Best Lamp Shade Poems
Things I never thought I'd hear myself say
Back before my kids were born
Why is my toothbrush in the microwave?
And why is my recliner full of corn?
Who put my cell phone in the fish tank?
And why is there butter in my shoe?
I'd often scream "Get the bleach"
When I stuck my finger in their poo
Who left their underwear under my pillow?
And get that lamp shade off of your head
Quit calling your sister an evil troll
And there's no monsters under your bed
Who put the jello in the DVD player?
And no, you're not getting a pet snake
Who put this hot dog under the cushions
Get your sister's hair out of that cake
It doesn't matter what you ask them
The answer is always the same
"I don't know, I didn't do it"
And somehow they're never to blame
And his frost-clad lips I gently kissed
So mildly radiant amid this place--
That the silvery night grew quite intense
Until a gasp rushed from his cheeks.
While awakening to each other
Our throbs exploded into daybreak…
When sweet nectar of fresh beginning
Piqued an appetite's thrill…reborn:
Even though flakes bobbed near the pane
I gazed keenly inside those irises
Raw yet tender under gloss of lamp shade
Igniting my hunger for a charmed surprise :
And sipping cedar's pulp of intoxication --- a drink for two
Mint ambrosia through dusky air roused all hours
As we jived , swaggered along together--
On this flamed wintry honeymoon day~
Best Free Verse From November 2018 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Lu Lou ~ Written 11/25/2018
Submitted 12/10/2018
Your skin glows like the Watermelon,
blossoms Amazing as the Lily in the purest hope of spring.
My yearning heart rises to your Drumming voice
and leaps like a Giraffe at the whisper of your name, Bo.
The evening ascends in on a great Nightengale wing.
I am calmed by your Panties that I carry into the twilight of Remotebeams
and hold you next to my Armpit.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of Mountain Dew.
As my Nostril falls from my T Shirt,
it reminds me of your Lamp Shade.
In the hushed, I listen for the last ZING of the spring.
My heated Earlobe leaps to my Hobo.
I wait in the crystal moonlight for your secret Pot
so that we may Slide as one, Earlobe to Earlobe,
in search of the glorious Maroon and spiritual Trophy of love.
HAR HAR HAR!!!
My space ship of a lamp shade,
This little cardboard room.
What genius exists here,
In the abscence of the moon?
Your Braille Writer
I’ll write from right to left
while you read me from left to right
our hearts meet and we’ll never say goodbye
you are my precious gem in this world of change
remember, I am your hope and strength whatever happens
I’ll show you the light
a great assurance
that you’ll be alright,
like a bright lamp
just carry me
I’ll show you the path
giving you lovingly
the desire of your heart
just touch the dots
like switching me on
then I’ll show you that life is good and the world is so beautiful.
Date Written: Sept. 18,2012 by Leonora Galinta
Note: I lovingly composed this poem dedicated to exceptional kids especially the V.I. or visually impaired ones . I tried to make a lamp shade shaped poem as I was inspired by the manual braille writer I have here. I used this when I learned braille writing for V.I.
Second Place
Contest: Impress Me with a small Poem IV
Judged: 3/14/14
Sponsor: Poet Giorgio A. V.
Out of all of us my best friend
Came to an inglorious, untimely ugly end
We were digging holes inside a cave
But what he didn’t know was that he was digging his own grave
When it was finally time to go to bed
He turned around and a Nazi shot him in the head
He fell into the hole he had just dug
And the Nazi covered him up with an old dirty rug
They poured gasoline on him and set him afire
That was to become my friends funeral pyre
We were made to stand there and watch him burn
And the Nazi said, "This is your lesson to learn”
That night we all went to bed
Full of sadness, fear and dread
What happened that night really gave us a fright
Nothing was ever going to be alright
At night I see the ghosts of the lost
During the day I see the price that it cost
The Nazis have no religion or conscience
They only believe in killing and science
Later that day, a Nazi came with something he made
It was a very awful ugly lamp shade
On one side of the shade was something I knew
It was one of my dead friend’s tattoos!
Of the unfortunate unlucky dead
The Nazis were shrinking heads!
And they were making all kinds of things
Out of the prisoners, their gold teeth and rings
One night so cold I was watching my frozen breath
The Nazis came and took me away to see Dr. Death
He said he was going to give me a shot and it would do no harm
He rolled up my sleeve and stuck a needle in my arm
That was after Christmas in 1944 late December
And from that moment on nothing I remember
An American soldier told me that when he found me
I was walking around the prison yard like a lifeless zombie
Now it’s early May 1945
And somehow I am still alive
It’s amazing that I am not insane
The last survivor of the last train
To understand the holocaust
You must understand all it cost
In this camp it cost the lives of over a million
Of innocent men, women and children
Now we speak of all the lives lost
In the past tense
It all really comes down to the cost
Of all the dead and the presence of absence
Against all of humanity there leaves a void
A hideous heinous crime
So many promising lives destroyed
In one short period of time
Lives that were vital and present
All became past tense
And we can still feel and resent
Their absence of presence
Lamp shade shrouds my blanched soul
Dimming, residual light o'er weary heart doth roll
Flickering memories cloud my intellectual pole
Obscure shadows flutter through subconscious pinhole
Dusk, fading hope through my restive spirit doth stroll
Encroaching darkness shutters my resolve; my psyche doth patrol
Murky thoughts leaf through my sensory scroll
Shimmering reflections flounder, then my inner being roil
Foreboding sentiments my sanity will parole
Oscillating dreams eclipse all feelings of control
Loosely anchored in sinking ship; fueled by despondency's blackest coal
Mournful echoes sound in waves, marooning courage on lifeless
shoal
Last glimmer of twilight, now must pay the woeful toll
Shattered and shipwrecked brokered to misery's dole
Every time it rains...
I remember summer nights and feel your pain.
Clouds form under Angel's eyes,
They cradle you inside their wings.
Tear drops fall with prayers,
I'd give anything to start this over.
It appears I'm sleeping with the light on again.
(so alone, trapped inside that room)
Company shining from behind the lamp shade.
(and it feels no ones coming home.)
Lost inside that garden,
(Blood letters, scribed in solitude.)
Turning to that fractured looking glass.
(hoping for some clarity.)
Could I possibly look back?
( My lord the wolves are chasing me!)
Gray skies break once more,
Revealing sorrow through open wounds.
We've built our lives on blind chance,
A guess on which door to open next.
For now everyone is locked.
You've been a thousand miles away before,
You returned with spring.. The memories..
I will never again lose sight of the flowers,
I once saw bloom in your embrace.
Like the dreams when you showed me how to feel alive.
(I saw visions of the future, I could swear I saw you standing there)
Bringing in the morning sun with a rose in your hair.
( I saw beauty in the shape of a smile)
Remembering an angellic face,
I saw you walk through the front door,
but I'm still waiting for your return.
I've written all these songs for you.
(are you still a few words away?)
So many nights we've shared before.
(Please don't tell me every one was spent in vain)
After all I've wrote this song for you.
I would take the sun from my sky and place it above yours,
even if it burned like hell putting it there.
And I'd pretend it didn't hurt,
Just so I didn't interrupt your smile.
I'd do anything to say I tried,
Even if i was blind.
The truth is i did nothing.
(You showed me love through your heart holding mine)
I would change if you told me I could breathe,
My lungs forget to work every time I try.
Old yellow light buzz
like a fly by your ear,
a mummer in the corner
of someone's distant future.
And old yellow light sit
behind the lamp shade,
behind hidden like a criminal
robbing mother earth.
So old yellow light stay alive
while I write this poem,
hold on a little bit longer
while I try
try, and capture the 20th century.
Don't let me forget.
Don't let it go yellow light,
you're our only hope to hold heavy
the lesson's of the past
and the innocence of what we thought was
to come
Old yellow light buzz
just while I finish this poem.
While some still read,
some still hope,
some still think and learn
from the past.
Let it not be humanity's last.
Flushed and frothing in the late July heat
of a slow motion Texas afternoon,
I ventured a call home
and found you
there.
Still of the same soul
and still the same
half of my whole.
It took almost an hour
to remind you how much we breathed
when rust was new on the dog
and kisses hung from trees
like diamond tears.
Remembering December in July,
a pleasant diversion from this blistering heat.
3am Delaney Street
and you
with those matchbook blues.
Every box you opened up
was like a gift,
and suddenly it was Christmas.
I drank a toast to you and me
and me and you
and thought of Dutch and Parson Brown,
dancing in our socks,
a lamp shade and a windowpane,
yet nothing left for posterity
but this memory in July.
And me
wishing skies were not so high
and cement didn't dry
and that we could carve our initials
in an evergreen Christmas tree.
When I walk in
you are sat
with arms crossed
loosely
watching
two woodlice,
one trailing behind
too slow to keep up.
The light bulb,
too white
for a cosy
living room,
is naked
without
its lamp shade
and it reflects
in your eyes,
a tiny white dot
like a lone star
in the night sky.
Is it ridiculous
to say that
eyes are like mouths
because yours
are open right now.
wanna play
let me
sharpen
my blade
no more love
shall we slave
slices
of
my
skin
have
withered again
your lamp shade life
three dots off
perfected
mice
feeble are the minds
read me once
write me twice
terrible advice
word hunters
bullet hole for your head
smoking the shell of buried led
dust from which we came blowing
icebergs melting heat will glowing
riddle me riddle me tie my boots
fists
of
fury
in cahoots
letter to word
syllables down
poetical teaching
lessons from clowns
take some words
turn
them
around
look mother
what we have
found
loose lip poetry
the likes of which
mean nothing to me
i have escaped the time castle
tassels could never guide me
sea oh sea salt from me
this reasoning
my love will sail
my love will sail
my love will sail last galaxies end
pretenders with else pretended shall be captured
a wordly yellow awaits them in my dreams
never to escape from me
time feels my whispers
time feels my whispers
time feels
my
whispers as it whispers
my feeling are betrayed
all those wasted thoughts
just
wanna play
?
My Love is my pillar strong energized light.
Live for the question of new delivered hope.
To reach the perfection song of advanced human life.
The loving of being with someone is to reach for the ocean clear space.
I reach the life force of new creative humanity light.
I wait for my moment to be optional, into starlight design.
I ask for the beauty of Heaven, which beats into my Heart.
To be the radiant sun light of an enchantment light.
I Love the special powerful joy in my sensitive Heart.
My soul is at the peak of jubilee wrapped up Love.
Love is the sugar of my beautiful journey life.
Love Love Love, an inner peace, rooted deep in creation human living life.
Love is all you need, for the prosperity of your sensible incredible light lamp shade...
My Love of my new improved intimate, exciting new year happening 2012….
The Love of of real sentences in hope and Joy.
To be in Love in a euphoric state of mine.
The Love of a Beutification Glory inner light.
To start the romance into one open direction path into magnificent splender Love.
Gilded parasol on horizon's edge twirling
Twilight's lamp shade dying embers swirling
Sun's spent beams with embroidered frills quilting
Patchwork of tinctured gases simmering
Deep red, burnt orange ridges brimming
Violet, creme pastels periphery fringing
Dusk's opaque veil with palling shadows dimming
trust is often written
with counterfeit ink
it’s such a poor lover
mourning in the morning
as my blood curls
around the throat
of the world
and makes
the impossible
possible
soft sandpaper hands
promise and lie
like shadows entwined
on a lamp shade
the light goes out
water falls to
dust death
in wind shadows
low and down
liquor lips
and lies
and
the long goodbyes
trust me
trust
lies