Best Floodlights Poems
An ebon sky, darkness to light
Diamond stars, mosaic night
Bright lunar sphere of brilliant white
Floodlights a scene of will and might.
The Fiddler’s Cat, sips warm Bordeaux
Fiddle to chin, strong paw to bow
Rosin to bow on amber ice
Wide upward swing, long downward slice.
A rotund dish, the restless spoon
Race through the night below the moon.
Ah, Fiddler’s cat empties Bordeaux
Strikes violin strings, with Dante’s bow
He plays of sorrow, he plays for chance
As spirits soar, he plays to dance.
He plays of peace, he plays for hope
To love and trust, he plays the most.
Fading ebon screen, pale ginger sky
An exhausted shrug, a weary sigh.
A new ordinance decreed by spoon and dish
Keep catnip away when serving fish.
Categories:
floodlights, imagination,
Form:
Couplet
Mindful
Startled out of nonchalant light,
Wakefulness stands at attention
Ignited flame from the eternal candle,
Energized vigil of the watchman
At the soul’s dawning daybreak
Tingling in the presence
Of every dappled infinite breath.
Rotating eye of illumination
Watchful, like a lighthouse beacon hovering,
Charts rocks and shoals through clear oceans insight,
Every nerve exposed in circumspection
Sometimes cringing in wary expose
Often basking in the light touch of satisfaction
As niggling prophecy finds confirmation in revelation
Throwing off the blinded penury of antonyms,
Embracing flashing synonyms of wisdom,
Tears of the heedful heart touch drab puzzles poverty
To polish with refinement’s shine burnished enthusiasm
For the incandescent dancing mindful
Then banish chary strobes of destitute indifference
Reaching beyond self-centered parentheses.
A lantern of thoughtfulness in floodlights
Of full harvest shared – no scattered crumbs of bread
Baked to stone in scathing flashes of the false
Eloquent vigilant splendor - never morning extinguished –
Torch to awaken lambent radiance of clarity’s joy,
Identity of the pilgrim heart, ejects sightless shades
Mindfulness blends the conscious scattered fragments
For Mosaics in clear lit portraits of charity's open hands
Throwing off the numb stalker branded carelessness
Born of intentional ignorance
Seeker’s actuated incentive to the attentive –
To hear! To see! To feel! To move in birth!
Action invigorated by accentuated humility of grace.
Date Written 6-10-21
Best #1 Poem - September 2021
1st place Trophy Win Poetry Contest - Mindful
Included in Poetry Soup Anthology - It's Still Poetry
Categories:
floodlights, blessing, life, light,
Form:
Free verse
Above, the shrill of neon lights portend
a promise of new love in garish hues,
but for a broken life yet on the mend
the darkness of the scape brings only views
of solitude when memory accrues
as strangers unimpassioned eyes peruse.
The music wafts from grottoes down below,
blue jazz and candles in a shadowed room,
while up here floodlights cast necrotic glow
as wind gusts and the drops of rain resume.
Cold luminance is all that they exhume
just as my mind expects a rose to bloom.
Your recent death keeps looping in my mind,
no passing faces in the crowd are yours.
I walk the night, imagine you in kind
emerging through the uninviting doors
like Cathy to go dancing on the moors.
I rush beneath an eave as now it pours,
your white reflection standing in the rain,
come back to haunt the neon night again.
1/23/18
Categories:
floodlights, imagery, lost love,
Form:
Sonnet
You flowered in the shade.
Headlights and floodlights
slid off your retiring shadow.
Occasionally the spotlights flare
lit-up your solitary walk
but only the footprints
you left fleetingly on flowing water.
I praise your independent natural nature
needing nothing of this world
that you did not give too yourself.
You refused to hang upon the exhortation of others
but raised yourself like a mother
in a hidden garden created for
individuality and abundance.
We other anonymous ones look to you
recognizing we are and were never apart
from the same sunlight we warmed our
hearts upon
knowing you were in secret
sharing that light with us all.
Categories:
floodlights, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
31st August 2023.
I didn’t see the moon in a pearly hue.
The ocean’s waves weren't a deep azure blue.
If the meadows didn’t sing a soft gentle tune.
In a pearly hue I didn’t see the moon.
Would you still love me?
Floodlights don’t shine brightly as I glimpse the starry night.
Waterfalls don’t cascade in a rainbow of colored light.
If the warm summer rain didn’t fall so lightly.
As I glimpse the starry night, floodlights don’t shine brightly.
Would you still love me?
Fairies don’t dance with gossamer wings.
No wind through the whippoorwill sadly sings.
Eagles gliding high to mountain tops have no chance.
With gossamer wings fairies don’t dance.
Would you still love me?
If all I needed was you, not the air that I breathe and love.
If my dreams didn’t bring me to you on fluffy clouds above.
If the sky wasn’t sprinkled with glitter and cupid hearts too.
Not the air that I breathe and love, if all I needed was you.
Would you still love me?
If I ceased to be able to rhyme, I could not write.
If eagles didn’t soar and doves didn’t take flight.
If I was no longer a poet til the end of time.
I could not write, if I ceased to be able to rhyme.
Would you still love me?
Categories:
floodlights, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Watching the clouds at dusk
and the deer in flight. . .
I wait for these beauties to cross.
The hue of the sky
morphs from ebony ~ scores navy blue;
headrests of angels tucked away.
Camry headlights illuminate
the warm-green of oak and moss;
unsettled as the shadows shift.
The floodlights hover
over the blue mountain poly-tarp
with potential nightlife.
Exciting the thrill
of heightened landscape — friends
of the sun, strangers at midnight.
Diversely the ho hum
of security, under the lamplight. . .
in front of the smart t.v.
nevertheless
August trance of romance
the images framed —
God of fame, gifted them.
8/7/2019
Categories:
floodlights, nature,
Form:
Verse
As the sun dips lower in the sky
And the ocean turns a deeper hue
Families pack up their children
Pails, shovels, blankets and shoes
The life guard closes up his tower
His day successfully through
No one lost in the churning surf
No one lost in the ocean blue
The coming nightfall brings a hush
Over the cooling beach sand
The waves sound much louder now
Then when the day began
Scuba divers arrive at sunset
Night dive gear in eager hand
Goggles, tanks and flippers
Are dropped on the indulgent sand
Quickly they gather together
Checking their regulators and BCD
Each talking expectedly
About what they hope to see
Underwater cameras,
Computers and flood lights sealed
The night life beneath the waves
Soon to be revealed
Walking into the water
Stopping about waist deep
They put their oversized flippers
Onto their booted feet
They slide into the water
Beneath the evening waves
Diver floodlights turn on
As the sunlight slips away
Just down the cooling shore
About a quarter mile away
A small group gathers firewood
And starts a bonfire ablaze
As darkness settles on the water
And the moon begins to rise
The beach becomes a different place
Then when the sun is high
Families are replaced by sweethearts
Strolling hand in hand
Quietly talking to each other
About their hopes and dreams and plans
The willets and brown pelicans are gone
Settled down in their hidden nests
Not worried about tomorrow
Engaged in a well-deserved rest
Taking a seat by the bonfire
Is a great way to end the day
Gazing into the firelight
Recalling the sights of the day
Categories:
floodlights, nature, ocean, summer,
Form:
Ballad
"THE BIRD CANNOT FLY"
No matter how hard he flaps his wings body won’t lift,
is it obesity or small wings?
He shouldn’t devour the food mother
fed him but do some exercise for flying,
worse yet,
he pecked on and bit siblings
in order to snatch all the food
the mother brought back causing them all to die;
his gluttonous appetite and cruel treatment made
him incapable of lifting his body in the air;
if a bird cannot fly, he is not a bird anymore
then, where to go and what to become to fly in the air.
"THE BIRD LOST SONG"
Although he had a beautiful voice
he drank sweet wines to have a more beautiful voice,
he smoked marijuana to have a more voluminous voice;
blinded by brilliant stage lights and fancy spots,
intoxicated from the shouts of fans, he ruined himself
in the tremendous popularity,
his fame made him arrogant, he fell into narcissism,
he jumped up and down on the stage and soared in the air
to tear down the floodlights hanging from the ceiling,
foolish enough to think that his feathers are brighter
more luminous than the floodlights; flapping his glittering wings,
he fell from the ceiling and was sucked into a bottomless pit.
"THE BIRD WITHOUT FEATHERS"
The starlight reflecting on a treetop is so beautiful
though he knew he couldn’t fly anymore, he stretched
open his old and infirm wings and flapped, looking at the sky,
to soar in the air; alas, Zeus’s thunderbolt struck him that moment.
His body was torn to pieces, his feathers were plucked away,
and because of all his cuts and bruised body, the remaining plumage
lost its splendorous colors; no matter how well he took care,
lost glossiness never to be restored, no matter how gently he combs,
his feathers fall out feebly;
when he looks back, he was a prisoner of vice
he was obsessed by insatiable lust,
the flower is so colorful
it smelled so sweet, he kept following
bewitched by the beauty of its alluring looks;
before he was aware of it, he got stuck in the mud, sunk into
the depth of vice; and though, he got out from mud just before
he was suffocated to death, his entire body was covered with
the scabs of evil,
the water flows, though he has no strength
to cross the river any more, it’s time to, he may be
washed away by the water, or dip himself in the water
to wash his scabs of evil out.
Categories:
floodlights, age, bird, life, symbolism,
Form:
Prose Poetry
I ran a string of lights across my roof they twinkled very nicely,
So I wrapped some trees out in the back, six of them precisely.
I hung a snowflake made of light in each window of my house,
My friends were filled with Yuletide cheer I even lit up my spouse.
The bushes got draped in lights like a wonderland in winter,
Then I ran a long strand around the deck until I got a splinter.
I framed each window of my house with a string of sparkling light,
They certainly bring a cheerful glow to my neighborhood at night.
I have an inflatable manger scene spotlighted in my front yard,
With a sleigh for Santa and his reindeer it looks like a Christmas card.
My mailbox is a candy cane with red lights twisted around,
When opened it plays a song that says Santa is coming to town.
Next to the chimney I’ve hung a sign that says “Santa this way please.”
I’ve got it lit with floodlights that I’ve hung from the tops of the trees.
I’ve rented a surplus searchlight that I’ve rigged with a Santa signal,
It scours the clouds above my house looking for old Kris Cringle.
I’ve lined the drive with lights to direct Santa to my yard,
I borrowed them from the landing strip of the Ohio National Guard.
Now when I turn the lights on at night the neighbors stand and shout,
Because my display is so darned bright it makes the streets lights all go out.
Categories:
floodlights, funny, house, house,
Form:
Light Verse
In the night sky of floating
ice, burning rocks, emerges
a disk of pale quartz, lit
by halcyon sun lamp;
in the wings, floodlights-
glassy emanations of
white diamonds squeeze
from the charcoal mantle
twinkling hot flashes
of digested plasma;
on the dark perimeter,
hoary stalagmites with
strobe lights powered
by a solar battery
spin in their planetary orbits;
shooting across ethereal
bow, cannon balls- igneous
boulders of ice and dust
with fiery dragon tails
stream into the murky,
dark sea of oblivion
Categories:
floodlights, sky,
Form:
Free verse
Just around the bend
Hopes to blithely blend
Libidos vigorously ascend
Seeking Lover's dividend
Below, town lights the solemnity doth amend
Above, translucent stars romance suspend
Precipice, a lofty adventure doth portend
Surrounding shadows with suspense contend
Steamy moonbeams brew a spicy cumin
Stardust cloaks with a glittering resin
Orion's piercing arrows passion lend
Starry-eyed lovers lap lust like gin
Floodlights dim in lover's cozy den
With a tender kiss carnal libations begin
Twining tendrils preen like a doting hen
Then in drunken revelry titillated parts spin
Charming potions stream from lamp of Aladdin
Enlightened hearts glow like a sparkling sequin
Tuned limbs perform their amorous requiem
Enjoined bodies in fatuous chorus sing carpe diem
Categories:
floodlights, romance
Form:
Rhyme
had Julian been even a sparkle in his
mom’s eyes
when Ray put the pen to Fahrenheit 451,
one might have witness the light being
passed
straight from one hand to the next---
from Zamyatin to
Huxley & from Huxley to
Orwell & from Orwell to
Mr. Bradbury & from Mr. Bradbury to
Burgess, from Burgess to Atwood &
onward &
as one picks up the torch,
cranking the floodlights on the
dastardly deeds of the empire at hand
12 more flick on their lighters,
17 more strike matches &
light candles, whilst the flashlights,
the spotlights, the headlights,
the energy saving sunlight bulbs &
even the bug lights,
all spread like rampant wildfire
throughout the world,
continuing the tradition
(one of the few worth keeping)---
Julian & Wikileaks, Anonymous &
LulzSec,
should not be assaulted but instead
hailed for what they are doing,
as the work they are producing is
of immeasurable value to our species---
they all run with the flame burning bright &
though idiots across the board still
buy into the propaganda peddled by the
masters spending $5 billion a year in
the campaign to brainwash more of us
citizens into
numbness,
we who work in the light
unafraid of these attempts still failing
miserably on us,
raise our lights in unison
for one day this world will be lit
perpetually, and not the largest
industrial blower of any kind
promulgated by the powers that be,
will be able to extinguish it.
Categories:
floodlights, life, work, work,
Form:
Free verse
ATTACK
I can still see their faces
mouths open screaming silent screams
silenced by the loud barking
of weapons, theirs and ours;
sudden explosions rendering moot
intensity of automatic fire.
They came out of the trees
running across the stream,
the dark forms bending grass,
their feet splashing water;
such detail of uniforms,
wrinkles and straps,
water spraying from their passage.
The trees behind posed an almost
pastoral backdrop of night shadows
cast in the warm glow of collective detonations;
Then the silence, sudden silence,
ears overwhelmed by cruel technology,
the breathless suffocation of adrenaline.
Darkness grew as senses dimmed,
the brightness of action fading;
there were bodies in the grass,
lying still in the water,
under my muzzle, within touch.
So natural in their motionless state
rather than fading into darkness,
the bodies, no longer men glowed
illuminated by the floodlights
of hate, fear, and remorse.
Hand stretching to my muzzle,
poised just mere inches away,
while I kept pulling the trigger
on a now dead weapon;
willing the rounds to fire
needing them for survival.
I died but still breathed
as a fickle moon glanced
and showed its dismissive light;
there was nothing but death,
the dead, ours, theirs, scattered
natural in their motionless state.
As I looked, my friend,
lay against the embankment,
he unknowingly met my glance,
while light faded from his eyes;
his blue eyes kept watching
and his face calmly smiled.
The moon fluttered then gone,
rain came in whispering,
my sense of loss overwhelming;
alone now I could only grieve
their death and that of the living.
Ever so gently the Monsoon
whispers its condolence;
the gentle fall of water
cleansing my brutality
forgiving me my hate.
Gradually darkening my vision
night regained control.
Categories:
floodlights, anger, conflict, confusion, courage,
Form:
Free verse
floodlights cast an artificial sun on slopes
voices of night skiers hang crystalline on still air
steam rises all around me
white fire on water
shrouding the hot spring
snowflakes ghost across aureoles atop black lampposts
then are swallowed by the night
or flutter down to the pool to instantly dissolve
fragile petals on kamikaze missions
I lean back
face swaddled in the Hokkaido winter air
neck deep in scalding water
in a schizophrenic embrace by nature
watching the snow drift
nature can be hot and cold
just like the way we treat it
Categories:
floodlights, appreciation, nature, senses, snow,
Form:
Suzette Prime
It was the thing I could not see,
Which till late I never knew--
For the truth resided distantly
And beyond my frail view.
But ah, the truth, both near and far,
I was ill-prepared to see--
That this refuge from a sinning star
Was never long to be.
How familiar are the worlds away,
As the floodlights softly fade--
The home where I will lastly stay...
The reason I was made!
Categories:
floodlights, allegory, allusion,
Form:
Rhyme