But does she have Translucent eyelids?

Posted on Apr 29, 2015

Just now thought of Translucent eyelids, a poem that came to me in the middle of the night in December last year. Entering into a Wholebody Focusing space, the experience came first. Then, I took up the challenge of documenting it in poetic form. This was well before Jenni Cargill-Strong and I had planned our Sunday afternoon 3 May storytelling, music and movement reTreat for women.

Must have had a direct line to Baba Yaga!


Translucent eyelids

Copyright 2014 Lynette Lancini

Claw Mother wakes me at 2:30am

hooting me in

with her prehensile chin.

I scratch, and ground.

Wide of consciousness and west of online

she wants me to strike her breath into sound.

Cognition, a cannula that gets in the way

of Claw Mother scraping her name.


Mending pile,

messy papers,

single sock.

Patterns of language, thinking and speech,

possible manoeuvres laid out like sheets –

the neat folded concepts

the gizzard in the night has

translucent eyelids. Is she alright?


Scraping these shapes of about is not it:

abouting, promenading, these words are like scats

pointing to where she has scratched.