Best Cable Car Poems
My wife and I share a passion for travelling, the world we love to see
We travelled through France and Switzerland and we're now in Italy
Day one was a trip in a cable car to the summit of Mount Baldo
The views from the top were amazing of Lake Garda down below.
Day two we visited Verona, a city of great architectural beauty
And it's where Shakespeare was inspired by Juliets famous balcony
We saw great works of art showing statues, of Roman mythology
Churches now outnumber them after their conversion to Christianity.
Day three we went on a speed boat trip on the beautiful Lake Garda
Then had a walk around the town of Sirmoine, and ate some tasty pizza
Of course the day would not be complete without tasting some gelato
Every flavour you can think of, it's ice cream in case you didn't know.
On the fourth day we went to Venice and we were pleasantly surprised
St Marks Square, Rialto Bridge, Doges Palace and The Bridge of Sighs
Lots of narrow passageways that leads to many a little square
Words alone can't convey its appeal you really have to be there.
On the fifth and last day a scenic trip up the Dolomite mountains
We saw scenic alpine images and drove through villages with fountains
Swiss style chalets dotted the hillsides that added to its great charm
Scenes of utmost tranquillity that gives you a feeling of inner calm.
Day six and its time to head back home, and we travelled through the night
Through Switzerland then Calais in France, to catch the ferry at first light
Then just two more coaches that will take us nearer to our home
My wife is looking at brochures for next year, to see where else we can roam.
Written on 9th October 2022.
How many couples on honeymoon, read poetry aloud
or novels to each other?
Some do consider that a highly, loving, memorable treasure.
On a honeymoon, dare you say?
My unforgettable memory, that I would unflinchingly repeat,
just bring me back to that day!
Cable car bells ringing in the San Francisco night, oh
so softly heard.
The background to us, newlyweds, such sweet,tender,
young love birds.
Surrounded by the City's etereal gauze-like moist fog.
How I watched your eyes dance over the words.
Making my heart shine like glowing embers on a log!
I really was so complete with you.
More than any of the finest words can say!
Simply just we two, our love-ghosts still reading can be
heard, over forever our ~City by the Bay.
May 16, 2020
4pm PST
Poem # 1271
Military and civilian linguists and intelligence analysts, my colleagues and I were monitoring the Balkans troubles, supporting our troops in theater 'down range'. We were working the 'Mids' shift from 11 pm till 7 am at Bad Aibling Station--formerly a military intelligence site. I had read that we were in the western European zone that would experience a total eclipse of the sun that morning. One of the other Serbo-Croatian linguists had a car on post. I voiced the thought "wouldn't it be cool if we drove out to Mount Wendelstein and saw the eclipse from up there?!". He and another agreed. After shift we drove to the base of the mountain, and decided to hike the trail to the top rather than pay to ride the cable car up. Many Bavarians had the same idea, and it was somewhat crowded on the summit. When the eclipse was finally full, it was like standing on shadowy clouds surrounded by a large ring of light--eery, bizarre, and colder than anticipated both due to the elevation and darkness. Two minutes and twenty-six seconds of totality. I had goose bumps for several reasons, and could understand why primitive man would have been so terrified of the experience. Returning back to base, we learned that it had been overcast down there; so local people only saw it get dark, but missed the actual eclipse. However, three Sergeants had been in the right place at the right time, to see the first total eclipse in Europe in forty years, and last one of the twentieth century....August 11th, 1999.
The cable car proceeds, its old motif
on slender wire eyed by waiting queue -
So much it seems depends on thin belief -
We flew upon anonymous review.
Its window panes were dotted with the prints
that algid fingers left on hardened glass -
a fleeting mark of those who cared to call,
Then wiped away for tourists yet to pass.
The sight - ineffable to say the least.
So beautiful that if you were to fall,
You'd only wish you had more time to feast
on vision, catch the magic of it all.
On blue-green ice like paper they were grown -
A hundred shards of crystalline along
the clear blue water, glamour of its own
reflecting cattle herd it lay among.
And at the centre of this paradise,
No sight but this could make me look away.
She stood on mountain's edge with dazzled eyes
that showed no sign of labour everyday.
It's what you need that takes you far from home,
And till you find it, midst existence roam
There she belonged on top of the world - my mother
Standing apart, a star in the skies like no other.
Written Mother's Day
- Motif pronouced mo-teef
Fling the doors open
And let out the stagnant air
Open the board up windows
It’s time to breath fresh air.
Sweep out the dirty corners
And prepare for a powerful rejuvenation
Gather the dust in a bundle,
Empty it in the Pacific Ocean
Then dip four times in the Atlantic Ocean.
Take a stroll along the corridors
Look your enemies in their eyes and
Greet them with a victory smile
Salute them with your mystical love
And set ablaze their self-inflected flame
There is no doubt about this
You will go down as one of the bravest
Solomon the wisest you the greatest
And victorious one
Sound it on the mountain top
Across the rippling desserts
Walk through the market places
The inner-cities, burnt out villages
Busy streets and crowded towns
Visit the little old lady in the tattered house
Located on the deserted side of town
Shower her with hopeful words
Your presence alone will embrace
And nurture her weary soul
Make your way to the orphanage,
Wounded warriors
and the struggling ones
A simple touch with your powerful hands
Will answer the prayer of the weeping ones.
Go to the schools and colleges
With words of comfort and love
Stop over places where you are not welcome
And radiate them with persuasive sentiments.
All some people need is a can of beer,
a cup of hot chocolate or good cheers .
Disperse the spirit of hope,
Perseverance and good expectation
And when night comes
Walk in the streets and sing
Sing with timbrels and cheerful songs
You are an inspirational icon for everyone.
Your rhetoric’s are strong, use it to move along.
Use what works best for you
Negotiations or forgiveness
And climb straight to the mountain top
With a hammer, a sledge or a cable car
Ropes and boots or just the magical you
Silence the poisonous networks
Give them something to talk about
Lift up your injured wings and start to sing
Join with the throng of angels in the grand jubilee
You are strong and ready to fly again.
Tarry no longer because you have won
Raise your banner
And wave it high in the sky
You have just defeated your enemies
With compelling love
And your gigantic wings.
©2013 Christine Phillips
Mosques embellish the land in grandeur
Arts of its city including its Petronas Twin Tower at Kuala Lumpur
Langkawi flaps its wings beckoning its great wonder
Atop of mountains viewed the paradise by a cable car tour.
You and I will enjoy its beauty like fresh hibiscus flower
Smiles remain on lips of frequent visitors and travelers
I take pride of its warm accommodation each time of the year
And for verdant natures of Penang, I’ll give a toast, cheers!
Oct. 7, 2017 3.02pm
Note: Hibiscus flower is the national flower or symbol of Malaysia
A remembrance tour poem for myself:)
My 3 Free Trips to Malaysia
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia: Oct. 13-17, 2012 (Students’ Educational Camp)
Langkawi, Malaysia: March 12, 2013 (School Tour)
Penang, Malaysia: Oct. 1-6, 2017 (Students’ Educational Camp)
Some mother
Under a dark blue spring night sky
looks out her simple window,
past the old curtains which she’s had since the kids came along...
She’s washed all the little plates
And counted One, Two, Three girls: all home
Thank goodness!
But her boy,
where is he?
He isn’t answering his phone
Hasn’t been around much since he was fifteen
She’s worried. Poor boy.
Where is he?
Hey, mother!
Here is your son-
He’s up to no good again
Flipping the finger at white-collar job tired passengers who are going home by cable car
He’s talking loudly about smashing this and that and
and so and so
While you hope he’s on his way home.
I found a place of
divine intervention
The Land of Italy
The Towers of
Sorrento and Capri
So it is,
I fell in love
with this place
a country so full of grace
Italy with history of war,
volcanoes, earth and sea
People friendly, loving, caring...
Sorrento luring me into
it's piano bars and night life
fragrances of food
touching my hunger
Onto Assisi, historical buildings
and Churches meet
A quaint town lines
cobble stoned streets
Capri almost a country on it's own
an Island in the sea
A rock with a hole
the "Blue Grotto" it is called
at top a surface quite flat
they offer coconut drinks
and a cable car spat.
(c) Glen Harris 11/2/2000
I was on summer vacation
San Francisco was the destination
The warm breeze, spring in the air
All looked bright and fair
The crooked street
I so wanted to meet
And drive thru the China bazaar
Looking at exotic filled jars
The cable car was an instant hit
It was hard to get in and fit
The heather farm a heavenly abode
Where flowers grew all along the road
Napa valley took my heart
From the wines I didn’t want to part
But it was the awesome Golden Gate Bridge
And its green overlooking ridge
That was the star of the tour
Left me asking for more
A vacation forever in my mind
For the tender memories left behind
Jack London's home across the Bay,
Now crossing the Golden Gate.
Walking through Fisherman's Wharf,
Smelling the entrees as you pass restaurant doors.
While ships passing along the way,
Fishing boats pulling up to the dock.
Crabs are snapping at your heels,
Fishermen are unloading their catch-of-the-day.
Fresh sea air breeze from the shore,
Sunny days and foggy nights.
Smelling the kelp wash ashore,
Whispering sands upon the beach.
Watching seagulls wait and wait,
For crumbs on tourist trails,
While the sun sets in the west,
Atop the ocean's crest.
Strolling through Chinatown,
Collecting your thoughts.
Sounds of shuffling feet,
With people busily working on a feast.
Buildings taller than Redwoods trees,
Towering over the City by the Bay,
The Financial District, quiet and clean,
Just remnants of a day's work seen.
The smell of coffee grinding,
Chocolate melts,
Sour Dough bread baking,
Your senses are on fire with taste buds aching.
Driving down the most crooked street,
Turning left; turning right,
Turning left; turning right,
Winding to the bottom of this twisted hill.
Up the hill,
Down the hill.
Turning right in a wrong way,
And down a one-way street.
Buses honking.
Delivery trucks double-parked,
People yelling,
"Get out of my way!"
The cable car bell clangs loudly,
While the conductor yells, "All Aboard!"
Passengers scrimmage grabbing for seats,
Before the cable car clangs through the streets.
The city sparkles like the stars above,
With the fresh air and sunny days.
Visiting the City By The Bay,
It's San Francisco's beauty that's shone.
©2017 by Lee Christine Brownlee. All rights reserved.
A lovely country indeed is France
especially Menton down on the Med
everything makes you want to go back
such flowers, colors, and beauty all said
Also on the Med is the Riviera
a super little town called Agay
Its capital Paris is truly magical
so much to see either by night or day
My fav country is truly Switzerland
It's capital Geneva majestically true
staying by Vevay on the lakeside
highlight sailed on Lake Geneva so blue
Its reformation history is marked by its wall
the great reforming mark so grand
there stand Farel, Calvin, Beza, and Knox
men of godliness to righteous stand
We took the train up to the mountains
Jungfrau was the one so high a peak
reaching this beauty by cable car
all covered in white what a treat!
The longest trip was to South Africa
to travel along the beautiful garden route
visiting George, Knysna, and Mossel Bay
also to table mountain at Cape Town by day
I met her only once,
the lean, mean calypso queen;
not every singer-dancer,
has driven a cable car.
She gave me a firm, handshake,
as if she’d known me forever,
to my very soul
and her light embraced my spirit.
When she spoke,
I devoured her eloquence;
as if it were a,
platter of buttery cheesecake,
floating in, chocolate-raspberry syrup.
I could have listened for hours,
to what poured forth from her
reservoir of wisdom.
Experiencing this tall,
Renaissance phenomenon’s light;
I found new joy.
Some folks just exude, a
huge bubble of spirit-gold.
Hers was gleaned from fields of
life experience,
some desolate; some abundant
and her labors were, pure love.
As the pen channeled her light
onto the front page, of my copy,
that poet-angel of love and light
wished me well.
How I hoped that her light,
would welcome me again, another day,
for I had truly met,
A “Phenomenal Woman”.
Travelling along the road
on the South African highway
taking in the glorious sights
views that take your breath away
Here a Scot in an land
so very far from home
but a land full of history
in some ways like my own
This journey took mamy miles
to reach it's desired end
so following the route planner
it indeed became a friend
Going up Table Mountain
while in Cape Town
I got to the top
by cable car up and down
A great experience
An amazing journey
many memories
blessed is me!
poetgord
When I listen to Eminem I purr at his work,
it perks me up.
I'm then lured to write some words
and create a new verse,
that's rife without purpose.
No clichés are surplus,
and I've no nerves on the surface.
It's just an urge that occurs
wanting me to nurse to life a rhyme
as my digits tingle and fidget for playtime,
ready to mingle, in the meantime my brain feels no limit.
Set out in a stride that flows like the tide under bridges,
with a strive to blow minds and entangle sublime rhymes,
that I interwine between the lines leading in time
to a chorus that I hope to be glorious.
Set with the wind in my sails
and a drive that supplies the hammer and nails,
that wield together a motorised thought weapon,
with a complex that threatens,
to propel me like witchcraft
as I spell to fast
with the sails at full mast,
catching wind that's pushing this raft
and blasting through my mind as I draft
both good and daft rhymes.
Which seem easy and slide through peasy,
thanks to the greasy ease of a motion that doesn't freeze,
but travels at crazy speeds that please me.
It's not the work of a degree,
it just gives critics and plaudits a read
that they can witness
with it's dense intense thickness.
I don't care if it's rubbish
it's not written to be published.
I just like how my left hand smudges the ink,
as there's no time for it to dry as I rapidly think.
I just let it flow
and I know
like the tip of my nose
or the nails on my toes,
that it's simplistic
and explicit,
no need to be drastic
and complicate it.
I just like to glide like a cable car ride
because I'm able that's why.
I just like wordplay and syllables
that prevent the event of me feeling miserable.
It's just a cure that's what it's written for,
just a rhyme to read once and not once more.
Forty Christians from Southcourt Baptists,
Skiers,good,novice & the inactive;
On the flight from London-Heathrow,
Trusting Italy was full of snow.
Huddled in a coach past Trento,
Disembark in MSV's mountain shadow;
Crammed & cushed into th cable car,
Just in time for sckolade in the the bar.
Up early to claim skis & boots,
Dressed in salapettes & chic ski suits;
Wait in line for the revolving chairlift,
At the top,jumping off pretty swift.
Down & up the beginners' slope,
In a whiteout,with a prayer& hope;
Pasta for lunch,again & again,
But good to miss out of the English rain.
Learning the knack of forling fondue,
Joining the folk-dance,without a clue;
Saying danke to Karl the owner,
Back on the bus to airport,Verona.