Short Streetlamps Poems

 Streetlamps of highway
true viewers
Of unrehearsed life. 





form: Lune
syllables: 5/3/5...

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blue moon
standing
alone
in
a vacant parking lot
when
the
streetlamps
are buzzing like fireflies
on the 4th of July...

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Senryu 

As sun pales 
The old town looks haggard 
Till dawn 


Senryu 
Streetlamps sadly knows
They only play stand-in roles   
The sun is the star. 

Senryu 
When sun takes a break 
Crossly hides behind a cloud 
The day is murky...

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Dusk
Till dawn
As tawny
Night and moon wanes
Darkest dark; bats fly
Ghosts, ugly witches bliss.
Daunted and stark under lit
Streetlamps large black feline tail rise
On bittersweet brisk nocturnal stroll.
Prowling it yearns on spooky Halloween....

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Broken gates, leaning on broken walls
Broken streetlamps, they all fall
Walking down the broken road
Running away from the broken fold
Hiding in the broken Manor
Behind the broken Banner 
Broken Banner of a broken land 
It's symbol was the white hand...

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Unseeing Streetlamps 


Under the celestial awing
degrees of darkness
Stygian night or silky blue
Secret light seeps out of
manifold hurts
soon absorbed by night's hue 
By the quay, lovers watch the light
commit suicide 
in dark waters
Only the sleepless see this 
and prowlers with knives 
killing with passion...

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Winter winds do blow
bringing the bitter cold
snows piling up outside
quite beautiful to behold

A blustery winter mixture
rain then sleet and hail
icicles drip from the eaves
frost has covered the rail

Blizzard conditions explode 
streetlamps, they are aglow
all has turned bright white
everything’s covered in snow

written 1-4-2019...

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Mercy, Mercy… Mercy me

A light, white frosting
of snowflakes
Upon cardboard and 
old soiled blankets
Streetlamps and neon signs
Light…empty… unfeeling
and bone chillingly cold

Plastic bottles and wadded bags
Holey sneakers wrapped
In filthy rags
Tortured dreams and 
Muffled screams
And piercing, numbing cold

…Mercy, mercy, me…
...

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A summer evening 
in the asphalt homeland
     One more dance 
one more sigh 
    the park is growing dark now 
          The benches are 
       fille with the resplendent energy 
                  of youth 
 A grey haired man walks near the entrance 
      Cars pass by on the avenue 
     The streetlamps will
     soon start to glow 
     Some songs are yet to be sung...

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She rides low and ghostly 
close to the ground
giving the streetlamps
that dot the neighborhood
opaque ethereal halos

Where the skyline touches
her shrouded cover
she mystically wears
a peached-tinged glow
that’s pleasingly mellow

She obscures familiar
landmarks with her
misty morning dew
laying a damp blanket
on a Spring morning

She is the sunrise fog
and today I welcome
her beautiful unearthly
picturesque view.
Grateful eyes viewing...

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Deada in ashes fallin to lamar cold
Unsing it vanity in time concealed
Like leaveslight winglesssta
Listlessly lain where unburried we wither away

Lull inkfro fettered eternity
I call dull life what it is
Greycoated only dream
Hanging athwart the ending stream until sunset
Totell moreonce the story old

End under streetlamps invisible names in shame
Narrating oursins
Diligently like blackbirds cawing
Sweet nothingican understandin grant....

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Throughout my life
I have listened to the night
          as it spread
it's black wings around me
I have known the darkness
       and it still speaks 
to me when moonlight appears
     Walking the shadowed streets
I have heard the rhythms 
     of the asphalt homeland
Streetlamps cast a ghostly glow
   A pedestrian passes by
His footsteps echoing in 
    the cool autumn air
  These images will fade when
the garish sun appears
    But for now........

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Empty city 
streets at 3 A.M. 
    A lone youth walks
towards her home 
    She staggers a 
bit having drunk 
  a little too much
There is no one with her 
and when she lights 
  up a cigarette
a shadow 
appears briefly 
   on the sidewalk 
It doesn't seem 
that she will have trouble 
  Fortunately the streets 
are deserted 
   Walking slowly home
She coughs from the cigarette 
    smoke 
And finds her way home 
    under the shining streetlamps...

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A pool of water
     left behind by the rain
reflects the light from the
         streetlamps
the thin veil which 
        shielded us
from unreality 
  is torn apart
For the moment 
  we'll view the water
          near our fragile home
Dancers on thin ice
we'll glide for a while
        before the freeze
sets in
        This pool is too
shallow to swim in
   as we watch the
reflected light
    we begin a journet 
to the new
    and as yet unseen...

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