Best Strobe Light Poems
10,000 people gathered on the beach that day
as he entered the stage wearing sandals he'd say,
"WOW! look at YOU come to lend a hand"
Then he grabbed his guitar to strike up his band
Ten thousands strong held their drinks in the air
in hopes to raise money for the Gulf Oil scare
The Sun was his strobe light, speakers the same
Today is the day they all shout Jimmy's name!
But far above the crowd the choppers did film
while boats bobbed at sea just looking at him
for he'd travelled the world though mostly by boat
His love of the Sea meant a stick that could float
Yes there were women, wine, stogies and beer
along with his reefers he'd never known fear
Though quite famous his words as you see,
"If the phone doesn't ring. . . . it's me!"
-------------
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wVHKBMrPi7U
Categories:
strobe light, thank you,
Form:
Rhyme
Click
In the dimming light of her bedroom,
a child sits facing the wall in her bad chair.
She has to go potty, but she doesn’t dare.
So she stares at the wall in the gathering gloom.
Click
Her mind is swirling with fear as the curtains billow in the wind,
lightning streaks the night sky like a strobe light out of sync,
clipped exposures of the little girl shaking on her chair,
waiting for what’s coming with the thunder.
Click
The doorknob turns . . .
A wedge of light blinds her.
The witch stands outlined in shadow on the wall before her.
The child is no longer there, gone in the wisp of a blown out candle.
The wind and wickedness pursue her into a vileness she cannot bear.
Click
Circling in the broiling sky
is the nightmare that haunts her dreams,
Her little legs move as though caught in an undertow, dragging her back . . .
Screams choke in her throat.
The evil comes,
riding its burning broom on the thunder - screeching her name like a banshee.
Click
Screams pierce the night.
She promised herself she wouldn’t this time,
but the knife embedded in her back –
it’s the same every damned time.
Click. Flash.
Thirty years have passed and she has beaten the dream.
The spectre has left her and she is no longer afraid to sleep. . .
. . . except when the curtains billow in the wind
and lightning streaks the night sky
screams pierce the night.
Categories:
strobe light, childhood, night, light, child,
Form:
Free verse
Eden of my eye
Beauty in culture of ten million
Garden of my eye
Haven of brethren and sistren
Values never weakened, in words spoken
Freedom strengthened, heritage golden
Sprinkled love in dynamite
Ceilings of heaven in stalactites
Grounds softened by stalagmites
Citizens' history, written in strobe light
Magnets of loving people
Ore of the grounds supple
Blanket of salvation
Tablet and core of the nation
Categories:
strobe light, home, inspirational, people, strength,
Form:
Other
Lying about a lion
Crying inside my heart, dying
No longer fighting
Don't bother trying
Don't bother reviving
No longer wanting
To be without you
There was a time when it ran brave
There was a time that you had it in a craze
This lion was untamed but you
You made it a willing slave
Made it behave in a way
That made me think I was saved
Passionate days came rolling in
In waves
And waves
And waves
Every encounter was a strobe-light rave
Your love was like a labyrinth maze
It was all so confusing
It was all so new to me
Loving you so openly
Intimate and totally
I was finally saved
Open and free to roam and misbehave
To act and roar brave
My animal strength making you feel safe
But those are long ago memories
Remnants of many a yesterday
I talk of this moment
Where I'm stuck in a cage of today
Lying about a lion
Crying inside my heart, dying
No longer fighting
Don't bother trying
Don't bother reviving
No longer wanting
To be without you
Categories:
strobe light, lost love, repetition,
Form:
Rhyme
I walked past my pantry
Late one Friday night
To the sounds of what appeared to be
The goings on of a party inside
I grabbed a hold the latches
Swung wide open the door
With absolutely no earthly idea
Of what was soon in store
Colorful lights were flashing
Somewhere in the back
I moved aside the ketchup and mayo
To see where it was at
I took out the pickles and saltine's
So I could better see
What all the commotion was inside
Of my food pantry
That's when I saw the flashing lights
Inside the jar of Nutella
I picked it up right away
Me being a some what curious fella
As I held it at eye level
It vibrated in my hands
In what felt like a driving rhythm
From a 70's Disco band
Can't say I wasn't nervous
As I loosened up the lid
No telling what was going on inside
What dangers lay ahead
With both hands slightly shaking
I removed the rounded top
There was a party in the making
And it was going on non stop
The Nutella had it's boogie on
Or if you prefer, it's groove
Whatever you wish to call it
A party was the mood
There was a strobe light and confetti
Even a tiny Disco ball
As I gazed over the edge of the jar
I saw banners wall to wall
I guess you could say Nutella
Is quite the party treat
That may cost you at the grocery store
But once home the cover charge is free
Categories:
strobe light, funny, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
Expectantly through the dingy window I gape
Lucid for now but only flickering
Waiting not so patiently, coveting escape
Reflecting on the spectral fervent whisperings
Drawn deeper into the haunted labyrinth
Crushed by the ache of this place
Catching fleeting images...a list of failed intents
Heavy darkness; I cannot breathe within this dying space
Floating slowly through the murk
Like the ghostly answer in an eight ball
Silently pondering every little quirk
Forced into silence by a sudden free-fall
Strobe-light convolution as I twist and writhe
The dingy window my only hope
But insanity knows not of this: refuses to recognize
Through sickly illumination.....now I see the scope
The nature and flow of destruction
Like lava beds ebbing slowly through a dying wood
My heart races with unwelcome knowledge and recognition
…There is no way out because this dingy window is my
prison-cell view to the normal world
Categories:
strobe light, confusion, depression,
Form:
Rhyme
Zotëri Count Dracula
is a terrible, Transylvanian host
Mister Tarantula Fangs serves watered down
fermented, sour liver compost
I know
because my Planet Terror peep Tarantino
said so
Vladdie’s batty bandë
campy lip sync way too much on the fly
Playing air guitar riffs
that’ll make any party stiff Mummy die
This I know
because my dungeon babe Elvira
en-crypt texted me
the down-low
Domnule Wolfman
Were a bad-tempered, English bog bloke
Mister Aristy Lycantrophe takes liquid
anger management medication
This presto change-o firewater potion
got a mean Romanian bite
It ain’t no Jekyll-and-Hyde Howling joke
Please Pumpkinheads, don’t ask me
how I know ...
Because my cannibal pal Hannibal L.
said it’s a sacred doctor/patient violation
to divulge this info
So my tasty Mikey Myers marshmallows,
gather ‘round
the strobe light, crystal ball cellar campfire
Get Jiggy Saw off the hook Hostel
Just how slasher far,
Rocky Horror Picture Creepshow
do you wanna go?
Old school, vintage reel macabre Blob snuff action:
Vic and Frankie Boy, lab cadaver number one son,
will do a drunken, shrunken head dance
with Morticia and Harley Quinn
Be advised,
not to Monster Mash skull butt in
So have some Terminator fun
you Alien party animals
Lose all Nightmare on Elm Street bladder control
Take a Bughuul trickster treat
out of the Jeeper Creepers Candy Man belly bowl
There’s only one parasite Thing,
death notice Lurch doorbell ring, to remember
at this Pet Semetary open house invitation:
When you give a Skeleton Key
Premature Burial ghoul greet,
the proper zombie etiquette scream
must be 1408
ten shivers delivered
Hellraiser late
Cower in fear,
when you see the floating head
of Jacob Marley's ghost ...
his haunting eyes telling you —
Don’t cross the host,
at his own Halloweenie roast!
Categories:
strobe light, fun, humorous, parody, word
Form:
Light Verse
Where are all the hippies from yesteryear,
did they pack up in their love bugs and disappear?
What happened to the summer of love,
and the freedom to express said love graphically?
Did they go on a long, long winter break,
and forgot and left the neon lights on, which now glow so dimly
Oh, who can remember the pretty flowers and the jasmine,
the aphrodisiac smoke filling the electric air,
with those sonic guitars blaring everywhere
People dressed so psychedelic back then,
and what other people thought, they didn't care
Where has it all gone?
Have they all gotten old with no long hair and short lungs,
wearing thick glasses with therapeutic shoes on?
What time of life was it when their minds finally floated back to the ground,
when did they stop bed hopping around and finally settle down?
Be gone, be the days of smoke and haze
Be gone, be the years of drifting in a daze
Count the number of the remaining cells in your brain,
turn over the hourglass to reverse the life of living insane
Be gone to the hippie days,
be gone to the loose, loose ways
Be gone to the mind numb-ery,
This gen party is over, time to pick up the debris
Be gone ...
the last one to go, don't leave the strobe light on
Categories:
strobe light, humor, humorous, satire, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
I drag myself in to a dark cold room.
Suddenly the strobe light comes on,
Flashing around like white lightning.
My head starts to spin, I feel nauseous.
Every millisecond of light reveals a face,
Different faces flash around me,
Some of them I haven’t seen for a while,
Some of them I come across each day.
I feel a blow to my stomach,
Another one to my head, it keeps on coming.
The stinging pain hits my soul,
I can’t hide, I can’t defend.
Blow after blow, hit after hit.
It seems familiar, the pain.
And then it stops, gone.
No strobe light, no faces, no hits.
Pain still lingers, slowly fading away.
And the light appears,
Coming from an old dimmed light bulb.
I see mirrors around me,
Dusty cracked mirrors,
And the face, the bloated disgusting face.
Eyes full of tears, with no life in them.
I light up a cigarette, my knuckles bleeding.
I look and I know there’s no way to run,
No way out of this room,
No safe path to take.
Categories:
strobe light, anger, angst, death, depression,
Form:
ABC
STORM OF PRAYERS
Air reeks of dragon’s esteem ‘longside cyclonic wings of courage.
Strobe light-shadow rivals ~ swords thunder, silver flashing, flooding clouds.
Regret of demons ~ cherub tear drops plummet to earth, heart-shaped.
7/16/2017
Broken Wing’s Contest
Form Used: Sijo
Categories:
strobe light, angel, conflict, courage, prayer,
Form:
Sijo
The staccato stammering of bass guitar’s play
punctuated with the flash of purple strobe light.
Limitless is the vista of black and gray fright
ominously smothering the crowd’s ghoulish array.
Framed, as if frozen, in this acid white display,
some stagger in mimicking movements of blight
trapped between the pulse of night and daylight
Maudlin in the rigors of dapple-gray.
Upon invisible strings they dance in disarray.
Life existing only in the limits of after sight,
entranced in the apocalyptic crash of might,
the harsh, hard, synthesis disperses at mid-day.
Categories:
strobe light, imagination, parody, people
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
I tend to think stranger in strobe light
Something about this floor isn't right
I keep seeing my woman waltz away
With my arch-rival
It's a great depression –
If you must dance, dance for survival
The show gets better the longer you look
I finger my philosophy book
And take a page from the age
Of piano recitals
It's a great depression
And if you must dance, dance for survival
Didn’t you know I could read your thoughts
Respect the whip, I was always taught
Speak softly and carry no stick
Or be held liable
It's a great depression and if you must dance,
Dance for survival
You push the rock like the tragic will
Good blood has been shed on many a hill
Give it a week,
And even God will feel suicidal
It's a great depression
And if you must dance,
Dance for survival
Let's give this baby a little juice
Massage the gears till the grease cuts loose
Make it your own, should the engine
Slip into idle
It's a great depression and if you must dance,
Dance for survival
Get off my continent, you fraud
And you dare call yourself a god!
Keep talking this way and I swear,
I'm gonna go tribal
It's a great depression
And if you must dance,
Dance for survival
Now I'm all settled to do my part –
Altamira, with a place for my art
From this point in time,
I can perceive the onset of a cycle
It's a great evolution
And if you must dance,
Dance for survival
Categories:
strobe light, anxiety, dance, death, depression,
Form:
Verse
This broken heart,
In sorrow beats,
in soulless measured time.
A harp without a harpist,
a poem without a rhyme.
futility in hollow words,
now permeates the void,
and resonates in nothingness,
the sound of hope destroyed.
From archived reels of memories,
minds data banks rewind,
replaying silent movies,
on screens within the mind.
Favourite haunts and playful taunts,
now close the eyes with pain,
each strobe light flickered image,
freeze frames the past again.
Rip from this heart and throw away,
the root of such despair,
pluck from this bruised and wounded heart,
this deeply buried tare.
Allow this broken thing that pounds,
Its pain in sorrows den,
to beat again in rhythms of love,
in agonies of time.
Categories:
strobe light, lost love
Form:
Rhyme
We all had homemade dresses for prom; well, nearly all of us.
This was back in 1970 while black and white Viet Nam War photos were on TV
Every night, we saw such sadness.
Prom was a reminder of childhood.
Back to the Bibbity Bobbity Boo of Cinderella.
We girls were wearing empire waist dresses.
It was the style, little bows at the top of our hair.
We were fancy poodles, primping in our two inch heels.
Not high ones like our mothers. We had already fallen off those.
Traded in our hip hugger bell bottoms that magical night
For dresses in chiffon, polished cotton, and satins.
We were so shiny, it is a miracle a murder of crows did not carry us off.
The boys had on their best suits; not tuxes.
We were in a small Iowa farm town.
Many of the couples would marry two weeks later after graduation.
I remember how hard the junior class worked to make it beautiful for us.
There were tin foil stars and crepe paper streamers everywhere.
A strobe light, and music piped in from the folk heroes of the time.
Peter Paul and Mary, Mama Cass, Simon and Garfunkel.
Sometimes a song by Cher or Bette Midler but not as often.
The food was fantastic. The company wonderful.
Our first semi-formal dinner. I have never forgotten it.
In one way it was like middle school which we called junior high.
The boys stood around talking and laughing, and the girls danced like mad.
It was such an innocent and fun time! Taking the Viet Nam War,
And the assassinations of John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King
Out of our minds for one magical bibbity bobbity boo night.
May 1970. A memory that uplifts me to this day.
The last time I spoke to some of my classmates.
As a few were sent to Viet Nam after graduation never to return.
Categories:
strobe light, 12th grade, memory, nostalgia,
Form:
Lyric
OH, CHRISTMAS TREE
Denial covers its tracks -
clouding the memory.
SILVER, it was freakin’ SILVER!!!
Glittering, glossy, garish, tin foil, SILVER!!
Required no ornamentation,
no tinsel tossing, no death
defying wiring, only a spinning
rainbow disk to splash
crayola colored lights
upon SILVER branches.
It resembled a fringed
strobe light hanging
from an inverted ceiling.
I would imagine
Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders
shaking silver Pom-Poms
cheering it on.
There would be therapy,
recurring dreams –
lost in a tinsel silver forest
on a distant Christmas Eve.
When we threw it out
I placed it in front of
someone else’s house.
Occasionally,
at Christmas,
someone will ask:
“Do you remember…..”
only to be pounced upon
and silenced -
Denial covers its tracks.
©12/8/2017
submitted to – Christmas Tree – Poetry Contest
Categories:
strobe light, christmas, humorous, tree,
Form:
Free verse