Short Flashlights Poems

Too potent to hold
When real you can tell it is
Boundless energy
Like a radiant sun's light
The rest are just mere flashlights...

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Flying in twilight like
fairies bearing tiny
flashlights which constantly
flicker on and off, this
family of bugs are
factually beetles -
fascinating to me!...

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Nights like this are made for us
Crescent moon smiles down; 
broadly
We walk along the river
Coke and a picnic basket
With two flashlights we begin
Gin rummy, we play all night...

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Memories
of childhood sleepovers;
silly games,
Mom calling, “Lights out!”
flashlights shinning under covers,
then on walls.

Whispers,
“Can you make this shape?”
Impermanent shadows
cohering friendship,
building pleasant
memories....

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we forget that were
more comfortable pretending 
we cant see in the dark
sometimes we bring our flashlights
but we always know exactly where to shine them first
so i advert my eyes as
my hostage pretends to be surprised
i should just be myself...

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Left then right into a corn maze 
as the Sun flickers on October;
Laughter transforms to screaming 
as we spot a scarecrow, 
a pipe smoking but it’s not lit;
‘Trick me, treat me.’ he says 
‘By all means creep me.
Welcome, this field is not as it seems.
Flashlights on or the spirits will see.
Blessed Be, Blessed Samhain’....

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Let’s go back to that.

Telling stories,
teaching each other
how to play a guitar,
showing tricks
and playing games.

Sleepovers,
makeovers,
dancing and baking.
Building forts,
picking flowers.

Having power outages 
and bringing out candles.
Using flashlights just for fun.

Let's go back to that.
To taking time.
...

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Gift

Lengthy wires
Wind around the feet
Of those who will not see
And the muffled voices
Of the friends
Pound at those who refuse to listen
The flashlights are omni-bright
Fluorescent to those who shut their eyes
Or will not speak, the microphone
Who shall not touch, the silks, the wools
And to those who will not pay
After today
Are given tomorrows....

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neighborhood children
laughing play hide-and-go-seek—
he steals his first kiss

a teenaged couple
smooching beneath the bleachers—
flashlights and sirens 

a husband and wife
smiling on Valentine’s Day—
a pink negligee

© January 27, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Romantic Senryu Contest 	
Sponsored by: Francine Roberts...

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The screech of claws scratching against my window,
The flickering beams of flashlights reflect into my haunted eyes,
The shivers creep down my spine with feeling of endless fear,
The sound of footsteps in darkness; so cold at night,
The hours become continuous as I begin to panic,
The eery surroundings find its target,
The blood poors heavily as I watch suffering pain,
The stains of deaths medallion forever lays;
 upon the victims pillow....

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Batten down the hatches – 
A storm is on its way.
Don’t know when it’s comin’
Or how long it’s gonna stay.

Every market’s crowded – 
People gathering supplies.
No one wants to be caught short
Or taken by surprise.

Plans are being canceled,
Dates all rearranged – 
Phones and laptops busy as
New info is exchanged.

We’re ready for the tempest – 
We’ve got flashlights, candles, matches.
I’m prepared to do some battening,
But what the hell are hatches?...

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The hunter is inside
between the lens and its mirror
where Zen masters prowl
with high powered flashlights.
The prey is sensed
before it takes shape,
otherwise you catch nothing.
You are in the zone,
mind locked on a digital trigger.
Sometimes
the whole world stampedes
across your path,
more often,
a small curlicue of significance
will trip a sensory wire,
cross-hairs will meet,
then for an instant you disappear
as you take the shot....

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Drivel
dribbled from those lips of ours
while climbing streets and chasing cars
peeling back our velum skin
removing duty, tasks again.

Drivel 
trickled from our sanguine lips
reddened by a vibrant sun
infinite, treasured, playful trips
of youth perfected, minds begun.

Drivel 
fueled creativity in our veins
more effective than any lecture
more durable than the double AAs
powering flashlights at bedtime.

Drivel
was never 
just 
Drivel....

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Stars ring out;
the night sky sings tonight.
The land listens like a wolf,
I listen like a wolf.

Maybe it's just he crisp air
making my ears ring,
maybe the stars are as mute as usual.
Maybe the land is just land?

Yet why do my eyes gleam so bright
they seem like celestial flashlights
piercing the heavens?
How come my ears prick up
as if I were a wolf,

And why (most strange of all),
is my heart howling
but quietly,
howling ever so quietly....

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Hidden flashlights 
And hushed voices 
Open windows
Scared of small noises 

Sitting on rooftops
Not to leave but to stay 
Grounding myself
So my mind isn’t in the way

My body shaking 
Ridden with cold
Refusing to go in
The feeling never gets old 

Finally returning 
To a warm waiting place
It seems so different 
From my cold safe space 

Huddled under blankets
Hidden in extreme measures
But they can never take away 
My small simple pleasures...

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Girls grow up wearing dresses and bows,
playing house with dishes and dolls,
soon into lovely flowers they grow,
sharing weekends at the local malls,

Little boys grow up playing with cars,
trucks, trains, flashlights and radios,
gazing  telescopically at planets and stars,
spending  weekends at the picture shows,

All children today share the future to be,
fostering the knowledge they primarily learn,
thus to uphold tomorrows true destiny,
what's taught should be of Godly concern....

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