"strobes" poems
*erstwhile a halcyon extant universe incessantly ceaseless
cradled itself in hues of violet phosphorescence
laced with cobalt shimmering stars
perpetually whole it nonetheless
sought to know itself
encompassing all that is bubbling over in effervescent ebullience
intertwined with indescribable catastrophic splendor
it shattered into tens of millions of splinters
of eloquent efflorescent light
shining in the night
each splinter heretofore imbued with sempiternal felicity
began to conjure sumptuous dulcet elixirs
furtively seeking out savory emollients
to mollify the pique of separation
plummeting they fell
into monstrous competition seeking demesne they lost the purpose
of gaining awareness and intelligent consciousness
surreptitious estrangement overflowed
deluging them in excruciating agony
thus an epiphany was born
the carving of the beleaguered fragments inked with tremendous pain
created a transfiguration of splinters to crystals
hence enlightenment commenced as the gems
magnetized together constructing a world
where omnipotence shines
the ineffable beauty formed by the reintegration of crystals
far exceeds the original as they dazzle with universal light
bursting from diamonds etched in deep wisdom
flooding the firmament with kaleidoscopic
rainbow strobes cascading the sky
©2016janetaylor
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 1:23 PM UTC
Strobes of light bounce around you
And the forces keep pulling me in.
Im out of my depth in this moment,
But the forces keep pulling me in.
The mystery compels me forward
And the shadow keeps me away.
Out of the darkness you appeared
To take me to solace once more.
Passion seeps from your words,
And the forces keep pulling me in.
Im scared to let myself go,
But the forces keep pulling me in.
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 10:54 AM UTC
Dizzy, twirling, spinning
Holding your partner closely.
Loud music.
Booming, pounding, rumbling,
Vibrating beneath your feet.
Your friends all gather,
Laughing, giggling, talking,
Having a great time.
Lights disco ***** strobes, everything you could imagine.
Glitter, confetti, sparkles.
Dizzy, twirling, spinning
Faster and faster.
Screaming, shouting, crying,
Coughing, choking, crackling,
Can’t breathe! Smoke fills the air, flames arise,
Beamers falling.
Their worst nightmare!
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 9:11 AM UTC
A veil, placed upon your eyes, somewhere behind them, a deep hidden mystery, lies just beyond those lights. A gentle look, glassy eyed, this night, this night is flying by. Sweat, liquor, regret; this place reeks of years and years of bitter tries. The lies you tell, masked with red. A shade of black, changes to dread. Deep inside your heart, you always carry it within.
Laughter, pain, I can see it on everyone's faces. Beautiful, everybody in here, glistening, glowing, covering up what's really surfacing. Just let it out, until your ankles bleed. You can feel the music, running through your veins. Euphoria, it kicks in. She's hiding, over there in that corner, waiting to let you in. All these cold dead hearts, none of which beat the same. But we're all sitting here, standing here, coincidentally all on the same page. We came here looking, searching for something to fit, to fill that empty place called emptiness. We hope and hope, heels clicking on the cobblestone. Laughter, music, it fills the air. But there's something, something missing here. There auras, there energy, bleeding colors, wash away onto pavement. And we don't know why, we don't know why we're all still here, dancing, laughing, waiting to disappear...blend in with the strobes, the flashes, and grins.
He's waiting right over there, waiting to let you in. Her eyes covered, hidden, and you can't see the want, the look, the pain she's in. Fifty shades of him, of her, of I. When will this end? Dawn's just around the corner, and no one's left but him. Sitting, wondering, thinking, he can still win. In one mere movement, you'd uncover her whims. Everything, everything she wants to bury, resurfaces again. Her eyes; they leak with hurt, with lust, with want, but you can't see it. Remove them, just take them off and you will see. Everything you ever wanted, is hiding right here, deep inside of me. Off to the left, under the breast, is where you'll find me. You've been holding the key all night, won't you just unlock me? Sunglasses, it's no wonder there so expensive, but these, these were free.
© 2013 Christina Jackson
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
in our
besieged republic
snipers are
popping up
everywhere
taking ***
shots
ending lives
with a well placed
head shot
active shooters
star in
world premier
events
jokers
rise like
dark knights
casting large
looming shadows
on real 3D cinemax
multiplexed screens
sprinkling overpriced
buckets of popcorn
with generous
dollops of blood
others
head back to
school
still ******
about missing
recess and
excessive
sentences
to detention
halls where
bullies tortured
scrawny inmates
with wedgies
and painful
***** twisters
they’ve
come back
to even the score
leaving
bullet hole
pockmarks on
Sharpie smudged
smart boards
declaring endless
summer vacations
for classrooms
of children
who don’t
give wedgies
and only dream
of soft *****
these
urban guerillas
are now working
to liberate airports
from the tyranny
of TSA agents
fulfilling
PATRIOT ACT
duties for
10 bucks
an hour
and
last night
the latest
active shooter
showed up at
the Garden
State Plaza,
-my hometown
mall of america-
mumbling about his
Grand Theft Auto
score, strung out
and crashing
from an unfilled
pharma addiction
script
he grew
up as a
Highwayman
in Teaneck
a former
classmate
working
at Nordstroms
said he was
a really good kid
he was,
one of the good ones,
he could have shot
some people
but the only
person he
shot in the head
was himself
legions of
police officers
surrounding the mall
stood down
grateful for overtime
milling about
in the flashing
red strobes
inhaling the heady
blue fumes
rising to commend
Bergen County
Blue Laws and
next Sunday’s
time and a half
active shooter
training day
Jimi Hendrix:
Machine Gun
Oakland
11/5/13
jbm
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 1:12 PM UTC
Pounding bass.
Sub-sonic strobes.
Synthetic smoke.
Alone on the dance-floor
I was glad to see another
clubbers curves move in rhythm;
Uninhibited by the foot tapping brigade
who watched with intensity.
You edged ever closer
Till our smiles became infectious.
An uncertain bond of understanding,
amid an endless rush of acidic bleeps.
Uncluttered.
Uncrowded.
Mystically shrouded in transient beats,
we strangers come together in unity
Your hips move to the pneumatic bass
as transient hardhouse and
tribal breakbeats embrace,
The foot tappers again resume,
Spontaneous rushes
and some sulphur that is sour to taste.
We may have unzipped and consumed
to electronic tunes,
but the tune remains the same -
Beautiful stranger dream a dream for me
because now all we have between us is
Rain.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:09 AM UTC
If you listen with thoughts undefined
the rain will begin to play a rhythm
a soft elegy for all we have forgot
I once spent a day listening to the past
and was rewarded with a glimpse of the future
bright strobes of energy etched in the fabric touched by the vast the mind
faltered
desire set in
and the soul searched for more
I touched the universe
and
burned
mind and soul
fought and argued
and went their separate ways
now we wander
broke and destined
time is consuming us
most is now scattered like dust
but then
we'll hear a whisper in the rain and
I'll remember what it means to be Whole
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC
If aliens were real
and came down from outer-space
picking me up at sunset
from my car, or place
I'd try to be so polite
and chauffeur them the globe
while stressing emphatically
ain't gonna be an **** probe
We could go to diner
go dancing, under strobes
let me stress right now there Yoda
ain't gonna be an **** probe
They may argue all they want
but they're still just xenophobes
and unless they all look, just like Taylor Swift
ain't gonna be an **** probe
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 7:55 AM UTC
Night filled glittering skies
Cloud bright trimmed in lines
Sloe-eyed music pops and fades
Drones straight edged across the lies
Drugged up players in a lit up world
Smooth cries fill the ears of hardhearted rituals
Flashbulb strobes beat the pace
Fist raised groups of hazed out praise
Rushed up feints in the days of the lost
Last light shines as sloe-eyed music pops and fades
cc2011
Jun 25, 2011
Jun 25, 2011 at 8:53 PM UTC
The message is simple, the delivery hard,
even as his eyes cut holes for it to enter.
White rims that flash, like beasts that spar
Natural strobes flicker, to thicken the black center.
When intent is replied with padded knuckle intent
Ungraceful, his neck turns past comforts vector.
I turn away to close a window from the storm.
Thought pathways like drunken footprints stepped
but a spark in the cloud of numbness replies.
My clenched thumb releases his bicep
And the arthritic cogs inside us violently un-subside.
Those muscle strings in my handwriting
to the letter the red bull replies,
but rain breaks my gaze to the window.
Knuckles like bruised alps in formation;
the boy’s got blood lightning in his eyes,
And so have I. ***** in the sockets I’m pushing on,
to revel in colors of my ****** mind’s sky.
I hurt myself to try telling that one ****** idea.
Tasting the punch, spitting iron, my Boxer I despise.
The classic writer’s hand ache makes me relinquish my pen.
Those axons, which lead to nothing,
they have now reached it.
Flayed to the winds.
The eye’s blinds closed completely.
In darkness, rasping breath resounding
and the lungs like strained gluttons for life
are clearly mocking the hearts desperate beating.
I put the pen horizontal to the desk.
It possesses all the use of a dead man’s organs.
But the sway, rains sweat from hair down to skin,
Then to polish the padded domes of pain.
When flesh rolls like thunder, bones crack like lightning.
His legs, my pen and both our minds are jarred from this refrain.
And upon the strike,
I’ll polish words and pad their meaning,
Punch the reader,
And enjoy the force that they contain.
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 7:18 PM UTC
The room is bouncin
Wall to wall base so fat you can walk on it BLIP BLEEEP :-).
Chant and grind on syntho growl. Strobes hittin all the corners...locked on the groove bouncy move.
Mechanical funk....Double dutchin.
Hollan-daze orange crushin the room. Afro pulse Housin you down..Blip Bleep.
Two hours straight epical trance.....Old disco gone techno high. Strobed out on that techno Applejack meet Afrojack.
New trance city.
Luda an fitty
Ear hustlin this one
NuUrban stepchild drivin the beat...Blip Blip Bleeeep.
Hop til ya drop ta Tiesto
Super techno out your mind
More bounce to the ounce.
Got GaGa goin gaga
Dont stop.
Dont quit.
Blip Bleep.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 7:25 AM UTC
.
night streets and scars of light
scarves of light
moving subtle bustles of shadowed light
carvings of royal light robes of velvet light
make out expressionist doorways
strobes of light fink and fit in protest
coding behind enemy lines
captured light fires colourful snakes about
in flaring curved science tubes
flagging the bartering night flogging the
urban night
we've made apparition in honour of daylight
and out of the theatre fear
of our own bogged nature
synthetic ghosts of light
charge away ghosts
electronic noises scare away
the horrifying lull of the dead
(a dead we don't believe in)
twenty four seven behaviour
to busy away the very spirits we have hungered
and to plot against
all that unnecessary sleep business
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 9:53 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Strobes,
All in gold,
So the whole room is ***
So many couples,
Just look at the chemistry,
DJs played songs that you'll never even think of,
So when you feel a little tipsy,
Then just stand right next to me,
Not the one that usually sins,
Then wins,
After a few counter parts,
Are up and missin',
From the lights that are beamin',
Down on us,
I figured you would wanna smile on us,
Appreciate the good in life,
And maybe frown on us,
But your sadness is obsolete,
Even if you tried,
You can't compete,
With how crazy this rave is,
I fell asleep,
On the pave,
I hope someone will save,
The rest for me,
So welcome to the rave.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 2:31 AM UTC
I enjoy driving slowly
Up Kathleen Avenue,
It brings out my
Split personality.
The sun strobes
Through pre-leaf spring;
I remember a boy
Twirling on the dance floor lawn,
Then called to the back,
To the used nail pile.
There's gratitude for the rain,
Splash in gutters;
The weeds will grow.
The spades, like naked stick-children,
Are heeled into mounds,
Beneath the dripping clothesline,
Far from his playful sounds.
I am me,
I was you:
My cryogenic memory
Thaws to resolve
We two.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC
I long for
the sanctuary of sleep,
my palm, relaxed,
upon your heart
head nestled
into the crook
of your kindness,
slow strokes of tender
shelter from
the storms within
thunder quelled into gentle
as the stars fill my bones
leading me into
forests of sweet, dark
replenishment
scent of pine
and loamy moss
over my body,
forming a green –quilted
blanket of tiny-budded love
my fingers planted deep
into the cooling soil,
sprouts unfurling
crickets in night chant
fireflies a-whirl
and the bond
in our
veins, delicate fronds
intertwined yet
giving space
to breathe,
simply breathing
lungs expanding
in the cracked
wood tranquil
of mountain air
hushed rush
For now,
through panes of glass
the moon
casts a watchful eye
caressing my
sadness with
her woven strobes
of
light
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 4:06 PM UTC
Strobes
yellow, pink and blue
bounce and change
with a relentless rhythm
probing faces bathed in gold
arms waving
wailing, accelerating
adrenalin pumping
surreal orange skin
shining eyes, hypnotised.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC
The tea cup clouds were reason enough.
Reeling, the clock hands spun on an axis wobble
noon flirted with night
and I broke into a run
as the sky opened its maw
and screamed.
Even the suits scramble for burrows.
Retrospection always has a punchline.
Hide away, slide away
Stop looking at my ******* please.
Now watch wide-eyed behind
public glass, with a
sitcom gang of affable protagonists
who are now late for their respective chapters
Staring at their phones, willing the weather
forecast to telepathically change.
The light strobes, the bricks quiver sympathetically
and I riddle a fourteen year old pantheon
as they sway, as they jaunt
ankle deep in charged water
daring each other and daring the sky
daring the noise with headphones still around necks
like defiant plastic boas
Clothes plastered, mouths open, rain-drunk
feeling **** revealing secret intimate shapes,
feeling sheepishly exposed next
to crushes who will kiss them at the next movie.
I am aware of each nerve as I drip and shiver
I'm terrified of storms, my reasons are mine
but even this fear
can cat-stroke my skin
hyper-sensitized, electric
and make me feel
**** too.
Jul 31, 2012
Jul 31, 2012 at 3:58 PM UTC
Bright Seraphim in glorious light
Existing for God's praise
You circle Him in endless flight
You dip and soar with grace
Six wing's angels, silver robed
You fly above His throne
His brilliant glory shines and strobes
You lift your voice as one
Holy Holy Holy
Holy is the Lamb
He, the One unchanging
The faithful Son of Man
O, Seraphim, lovely as gems
Yet can't behold the beams
Of the light that brings renewal
And causes you to sing
You cover up your glowing eyes
With crystal feathers bright
For God's glory undisguised
Would blind you with it's might
Yet through your feathers you still see
Our Lord's spectrum's glow
Until in heaven he shall be
These hues no man can know
(chorus)
Faces in ecstatic pose
You sing in beauty found
Only in this glorious host
So lifted from the ground
O, Seraphim, bright jewels of God
You are a mighty throng
Lord Jehovah you will laud
And raise His praise with song
(chorus)
SoulSurvivor
(C) 1/28/2016
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 12:48 AM UTC
Dim
The bulb wobbles in the mind
on a cobweb cord
shadows thrown uncertain
drifting silent up the walls of tissue
across the dirt floors of thought
Dim
the bulb wobbles in the mind
on a cobweb cord
escapeing reality by flickers
truth between the strobes
nothing can be closer
nothing more internal
Dim
the bulb wobbles in the mind
on a cobweb cord
sincerity races ancient muse
stricking transparent walls
dismembered thoughts roll uncontrollably
uncertainty trickles from the ****
Dim
the bulb wobbles in the mind
on a cobweb cord
to recognize is the power
to remain the eternal
to identify the
Dim
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 2:14 PM UTC
I watch the harbor through the falling snow
the sky and sea form one vast, gray tableau
the sun is nothing but a weak, background glow
the scene draws me, as if hypnotically.
Five mile’s lighthouse warnings go unvoiced
its strobes not lashing out, so what’s its point
it stands majestically but disappoints
replaced electronically
A tiny lobster boat makes its landward way
towards the inlet from the wider channel bay
a powdery blizzard is underway
which melts into the mirror sea.
Ospreys still hunt round the lobsterman's pride
snowflakes stain them as they soar and glide
other seabirds huddle side by side
shivering and crowing lividly.
Through the narrows the lonely boat steams
past icy Luddington Rock and East Breakwater's breech
its berths and moorings, within minutes reach
and sadly, it’s time for me to leave.
.
.
Songs for this:
Far Far Away (Charles Tone Mix) [feat. Brenda Boykin] by Tape Five
Nobody by Mitski
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 1:42 PM UTC
In a scribble
grammar-sphere
Covid-spastic-wormholes
from a new world intelligence.
Come on dudes this is a personal invite
who-ever own the guru-rules out there
come clear make contact
let's boogie on Bach
eat together with Spock,
vegans are welcome too
no disecting
no probes
no props
only sunlight strobes
just the few of us
a humpback tv
Danny Glover, Aeon flux
and Spielberg,
indulged in mars bars and smoked-yeast,
if the kitchen heats up I'll offer you
oil Sheik in galaxian crude dip with
elongated Musk on fire and ice.
May 16, 2023
May 16, 2023 at 2:15 PM UTC
The streets outside my window are deep black,
Slick with silver rain,
Illuminated completely, every so often, by a sudden violent flash.
And I think in flashes like that
At this late hour.
I think in strobes
Of your face.
I don't know why I wonder what you're doing.
I don't know why I wonder
How your skin would look
Lit by a sheen of rainwater
In those flares of white lightning.
What shadows would deepen your collarbones
And how your eyes would look,
Half lit with their part mischievous, part vulnerable glint.
I don't know why I keep stumbling into the thought of you
As I travel my mind in the dead of night.
I wonder if her lips are soft.
And I shake myself,
Think it would surely be wrong to find out.
You and I are so oddly close
So suddenly
And I could lose that.
And here there is not much else I have
To lose.
And yet
I think in flashes tonight.
A glimpse of skin in my mind,
Skin and words and rain ssssliding down the windowpane.
A burst of feeling that I blush my way out of
In the dark
And try to turn platonic.
In these past days, I've tried to bend my heart's gaze away
But I keep stealing little glances,
Truth be told.
I am curious. I am fascinated. I am drawn.
And it is late, and I am uncertain,
And outside the rain comes down with wanton savagery,
Total abandon,
And something in me leaps at the sound
And calls for me to answer it.
Something inside me surges like lightning,
A white hot bolt singing through my bones
Making them ache sweetly,
And I want to come down, as well.
With total abandon.
Just fall.
I try to shut it off,
But only casually, only halfheartedly.
In the deepest part of me,
I rejoice that I barely know you,
For there is so much to discover, so much to see.
In the private room of my mind,
I am shamelessly captivated.
Who are you?
What are you?
I want to know. I want to know everything.
I want to read your soul.
Rain your words down on me like a sudden storm,
I want them all.
I want them worked into my skin, slow.
What am I saying? Who are you?
Who knows:
Who are you
So immense
So enigmatic
That I must think of you only in parts,
In little glimpses?
That I fear the way I
Must
Think of you?
Who are you
That I am stirred and uneasy
That my thoughts arc toward you as if pulled by gravity?
Who are you
That I am so caught
And so unprepared?
You see...
I so rarely meet anybody
I want to feel with.
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC
Feeling high on these trippy waves
could have guessed your bugging
eyes wouldn't stay the same.
dancing on the nerve endings,
the frequency shows itself,
strobes in and out phase.
In and out of phase,
feeling high on these trippy waves
be brave tonight,
and in your case,
be lighter than the page
your heart was written on.
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC