Electric Lights Poem by Lynette Lawrence

Electric Lights



Lights nowadays
so many ones
so bright
dusty electric shimmer
and lackluster shine
A blackout would cause darkness and silence
It feels like electricity keeps us alive
what happened to my former I
remember how the moon shined once upon the time.
The glowworm glows from it's heart
The floodlights will fade
but I know that fire stays.

©

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
This is a 'Kingdom's lights' poem.'Kingdom's lights' is a project I'm currently working on, my work includes poems, short stories (in German) , some photography and other artistic work. The 'Kingdom's lights' are very personal and autobiographical, they play in the beginning of the 19th century, this one is an exception. The stories and poems are based on one of my diaries and on family history, these thing aren't really connected but each of them means a lot to me. That's why I use many metaphors you can't detect as such.
What this poem means to you is up to you.

My idea was a world of floodlights, cold lights, they shine because electricity (the others) forces/force them to. Each floodlight wants to shine brighter than it's neighbor so they live in a kind of constant war. Then there are the glowworms, they were born as such they 'just' glow, but they do because they want to, not because of anyone else. The glowworm I'm talking about here is a person, I followed this person blind in a very long 'blackout-night'. I guess this person doesn't even guess that (s) he was my glowworm. The fire I'm talking about was caused by the glowworm it sometimes blazes up even though it was blown out almost a year ago.

This poem isn't about the role electricity plays nowadays, it's about how usual lights or sources of light got.
The moon is one of the original sources of light, just like stars and sun.

The former I, is what 'Kingdom's lights' is about, I'd like to tell you more about it but I'm not allowed to, but I named Her Mia Alexia Elisa or Mae.

This is a poem about feelings I never talked about so far but the metaphors 'hide' everything.

Somehow a ce13 poem.
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