
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flankmire.bsky.social
David White
@flankmire.bsky.social
Slightly more interesting than cardboard. Photographer, scribbler of words and a lapsed filmmaker.
See how the world spins for only fifty pence and a sheet of bounce.
December 10, 2025 at 7:05 PM
Why does everything have to be tapped or scrapped or presented with the volume cranked up to the max?
How does the influencer equivalent of “feel the quality of this piece of tat” help sell me an aspiration?
Maybe I have become my father because all I get sold is annoyance at the absurdity of it all
December 10, 2025 at 7:04 PM
There is an argument going on between the wind and the trees.
It has been raging now for awhile with neither side winning.
They both have a lot to say and it is getting heated.
I just want to sleep but the sound of disagreement is making my roof nervous.
December 10, 2025 at 1:49 AM
He needed words like he needed a cup of tea.
He needed a cup of tea like he needed an idea.
He needed an idea like he needed a form of government that wasn’t after his one lump or two.
He needed to get out more.
December 9, 2025 at 1:56 PM
Show me your life style
Show me your thoughts
Show me your painted on disgust
Show me your click bait
Show me your propaganda
Show me your “creative mind” tacked on to another’s example of art
Show me your society amusing itself to apathy
Show me your cost effective hair loss treatment
Show me
December 9, 2025 at 1:54 PM
November 9, 2025 at 11:35 PM
The whale in me
Wants to take on the harpoon.
November 3, 2025 at 10:24 AM
Amazingly I have been prevented from walking through first class on a train in order to get to a seat. I didn’t want to sit in first class merely wander through it. Apparently not for the likes of me and my working class feet.
October 24, 2025 at 9:28 AM
I want you to know that the thread that keeps me here is old, fraying & tangled.

I am contemplating a replacement. A new spool needs ordering.

A new colour needs picking out. I need it to catch the morning light & stretch to a distance yet to be reached.

Not much to ask of the life I have left.
July 27, 2025 at 11:06 PM
There is a tired voice in my head questioning reality.

It is small, at the back of the brain, whispering its doubt.

It’s there. It has always been there.

Maturation with a doubting imagination posing as reality is like throwing dreams into the wind.
July 23, 2025 at 2:01 AM
I have a playlist of sixty songs that mean a lot to me…Good Vibrations and Heroes and Villains are on it. Thanks for the music that lingers and makes the heart and soul better Mr.Wilson.
June 12, 2025 at 1:17 PM
Jacque Tati’s Playtime is a brilliant piece of cinema. I love every frame.
May 30, 2025 at 10:39 PM
Even supposed safer spaces can be filled with the same scheming scamming scum. Be careful out there in social media land.
May 26, 2025 at 8:32 PM
The wave take my feet.
Sand swirled.
Seagulls gulled.
Ice cream vendors dream of restaurant flair.
I am drowning by the pier and amusements.

Life doesn’t flash past my eyes. A confused crab does.

Light on the epiphany which is a shame. Thought I was more interesting than that.

#Poetry
May 14, 2025 at 12:14 AM
You talked the most
but I hold my own.
Conversation confuses me and I lapsed into contradiction.
It’s a thing I do when I get nervous. You make me nervous.
Not for nothing words used to come easy but then again I had something to say.
Now nervous oratory just sounds crapulent to me.

#Poetry
May 14, 2025 at 12:06 AM
There is a treasure map rattling around in that chest of yours, she said.

X marks the spot. I have shovels. Should I dig? Or has it been plundered already?

A gold plated heart and a doubloon and some change soul. It’s enough to buy a pirate ship someday.

#Poetry
May 13, 2025 at 11:57 PM
I am ready to look up and see blue in the grey.
I am ready to lace up my boots of adventure and go wandering for more than a day.
I am ready to close my cupboard of uncertainty and open my chest of draws of destiny.
I am ready to eat my fish and chip supper of analogy - but no mushy peas.

#Poetry
May 13, 2025 at 11:56 AM
If I left a pen on your writing table would you use it?
I could provide words in tiny packets if it helps.
Would that pen be of use to you?
Or would the temptation to incriminate yourself be too much for tiny packet words.
I am curious. I have fresh pens standing by.
RSVP. At least try.

#Poetry
May 13, 2025 at 2:01 AM
Adrift on a sofa.

It’s that late kind of early when the night wants to stay being night but the day is looking over its shoulder.

Judging it. Wanting more fairy lights and caffeine to dodge day dreams.

It is okay because tired is a concept made of wet crepe paper in the brain.

Adrift.

#Poetry
May 13, 2025 at 1:56 AM
Pillow cases chase pillows across the bed.
They are cotton crocodiles wanting lunch.
The duvet is a mountaineer’s worst nightmare. There is nowhere to fix their carabiner.
You sleep too soundly for your dreams to breathe.
They are dried watercolours, parched and panting for brush strokes.

#poetry
May 10, 2025 at 4:53 PM
I am going to lay here in the semi-dark of a Saturday afternoon.
Bone tired.
Work caught up with me. I am a statistic this weekend. A quiet burn out.
I am crying at everything.
I wish I could be gentle with myself. Old DNA prevents me. My issues as a dusty coffee table book.

#poem
May 10, 2025 at 3:20 PM
It is messy. Always has been messy and as age takes me and lowers me into the dirt it will continue to be messy until they are playing me my favourite song out of the church.

Then the ghost of me might be quiet.
Then again probably not.
Heckles in the afterlife are a given.

#vss365 #poetry #poem
April 30, 2025 at 4:09 PM
Leaving all the broken toys in the box I am going to go look for how to repair them at all costs.

From teaching myself the rules to mechanics and glue I am going to take a fresh perspective on a day bright and blue.
April 30, 2025 at 3:22 PM
This is where the
Mundane stops and
Transfers to a
Connecting bus
Somewhere down
This jagged life line

#vss365 #poetry #poem
April 30, 2025 at 12:20 PM
I have been standing still now for a year.
In corners, at the edges and especially in plain sight.
I blend with all types of furniture, fixtures and fittings.
Shaking my world like a stuck snow globe I go looking for my winter of discontent and find no reasons in my seasons.

#vss365 #poetry #poem
April 30, 2025 at 5:55 AM