Long Lightbulb Poems
Long Lightbulb Poems. Below are the most popular long Lightbulb by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lightbulb poems by poem length and keyword.
Hyper.
The start of tail ends.
Like floral patterns at the end of the light.
Hyper.
Takes me to the dark, blank staring competition with an immortal being.
And effortless drags me through.
Like a skidmark being burned away.
But lives another life like a bursting lightbulb.
Hyper.
I was hyper one Tuesday.
As much as that imaginary skeleton, brittle, undone.
Spilled coffee as if it was on purpose as cutting wrapping paper.
Hyper.
The start of tail ends.
I ate the last of the floral patterns.
Everything is as three dimensional as that staring contest with a skeleton.
I turned hyper one day.
Turned into a spit out T-shirt with chew marks.
Tuesday.
Halfway through shampooing the dog, it came....
A new idea for a poem.
I tried to scribble it on to the floor with a soapy finger
No one else to tell, except the dog...
He just looked bewildered, and shook his body violently
Splashing water everywhere, erasing my verse....
Quinching that wonderful lightbulb moment.
It was as if it had vanished into thin air
Gone forever.......never to be retrived.....
I asked my dog if he remembered any of what I had said
He just shook himself again, and I let him free...
My retriever ran off, like the words of my poem....
Free at last...free at last....
Retrieving a poem...or a wet retriever....isn't easy....
after months
many moons
taking to my
hairbrush
pulling out
the hair that
my brush had
pulled out
from my head
and beard but
what to do
with it as it
seems a waste
to throw away
so pondering
thoughts thinking
recycle
so first i tried
to be a cat and
swallow then
throw up
but
hairballs
aren't any
fun so then
drying it out
trying to
push it in
as if lint
into my
bellybutton
but it was
too small so
next
puckering my
lips as to kiss
adding this
hair to where
my mustache
already
exists
it tickled
my nose
to sneeze not
wanting none
of this
so thus lit
the lightbulb
above my head
a great idea
super gluing
back where
it had
come
from
touche
toupee
Form:
My mom’d just had a baby
And so to give her space,
My nana and my grandpa
Took me to a special place.
We passed a toy store on the way
And quickly we were stopping.
I found a doll I really loved;
I’d nailed this thing called shopping.
My nana loved to buy me things
But mom had made it clear
No matter what, there was to be
No toy or souvenir.
I left the store dejected
But we drove on to the zoo.
It cheered me and improved my mood,
As zoos are wont to do.
I noticed something rather strange –
A monkey with no cage.
At five years old the danger
I was not equipped to gauge.
As I bent down to pet it,
Its reaction was pure fright.
Before I knew what happened,
I’d received a monkey bite!
My nana was hysterical;
I guess I was as well.
The doctor stitched me up
And I kept up my crying spell.
To calm me down, my grandpa asked
How can we stop those tears?
A lightbulb flashed – the doll! I said,
Quite clever for my years.
And so I got a brand-new doll,
Accessories to match.
My grandpa’s guilt was dangling
Like a prize for me to catch.
The lesson that I learned was this:
No matter your intent,
A promise made is etched in sand
More often than cement.
The lightbulb was never the point.
It's the split second before it flickers on,
when the room is still dark
but your hand already knows where the switch is.
I used to think understanding arrived
like a guest, knocking politely,
waiting to be let in.
Turns out it was already inside,
rearranging the furniture for years.
Then one Tuesday it just
turns on the lamp
and says, there you are.
Not a bolt from the sky.
More like a coin
that's been in your pocket so long
you forgot to spend it,
until your fingers find the edge
and remember what it's for.
Or think of it as a word
on the tip of your tongue for a decade,
polite and patient,
waiting for you to stop guessing
and just open your mouth.
It rarely comes when summoned.
You can meditate on a mountain,
light candles, ask the universe nicely,
and instead it shows up
while you're rinsing a mug,
mid sentence,
tying your shoe.
That's the trick of it.
Epiphany doesn't knock twice,
and it never announces itself
as anything larger than a small click,
a key finally finding
the lock it was cut for
all along.
Afterward you look around
and the furniture hasn't moved at all.
Only you have,
one inch to the left,
just enough
to finally see the window
that was always in the room.
crepe myrtle
loaded with berries....
vehicles breeze by
crepe myrtle
sways but no wind....
poet wonders~~lightbulb
I was sitting in the truck while my husband was inside a big boy toy store and I noticed this crepe myrtle was swaying like there was some strong wind but I was not feeling it inside the truck. I kept watching then rolled down the window, stuck my hand out, and I look at the trees across the road. Then I start noticing as cars and trucks go by on this four lane road and bam the lightbulb goes off. It is the breeze from these vehicles going by. Sara
The rolling thunder shook the ground
Lightning, so close, a crackling sound
The weatherman gave the town a fright
But there she sat, on her porch all night
The lightbulb flickered, hanging ferns swayed
Firmly planted, on the porch, she stayed
Anger, not fear, was controlling her emotions
She wouldn't be moved by the strongest of oceans
As usual, a man was the cause of her rage
He licked her finger, she turned the page
Her villainous eyes, the deepest coal
He made her a witch and himself a troll
She watched, with a smirk, as her neighborhood shifted
When the waves reached her house, she quickly uplifted
At the breaking of dawn, her house was devoured
Her mischievous anger had overpowered
Careful not to leave a witness with a single breath
The town was a pool that reeked of death
If you ask of her, she is doing just great
Found a new man to court, eats on a silver plate
Her once blonde hair, now a copper red
With the exception of a few, people assume she is dead
A town wiped out at the delight of her wishes
She dare not be crossed or you'll swim with the fishes
We used to share dreams;
thoughts, my sister and me.
I occupied the top bunk, she the lower
in the cold, dank bedroom
we once inhabited from dusk to dawn.
Not prophetic dreams, the future;
we had no perception, illusions.
No exchanging, dissembled violent nightmares,
or nightly voyages traveled solitarily.
But joint adventures that filled the time
between awakening and permission to arise.
An alternative to staring quietly
at a half a dozen lazy flies
performing elaborate cotillion
around a solitary bare lightbulb.
The game was simple; A subject was agreed,
then tiny imaginary books pressed tightly
into blinkered eyes would lightly lead us
to places, we could simultaneously inhabit.
Seamless journeys to picture-postcard lands,
often hand in hand with much-loved authors.
Young Spanish kings, wise Arab princes,
Pink fairy queens and fiery golden dragons.
Flying, swimming, never falling, never drowning.
No words spoken; vividly shared visions;
two young minds together, escaping;
to places far less painful than reality.
Secret sacred memories;
each one I can still recall, relive, enjoy.
A Tender Moment From Childhood Poetry Contest: Placed 2nd
Sponsored by: Malabika Ray Choudhury
Date wrote: 05-June-2021
Once upon a time
Present became past
Engaging in your rhyme
You forgot, it wouldn’t last
You abruptly awoke
From an afternoon slumber
Equivalent abode
Different postal number
You couldn’t hear the sizzle
Of a simmering, dinner pot
Nor was there a whistle
To say the tea was hot
Mother wasn’t dancing
She wasn’t there at all
The silence was baffling
As you stumbled down the hall
Your lightbulb had been changed
As you knew it would, some day
But the timing felt so strange
Recalling so much gray
At the drop of a hat, just like that
Your story was Chrystal clear
You worried over tit for tat
Though, time, you should have feared
I'll never forget the dream I dreamt
That reshaped my very being
I have no doubt, need not attempt
Whole heartedly believing
My soul left my body vacant
But not to my demise
My imagination couldn't fake it
Too beautiful for human eyes
Loving limbs cradled me
Hovering over my vain vessel
Blind eyes could suddenly see
Two arms became my trestle
My familiar surroundings vanished
Stripped bare of my possessions
A state of calm, established
By undeserved discretion
I saw beauty like never before
Though it was there all along
Kept safe behind an invisible door
Of angels in peaceful song
I saw things as they stood
Without the shiny polish
I'll tell you now, it wasn't good
Beneath the tree of knowledge
The wind didn't feel like wind
As we flew through what we call the sky
No beginning or end
A repeating lullaby
I recognized many faces
Though they weren't familiar at all
I knew exactly who they were
Despite the faces that I saw
We shared a warm embrace
They knew who I was too
I was just piece of space
But they could see right through
Just then, like an epiphany
A lightbulb flipped it's switch
A delightfully elegant symphony
At just the perfect pitch
The angels parted, one by one
Revealing a magnificent figure
Holy Ghost, father and son
The epitome of pure
Though I had no shell
I hit the floor
Gravity aside, I fell
I wanted for nothing more
My knees weren't knees at all
Only a perfect spirit
Yet still I felt the fall
My ears could even hear it
I can't remember what I saw
My eyes are too sinful, you see
I know it was glorious and humbly raw
More than I expected it to be
I awoke from my travels
Still seeing things where they stand
When truth and time unravels
I'll see beauty once again