Long Lightbulbs Poems

Long Lightbulbs Poems. Below are the most popular long Lightbulbs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lightbulbs poems by poem length and keyword.


Jimmy Page Was Here On July 4th

As the sun sets
A hot wind like this
Does not belong in downtown Lansing
But here it is
Speed-boating down the Grand River grinning and wearing Ray-Bans

My wife and I
We hold down our pouncing bouncing patio table
At the Waterfront Bar and Grill
As if we were airborne soldiers just landed
But still attached and tangled
To our thumping jumping parachutes

Strings of lightbulbs clattering like teeth above us
Hung from under the Friday night tent
96 degrees even as the day sinks to evening.

The river converts to beer and shots of whiskey.
The catfish are buzzed and jump for joy.

The four member rock band is amped up
With the addition of a mandolin
And plays the entire second side in order
From Led Zeppelin III
But replacing at the end Hats Off (To Roy Harper)
With Hey Hey What Can I Do? as one big set.

Who does that?

We notice there are well-known bartenders
Playing hooky from working anymore
At the drab and deadly chain restaurants
Back in the townships.

We should all follow their lead
And go on strike right now from the boredom of life
Everyone everywhere
Just quit and sit along the Grand River in this sparkling city

But the lead guitarist
He drinks his beers as fast as the crowd
And the bass guitarist tilts her instrument
Vertical to her shoulder
A mother soothing her baby’s back
Swaying her hips in melodic circles

While the drummer and the piano player try to catch up
On beat

So we sing along
Implanting our hands in the dough of air.

Jimmy Page is here.
Sitting alone.
Dressed in black.
Sipping from a tall glass of orange juice.

It’s too hot for flies
So lightning bugs twinkle to the sticky bottoms
Of emptied beer pitchers
Flickering on the table tops
To the night’s finale of Whole Lotta Love
Mixed at the end with Baba O’Riley.

Who does that?

All night
A friendly man at the table next to me
A union bus driver
Who bragged he’d worked enough overtime all year
To take PTO for the entire summer

Flicks his hand against my shoulder
(The same shoulder that has Melanoma growing on it)
Every time the band strikes the first chords
To another rare Zep
With the same look of
Can you believe it?

Apparently, I must have the same look.


Stimulation: Let That Sink In

Eyes that can't see clearly,
Ears that can't hear keenly 
Shame embraced me, never leaving my presence 
I hated the moments you called me a boy that's dense...
It just doesn't make sense...
Hence, I think up on other notions...
Fenced in by my own ignorance 
Hoping to gulp down  solution-potions as soon as possible...don't be discouraged by the delighted demeanor of commotions (don't give up by the mere overload of fitting in, even if it means indulging in short-term satisfaction) 

Yeah...let that sink in...
I made a lot of these lines up through thick and thin
I'm not bragging...I'm just relieved to let it all out
At least everyone who reads this know what I'm about...(glad that readers know my character) 

Delete the history of sexual immortality that has been detected in my life, oh Lord Most High...
In other words, forgive me of my downfalls that took away my virginity of vitality
Truth hurts honestly...lies are fickle frankly - that, I can't deny or make up a white lie to try to cover it with a useless try 
My lightbulbs of ideas are dimming as night unfolds into a brand-new morning...yay, yet another night of insomniac, maniac pleasure beyond measure...

Sorry, I can't help...
B-b-but be stimulated
I whisper and yelp... 
From the inside, I am humiliated...jaded...hated...degraded by discouragement that has been anticipated (typical cycle of negativity that people with bipolar go through in some phases) 

There's a light in goodbye
There's a twinkle in your eyes
Rumor has it that you've become so shy
There are truths behind the lies 

Documents of deception have stimulated my utter humiliation (being misled by conspiracy theories has made me embarrassed) 
Abashed to say the least...
These words are just not beast...
Maybe I'm just assuming again as usual
I'm just in need of God's faith fuel

I pray that all suffering ceases from the ones that deserve it 
Because...not everyone will absorb this poem internally...they will take it as just-another **** fit

Sorry...I wrote and said so many bad words
I don't belong in the herd of good birds 
I feel misunderstood...
My nature and my outlooks in reality is not always of good

Travel Light

Flight of fancy reading by candlelight                                                                                                                                      light upon winds of sth enlightening                                                                                                                             moonlighting myth of mothlight                                                                                                                         lightbulbs there is all these dead moth wings                                                                                                                              giving them life again to animate them again                                                                                                                             to try to put them into some sort of life                                                                                                                       daylight dreams of Frankensteinish deadlights                                                                                                                      what delight is there backlighting dead things                                                                                                              macabre journey from light to darkness                                                                                                                                      How men look for true light in the wrong light                                                                                                                              Do not look to dead for the living                                                                                                                                                 when you leave this world travel light
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Q Tipping

I remember when
Q was part of a Tip
now Q is a one way trip
to crazy town
It’s a place where thoughts flip
and up is down
Where every imaginable 
conspiracy is found
Listen to that mind cracking sound
in a basement of a pizza shop
they think that trafficked 
children are bound

Democrats demonized 
Satan worshipers 
Drinking babies blood
Some welcome the insanity
in like a flood
Internet researches
named Beth, Karen,
Mike, Bubba, Bob and Bud
all of them happily 
wallowing in the mud

So wether they believe 
in the Deep State 
or PizzaGate
QAnon somehow thinks
an Old World Order
controls our fate
Slick videos crash minds
as feeble sheeple
bite into the bait
January 6th
becomes their new favourite date

Somehow
they feel truly Patriotic 
instead of Psychotic
Crazy takes off like gangbusters 
a fuse attached to a rocket 
It seems a certain President
had them in his pocket
A gun aimed at the Capitol
and Donny cocked it
They were all dim lightbulbs 
and he electrified the socket

So the Q tipped
as we watched on TV
what a crazy trip
“Hang Mike Pence”
dripped from their lips
Through broken windows
the mob slipped 
as the fabric of Democracy
was stained and ripped
Still with that darkness over the Country 
freedom was only temporarily eclipsed 

So while the world watched
and ridiculed 
“We The people” found a way
Thankfully the majority had the final say
Yes America witnessed a new day
QAnon, White Power, Proud Boys
and Anti Semites were kept at bay.
Should that not in the end
be “The American Way”?

Premium Member Oh Christ! The Train's a Comin'


       The rash upon my wrist
                       awaits the railroad track
                                      Nail
                             to penetrate my flesh
                                                 and
                                                       hang.

       The cabooseman rubs his white gloves together
                         waiting to pass the railroad
                                    Mail Station
                                 and catch the white bag
                                                          that
                                                                 hangs.

        And onward the Train travels through
                           the tunnel of Hell
                               and then up the railroad tracks
                                              to the Heavens where stars
                                                                                    hang
                                                                                         like lightbulbs.


Premium Member More is Less

How you feel is not enough,
You as this is less than function,
Avert the feel, replace with stuff,
Or suffer states, disjunction.

Comparing scrambled eggs to buzzing locust,
To the mumbled mind within you,
Hocus pocus, lack of locus,
There's too much to think or do.

Is it magic, the spectacle, the prance of flicked rays?
Distracting as you navigate your ways,
Through this nothing filled by gaze.

The TV sounds like lightbulbs burnt,
The filament ablaze; fidelity.
Tinnitus chimes, claiming weren't;
External cause for remedy.

I can feel the TV hum, the windows wake my earlobes,
Aghast by glass, the lampposts shook,
I'd rather nether regions probed.

I sense that I can't sense a thing,
Nothing lurks beneath my brain,
Haunting me to always bring,
The me who flees from fear and pain.

Poisons for potions, 
Pills provide motions,
A corpus of nervous commotions,
Despite that, these without,
I'm better about,
But me: I continue to doubt.
Form: Rhyme

Thank God

Give thanks to God for lightbulbs,
Give thanks to God for steel;
Give thanks to God for turkeylegs
And this Thanksgiving meal.

God gave us cars and videos,
God gave us hairdos, too;
Gave county fairs with rodeos,
Gave flags----red, white and blue.

God gave us evolution
And reason, grasping truth,
And then he gave us skin cream
To hold on to our youth.

God gave us songs and dances,
Light-hearted, cheering mirth,
And planet-ships' advances
While smiling back at earth.

God gave us pen and hero
To slant into the fight
And cross out cross of zero
And write up mankind's right.

God gave us love of living,
And sex that gratifies;
God said, "No more forgiving;
Let judging spirits rise."

God gave us gold and money
For work so bravely done.
"Buy jewels, now, for your Honey
To walk ablaze in sun."

Stand up, stand up in virtue;
Our God, be glorified.
O naked face self-nurtured,
O piercing eyes of pride!
Form: Rhyme

Absolute Power

Written By:  D. Collins 8/7/18

Absolute power is what Trump thinks he has.
Congress bowed-down and gave him a pass.
But, it is far from over.  It's just about to get hot.
He'll find that absolute power isn't what he's got.


I see impeachment down the road, and charges handed down.
Removing every avenue for you to pardon your son.
You want to be like Putin, but he's way, smarter than you.
He never runs his mouth like you and your son do.


Instead of making America great, you really shocked the world.
Brought down your son, son-in-law, and favorite little girl.
So, if absolute power is what you're trying to get.
It ain't gonna happen, I guarantee you, yeah.


We hoped that one of these days, the lightbulbs would light up.
But, that's not going to happen, because we're already sold out.
Just know that, "We The People" possess that absolute power.
And, loud-mouth New Yorkers have never made us cower.
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Eleven

O Father Of Mercy
Wash out this grief you shower
Over me and the land,

Ring out the spirit
And Saturday our love's weeks
Like light through locked twigs,

Beyond the puddled boy
Crying in vain for solace
Sung all about him

With worried weather,
Arise in your emptiness
Head-high like the sun.

Stars are for darkness.
May each night blanket blessings
Down Heart's corridor

And the floors of joy
Shift shapelessly through lives
Like mud on apples

In a woven dreamland,
Floating as God's single thought,
Making rich your harmony

As the cross flies off
And the Bible loads squirt guns
And "grace" replaces "debt"

Replaces tongue and
Speech in swirling compassion
Viewed from your own chair

You made from pictures
And lightbulbs and fake noses
And dusty open cheer

Up! The baby smiles
Your world of grief has shattered.
Light has pierced the dark.
Form: Haiku

The Cinnamon House

I am from the small white house
That has the small black pup as a defender
with picture on every wall
And the exploding smell of cinnamon
I am from the big family
Where education is everything
And Christmas morning are spent as a whole
I am from the tiny town
Where everyone knows everyone
Summer Nights were spent at the park
Taking little lightbulbs out the sky
With the streetlights as curfew.
I am from
The cold winter nights spent with Hot cocoa
Warming your soul and body from head to toe 
And Home Alone on repeat
I am from Ice cream after a performance
And family supporting family
I am from Denise
That raised me with morals and respect
In the small white house
With the black pup as a guard
And pictures on every way
-Malaki Fleming 2016
Please comment

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter
Hide Ad