Best Chariot Poems
CHARIOT OF FIRE
I stand in silence and behold the sight,
staring in wonder, waiting for thunder.
A chariot of fire travels through the night.
The white-winged horses gallop in full flight
pulling at the reins; flowing are their manes
I stand in silence and behold the sight.
Where are they going? There’s a shining light
leading all the way, so they will not stray.
A chariot of fire travels through the night
amidst the heaven where in pure delight
resides the Master, the sweetest lover,
I stand in silence and behold the sight;
Blessings whisked to amble slowly with plight;
heartbeats race to sway, courage on display.
A chariot of fire travels through the night
armoured by God’s spirit. They ride like knights
fearless from pain; victory, their peak gain.
I stand in silence and behold the sight;
a chariot of fire travels through the night.
©O.E.Guillermo and P.Callus
Written last 5:07 pm, November 17, 2014
I stand in silence and behold the sight,
staring in wonder, waiting for thunder.
A chariot of fire travels through the night.
The white-winged horses gallop in full flight
pulling at the reins; flowing are their manes.
I stand in silence and behold the sight.
Where are they going? There’s a shining light
leading all the way, so they will not stray.
A chariot of fire travels through the night
amidst the heaven where in pure delight
resides the Master, the sweetest lover.
I stand in silence and behold the sight.
Blessings whisked to amble slowly with plight;
heartbeats race to sway, courage on display.
A chariot of fire travels through the night.
Armoured by God’s spirit they ride like knights
fearless from pain; victory, their peak gain.
I stand in silence and behold the sight.
A chariot of fire travels through the night.
--------------------------------------------------------
Collaboration: Paul Callus & Olive Eloisa Guillermo
November 2014
They call them crops, but they might as well be weeds.
Mr. Eli Whitney found a great way to get rid of those seeds.
Now the supply outstrips the demands and the needs.
All that makes this stuff cheaper by the bale.
Sellers get less money when they make a sale.
None of that makes any difference at all.
I am stuck picking in this field all summer until fall.
Lord, send your winged chariot down to me right away.
I am ready, willing, and able to meet my dying day.
Inspired by Tim Ryerson’s poem “Cotton Pickin’ Paradise”
"Sweet Chariot"
Swing low
sweet chariot
where it hurts
most, we smile
through the pain,
violins always
swept me away
saving pianos
for buriel daze,
keys, each a note,
to be played
demons come
and they go
burned at the stake
the collaboration
when it flows
off page, is what it is
never a clean escape;
LOVE,
always flies in
to save the day
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.
I'm sometimes up
and sometimes down,
Coming for to carry me home.
From a swift wind may she return this night,
may the moon delight the path less traveled
and make mighty her heals;
for this tiny flower wan in her meadow,
where lightning rips the skeletal gloom,
(where she knows not which way to heaven) ---
but the Star which shines above forgotten tombs....
How I miss her warmth....
while the night pours melancholy
and the sky thunders forbidden secrets.....
For many a moon shall pass til I have her home;
where it is now all but empty.....
and the clock ticks not for time,
but a cruel, long wait, and ill tidings grin....
Have me faith while the devil licks his lips,
and throws sharp stones,
from a desolate deep dark;
She is mighty with me and I with She,
no death could give us part ---
no gate from hell to keep us apart;
with the strong arms of the Lord,
(her swift chariot I await)
*** A prayer and a plea that my girlfriend has a
swift recovery in the hospital***
Last night, i dared revisit the crossing
of time with my brother, hovering on a
distant sky , tracing notes of my dripping rhymes.
We grew like chariot riders; he, the Troy of
streets and I, the maiden of lofty speeches.
While his hands reveled at the wonder of seaweeds,
I reviewed the fury of ancient mythology---
he laughs again at the strangeness of my ivory
tower ; and above easels of clouds, he smiles
knowing only he could comprehend my weird
attachment to words, art, and tempest.
Ten years ago, he ascended somewhere
in the glow of light, shutting me from all
moments uninhabited… unleashed.
A blank paper shouts at my hesitating
litany as if it were aware how siblings
climb inside, touch the veins of bloodline…
yet, it can not. Like a pageless odyssey,
I close my seaweed eyes unable to continue
recounting that June day,
when Benjo slipped into chariot’s final ride
without nothing else to say.
©
*in sweet memory of my brother who
relished my uniqueness as a person
and inspired me to pursue my passion.
Carol Eastman's Unsung Hero Contest
And did those wings in ancient time
Soar upward in the sun burnt sky:
And was the father of our dreams
Seen boldly taking us on high!
And did the clever man of arts
Shed light upon our lofty bent?
And was a seed implanted in
That Cretan's dark imprisonment?
Bring me my wings of fair design;
Bring me the power of desire!
Bring me my aerobatic lines;
Bring me the chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental flight,
Nor shall my sequence sleep in hand,
Till I have reached the sun kissed heights
In hallowed halls o’er sea and land.
- The word "sequence" refers to a series of precision aerobatic figures studied in advance and flown by an IAC pilot. (IAC is the International Aerobatic Club)
-Inspired by William Blake's poem, Jerusalem, "And did those feet in ancient time..."
she wore a shiny crown that sparkled from a million miles away
she drove her battle horses and whipped them all like slaves
blue skies all turned black as she came
trumpets blasted tormented tunes...her laughter was insane
eyes of evil hypnotized me as she flew into my presence
she captured and confined me on her crystal chariot
no exit or escape from her grip or gruesome grasp
as i struggled and i strangled like a lunatic she laughed
as the horses flew higher i thought it was a dream till she stripped my soul bare with a nod and a wink...my heart sinks
i'm shackled and chained to this cold conquest queen
now i'm killed by her kiss as she swallows my seed
like wicked weeds wrapped around a skeletons cranium i just can't break free from her crystal chariot
around and around and where it stops only God knows
now the horses are breathing fire and like bombs all set to blow
we descend into darkness as an inferno ignites
surrounded by smoke now we fall in the fire
her tongue starts to twist and her skin starts to sizzle...in a shrinking machine once large now i'm little
she pulls the bits and bridles and just flies away
my muscles won't move but my heart wants to chase...that hellbound harlot on the crystal chariot
I would like to thank you for your visit.
I have removed these poems for a distant future book publication.
I believe we poets, can make a difference
in this world. We live in the 21st century,
we have tools( technology), we have our past, and imagination.
We just don't have the courage, because
I guess most are afraid to fail, to loose money.
All I have to say is we can't take money with us,
when we die. I also say hasn't mankind failed enough,
and isn't mankind worth the effort, our children is worth the effort..
Thank you, and my your God Bless you
John E WordSlinger
in your chariot, you swiftly came
like a leaf gliding on wind
on your chariot, a golden name
that the ages refuse to rescind
in your chariot, you proudly stand
like the gods of Greece
on your chariot, an imprinted hand
grasping the scales of peace
in your chariot, alone you hold
the reins of your fate
on your chariot, a golden mold
of love, anger and hate
with the tilt of the head,
and a heart so heavy...
he sits on the floor of his home,
thinking every moment about his capital levy...
for there are days,
with nothing to pass the time,
the god himself is staying so long,
and the dryness has dried the pond's slime...
the particles of the dust ready to enter the skin,
with the skin showcasing designer patches,
they never bothered playing in the dust,
roaming around with the deep itchy scratches...
there's no fire,
not a dime for the mere matchstick,
the dampness is breaking the strength,
And so is breaking the house's every brick…
still, they live, they live like mopes,
carrying a soul, with the least of their hopes,
for they believe, a chariot might come to take everyone in their house,
until then they will wait, and they will not let their flames douse…
My Fairy Queen's Chariot
I watched the starry moonbeams through my curtains
With its sparkling lights falling on my face silvered
I smiled and cuddled in my cosy-cosy bed
Knowing that My Fairy Queen had swished her nightly magic wand.
The cooing of a peacock woke me out of my dreams
My heavy eyelids excitedly opened to see
My Fairy Queen's royal peacock chariot
Parked outside my window for me to be seated.
I put on my soft slippers, lifted my warm gown
And quickly sat on its velvety blue cushion
Its short horny beak gave me a nudge
To pull its silver bridle to hold him tight.
High above the sleepy furry clouds we flew
That like dollops of blue berry ice-creams for the world to taste
Up and down the clouds we glided
Giggling and sliding on our humpy-bumpy ride.
I hugged the sprinkling stars above the roundly clouds
I felt their kiss perfume my tiny little life
They gifted me their treasures of harps and violins
To sing of their music when the earth be in despair.
Reclining against the peacock's satiny iridescent feathers
We sailed above the seas to peer at its glittering shells and corals
Lying in its deep mysterious world inviting me to haul
Whatsoever I desired from its vast-vast sea beds.
I clasped my arms around My Fairy Queen's peacock
I nuzzled against its warm coat to express my gratitude
It swooped down gently to my starry window of delight
Promising many more joy rides for me to enshrine.
Balveen Cheema
August 15, 2015
When I am in isolation
Amidst the woods
I am not alone.
I think of the caves
And canyons and rivers
That Elijah sat in,
Just him and God,
Talking back and forth.
What kind of friendship did they form
In those desolate hours
That made God sweep him
Off the face of the Earth
In a chariot of wind and fire.
I watched the moonbeams through my curtains
With its sparkling lights falling on my face silvered
I smiled and cuddled in my cosy-cosy bed
Knowing that My Fairy Queen had swished her nightly magic wand.
The cooing of a peacock woke me out of my dreams
My heavy eyelids excitedly opened to see
My Fairy Queen's royal peacock chariot
Parked outside my window for me to be seated.
I put on my soft slippers, lifted my warm gown
And quickly sat on its velvety blue cushion
Its short horny beak gave me a nudge
To pull its silver bridle to hold him tight.
High above the sleepy furry clouds we flew
That like dollops of blue berry ice-creams for the world to taste
Up and down the clouds we glided"
Giggling and sliding on our humpy-bumpy ride.
I hugged the sprinkling stars above the roundly clouds
I felt their kiss perfume my tiny little life
They gifted me their treasures of harps and violins
To sing of their music when the earth be in despair.
Reclining against the peacock's satiny iridescent feathers
We sailed above the seas to peer at its glittering shells and corals
Lying in its deep mysterious world inviting me to haul
Whatsoever I desired from its vast-vast sea beds.
I clasped my arms around My Fairy Queen's peacock
I nuzzled against its warm coat to express my gratitude
It swooped down gently to my window of delight
Promising many more joy rides for me to enshrine.
December 21, 2015
Contest: Theme #1- Stars
Sponsor: Skat A
Sol's
gilded
chariot
slowly ascends
over fields of worshiping sunflowers
in a sky of burnt almond and orange
as morning light
directs their
loving
gaze
(Double Tetractys)
09-24-2020
Double Tetractys 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Photo #2