Best Streetlamp Poems
(Streetlamp)
street
at night
shadows dance
to flickering
lamp
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Contest: Illumination
Sponsor: Steven Henderson
The dark of night does not know
the light as it curates dawn
of a new day rising bright
with a sweetened smorgasbord
of color touching the tongues
of nature thirsty for hope
in a world gone dry with hate
seasoned with our children's blood.
The city streets are littered with sodden remnants of fall,
a chilling wind moans low between brick walls;
my vacant arms enfold my shivering form
to shield a heart grown weary of the storm.
There is a melancholy feeling to damp leaves upon the way
as though some precious spirit has packed and moved away.
The sidewalk's sheeted puddles reflect the faces that I love
peering through the golden ramparts in God's city up above.
I bend beneath the streetlamp where my face with theirs' will blend
remembering us together the way it will be in the end.
Copyright, November 12, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Those pancakes look delicious
Street food under the street lamp
just right around the corner
The sweet scent wafts in the air
that fills the mouth with water
Perceived as satisfying
Freshly baked with strawberry
... closer to heaven feeling
Cutting through the shadows
of the asphalt homeland
As wicked winter winds blow
in Gotham
Light continues to shine
and passers- by are lit up
temporarily
Streetlamp - the only way
you communicate is with light
Man has now mastered light
Ever since the Neanderthals first
used fire
Man has utilized light to
his advantage
Streetlamp on the pavement
Just a continuation
of man's struggle against darkness
Candles, fireplaces and yes, streetlamps
mark man's conquest
over eternal night
One evening, under the pale light of a forgotten streetlamp,
I wandered through the garden of others' dreams,
Gathering ideas like rare flowers,
Into a bouquet of restless minds,
And I wondered, who am I in this realm of echoes,
Where rebellious spirits lay down words like stars in the black sky,
Where does my voice hide among these borrowed constellations?
And so, I began to search within myself,
In the depths of my soul, where the sea of thoughts
Crashes against the shores of reason,
Where the sirens of desires sing of freedom and fire,
Perhaps there I will find that unique spark,
A poem born from an inner volcano,
To erupt with the force of unspoken words,
A song of my heart in this symphony of quotes.
After all, life is so simple,
A play of shadows and lights, a dance of ephemeral moments,
Where we seek deep meanings in small events,
And perhaps in this very simplicity
Lies true beauty,
Where our souls meet in silence,
And together create a poetry of existence.
Perhaps I don't need another place,
Perhaps this page, this corner of the virtual world,
Is the stage where my dancing soul can unfold its wings,
Here, where my untamed words reside,
Here, where I can write my story,
With ink of stars and paper of dreams,
And let it fly, to touch other wandering hearts,
In a world eagerly awaiting a new story.
So, traveler among words,
I invite you to stay, to listen to this melody of the heart,
To let yourself be carried by the waves of my images,
And perhaps discover in these simple lines,
The rebel within me speaking to you,
In a language of the soul,
In a poem that, though melancholic,
Whispers to you about freedom and the beauty of uniqueness.
the refrigerator hums
clocks tick
a lone streetlamp
sheds it circle of light
snow-muffled steps
approach, retreat
inside, outside
the hush of midnight's beat
I gorge on black ink shadows
and gulp down silver moon beams
delectable, saporous
by the streetlamp marinade
me hallucinating art
on a diet of glow world
hue imbued hungry brushstrokes
dream garnish o'er starlit feast
most nights . . . I go for a walk
and rest at an old streetlamp
one eve- baked smells floated by
the comfort and warmth of bread ~ ~ ~
and was back in gran's kitchen . . .
the s w e e t aroma a hug
this girl 'savoring' a slice
with creamy butter d r i p p i n g . . .
Written: July 28, 2025, for contest sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
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Salted lips confect rust melt,
In my mouth hangs mango smoke.
Bread with oil seeps bitter gloom,
citrus spews on copper tongues.
Vanilla beats in the haze,
ash stays like razed molasses.
The lamp spills sweets on your chin,
my thirst croons of gold and grit.
sun-dried, saltwater-rusted
bench sits above cherry bricks
undulating like pan-fried
bacon strips, by the streetlamp
where lazy dogs whine at once
and also lose their bladders
and imagine chuletas
in the beaconed street's limelight
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Title of Contest: Sense Of Taste
Date: 7/27/2025
By The Street Lamp
Sputters in the thick of night
setting the pathway ablaze!
Flavors of foretimes return
bittersweet as my spirit;
A street lamp pours out sweetly,
upon my shoulders of bare.
Recalling honey-dew words
I weep, ...bitter tears for you.
Upright fluorescent streetlamp
Kind host of the village boys
Sweet memories twined with it
Cycling around the pole base
Playing hours with friends under
Mouth watering snacks nearby
Chat with girlfriend in starburst
As yummy as vendor’s trays!
the saltiness of my tears
drips upon my lips and tongue
after rolling down my face
from the blandness of our love
that was a savored passion
until the dawn of heartbreak
when our portions of love changed
and love became spoiled and cold
It fills space with sense of grace.
Vitality curved in stone.
Sips of serendipity,
linger on as sediment—
long after applause dispels
likes into cadent memoirs.
Mellow in contemplation!
Jelly-set in sentiment!