Short Searchlight Poems

Between vanity
and task for leading
waits - lay wisdom...

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searchlight gives me chills
past the wall into town spills…
fear in my heart fills...

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Under the searchlight
The intruder surrounded
Blades standing Ready


By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX...

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Halloween night's moon

  silhouettes witches' hats, capes

    ~ searchlight for broomsticks  



        October 2, 2019
 Halloween Moon Poetry Contest
 Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke...

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And then, just before we reach
the summit of our low climb,
the sweeping searchlight of
the Eiffel Tower signals our
return in the bright night sky.

We're home.
Holiday's over.
Back to work....

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In its whisperings and articulations 
A searchlight into that hidden recess
The bane of acquisitions 
Becomes the flight from humility
On which freedom rests 
Shall we render benefaction of such
Crude and insidious notions........

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If only I could be, 
wiser,
to chaos,
before it catches wind,
& takes me with it's tides. 
As an aside... 
would you be so kind,
as to send out a searchlight,
for it appears I have delved, 
haphazardly,
into the deepest ends
of my turbid, little mind.
...

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She sits furlong
the race has been won
saddled on the mountain top
why equate the drilled
laying like searchlight beams

She waits for the birman
with wings on her mind
straight laced 
she race you for fun
Venus on the edge
shared shies
she unfathom you



...

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Listen to poem:

At daybreak,
the sea sheens, glints and gleams,
as sunbeam shafts blasts holes through clouds, 
to set the sea alight.

Cauldron pools so bright,
sparkle the sea with shimmering brilliance.

Searchlight sunbeams, panning the sea,
create a celestial celebration of dawn, 
at daybreak....

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*
                                                                         *
               *
from the empty night
we looked for what we had lost
searching among stars
groping for a chance to feel
tomorrow under our feet





______________________________
For Nathan's Short Poem Contest...

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The wall between us
Is topped with barbed comments
Your searchlight tries to spotlight
My failings and flaws.
In your black and white world
My grey seems vivid
 Compared to your bigotry
Your views without cause.

I've been in solitary
Screaming my name
In your ivory watch tower
You were immune to my pain.
Yet YOU are the prisoner
I have freedom to gain
You will rust and rot
In your toxic rain....

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Memory of Liberty

  Ballroom entanglements of crush induce dancers,
  Flouncing hem of skirt of my lady the Royal Queen,
  Wavy as ocean, swiveling and sweeping in spiraling
  concerto,
  The sea of floating headgears bobbing up at the simms,
  Footfalls on the parade paved hill tarmac of many
  destinies,
  Lives held in captivities in the jaws of colonial
  metropolitan,
  Imploding, searchlight to conquer the fun-fare frontiers,...

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A Lullaby
--------------------------
Do you hear the dogs barking?
Army! It's perhaps army in the village!
Silent! Silent! Switch off the lamp.
Wind up the games and switch of the phones.
Look through the curtains
Light is falling on the windowpanes --it's searchlight!
Do you hear the sound of boots 
And a whispering in the street?
I fear, if they knock at our window or door!

I am whispering to my wife at bedtime
And the irritating little fellow is sound asleep....

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Water flew,
it was above my head
waving or flapping
or did it row?

The boat
was a situation
adrift inside a cockleshell.

I recall the moon vividly
for it was not there.

Dreams fold inwards,
invert and leach
behind shuttered lids.

Searchlight-sight turns to floodlight,
the peripheral is everywhere.

Awareness rises to the top
rocking back and forth
heart-waves - tolling
like a sea tossed buoy,

Sometimes, mid-deep in flight
you find a paddle,
sometimes you don't....

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Arthur, last name withheld, was a Camusian soul and in his will
he asks to laugh at his death, and laugh
with no irony or remorse.
Ever wonder who created the plague and why?
A moment of discontinuity binding us to
our inner essence, the black hole sucking up all
meaning and loyalty, a
laughing stock of the world.
Happy to say happiness is an abstraction and
life is execution postponed. A writer searching for 
shipwreck of meaning is lost in his searchlight
bound for disappointment....

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