Best Spinning Poems
The Beauty of Charkha the Spinning Wheel
The Poem is dedicated to Mahatma Gandhi and his Charkha.
When first time I looked
At the Wooden Charkha*
With a child’s curiosity to know,
What it was?
I had seen it
Without caring and knowing much,
What actually the thing was?
For me in my childhood days,
It was then
Just a toy like instrument with wooden wheels
Equipped with some simple mechanism
To move a wheel from one hand
And to take out the yarn
On the wheels of the Charkha
From the other
Emerging like a never ending rope
Resembling the heavenly figures
Which attracts the viewers
In all the classic works of art.
To me in those moments
The making of the yarn on a Charkha
Was like coming out of a magical thing
From the white cotton lovely small bales
From which the Charkha was
Pulling the threads
And twisting the thin yarns
To make to make it a stronger weaving yarn.
The outcome was astonishing
In the form of cotton yarn
Which the spinner produces
On the wheels of any Charkha
By his soft and simple hands
It was a thing which would have fascinated
Any child and even the grownups
In those days
When the treasure of knowledge
Was not so easily available
By clicking a button or moving a mouse
And simple things used to give us
The most delicious pleasures of life
Which we try to find and keep searching
In every possible places today
With the help of innumerable
Search engines.
I had very little idea in my early childhood
How a fabric was made from cotton tree
And what it was
That we know as cotton
Which ultimately gives us
The most fascinating comfort and pleasure
In the form of our soft and sweet
Lovely dresses.
Ravindra K Kapoor
Kanpur India 24th May 2015
To continue in next…
The Beauty of Charkha the Spinning Wheel 2
The Poem is dedicated to Mahatma Gandhi and his Charkha
Part 3
The rapidly emerging new discoveries
Were influencing and enchanting
The ever thirsty mind and hearts
Of every adventure lover.
The entire Europe and the remaining world
Of that Era
Almost became crazy
After watching and witnessing
The new magic’s
Of that wonderful thirteenth century
Glued with the stunning new discoveries
Which was appearing one after another
Bewildering everyone of that age.
New stories of love and adventures were appearing
With new amazing attractions and lore’s
Which always enchants the human mind
Like the islands of amazements and hope
Inviting the adventurers and young lovers
To come and see, to enjoy and relish
A totally new more intoxicating and elegant
But untouched wine
Of the unexplored East. …
Stories about of these unknown lands
Had already reached and stimulated
The young throbbing mind and hearts
Of the new young voyagers and lovers
Who were keen to go and bring with them
An entire new world
For their sweet hearts and beloved’s.
Many voyagers were ready
With their long cherished longings and dreams
Which had in them
The hidden untold desires and ambitions
Equipped with God gifted muscle powers
To mold anything and above all
They had the bold and strong determinations
To throw themselves and their ships
On the waves of the vast unlimited
And unexplored oceans
Without caring for the sea storms and
High rising waves.
Ravindra K Kapoor
Kanpur India 9th June 2015
To continue in next …..
Protected under the Copyright provisions of Poetry Soup.
Hear ye, hear ye: Listen to my timeless presentation
If you'd like to conquer anger, irritation, or vexation.
My name is Emerson, Ralph Waldo if you please,
I founded Transcedentalism, creating a fresh breeze
Which elevates and fortifies an individual's will and spirit,
To withstand provocations intended expressly to smear it.
The vehicle is simple, a child's plaything:
A spinning top designed to give us a wing,
To raise us above petty squabbles and strife,
Bringing peace to the world, enriching life.
The top has four sides, each with a letter,
Symbolic of strategies to help us to better
Withstand darts and arrow aimed by others at us
As we keep our own counsel: Discuss---never cuss.
Spin the top as fast as you can,
Wait eagerly to see where it lands;
If 'B' is face up, it means 'Breath:'
So 'Take a Deep Breath;'
Exhale -- Anger's died an angelic death!
Spin you magic top again:
If it lands on 'S,'
Smile your widest smile,
Grin your jolliest grin:
Now there's no way at all for irritation to seep in!
Once more twist your top;
Watch it land on 'C.'
'Count to 100,' then wait and see:
From vexation you'll flee;
You'll feel only glee!
The last side the top can land on is 'L.'
'L' stands for 'Loss' -- Compare it with 'Gain:'
You Anger will only land you in Trouble again,
Whereas Peace and Tranquility win the day,
Providing adults much-needed opportunity for play.
Now I know our tops are not cheap,
They're priced pretty high;
But what matters money
When you soar to the sky?
February 28, 2018
spinning wheel.
round, round.
hypnotizing.
never ending.
your mind bending.
spinning.
the wool turns to yarn.
from big to small.
transforming.
circles over circles
moving.
stand still.
spinning wheel.
simple minded.
complicated.
igneous.
calm the mind.
work the fingers.
smooth thread.
rough ramouillet.
round, round.
spinning wheel.
Starvation rules this spinning globe.
Energy is seized.
While goats and cattle strip the grass of peaceful light,
Vultures shred the organs of disadvantaged game.
As packs of wolves surround the heard,
Eyeing the weak and lame.
Buzzards circle overhead seeking every chance,
To pluck out the eyes of the men who fail to understand,
That he must take life to continue his own.
Those who don’t consume life’s rich plate,
Will fail to reach its end in strength.
Is nature blind to the suffering of the weak?
When so much blood is spilled.
Or is strength built through heartless savagery?
Who would not defend his offspring from cunning man,
Hungry beasts, and the vicious pains of hunger?
Some will say man has risen above such talk.
We stand exalted from the fray.
But larvae will not avoid those with foolish pride.
While lovely worms consume the flesh of broken stride.
(Spin)
And I will spread this like wildfire
with love and seflessness,
I will make hot the world.
(Spin)
To not broaden your heart's landscape
is to not see all of suffering.
Without this ability we are hopeless in our thinking
that we are alone in our suffering.
(Spin)
In the mist of struggle
I cannot breathe without writing something.
(Spin)
gold kisses sunset
red lightning pierces new dawn
blue earth spins along
Spinning the Resort
By Elton Camp
For guests the resort does advertise
So it will be desirable in their eyes
Since the building is old and run down:
“Located in the historical part of town”
The heat and air don’t work very well:
“About the local climate you will tell”
Grounds are shabby and grass knee-high:
“From your room, untamed wilderness spy”
Windows are loose and some are cracked:
“For our hotel, ventilation has never lacked”
All the hotel furniture is faded and worn:
“Antique items from before you were born”
Plumbing is defective with leaks and all:
“As you sleep, you’ll hear the water fall”
We have no phones, television or Internet:
“The most peaceful vacation you can get”
Nowhere will guests an elevator ever see:
“Exercise is always provided to you free”
With so few guests, the daily rate is large:
“You will be astonished at what we charge”
Since the dining room grub isn’t fit to eat:
“Our cuisine, weight loss will complete”
Because nobody returns for a second stay:
“Bustling crowds will never cause dismay”
on and on and on
we climbed on painted horses
we hitched a ride on a conga line
rode on the luggage collection airport rides
watched the slide-show cycles on endless repeats
for life's a carousel of roundabouts
on those merry-go-rounds,
on and on, on and on,
with no beginning,
end or meaning,
spinning not
to heaven,
nor hell,
dream
on
Spinning Webs And Sad Gray
Spinning webs hold my life in place
gems waiting from flames yet to be lit
Why would set sail to another shore?
When this one, rocks as it slowly moans
Morn's new frost never touches my toes
nor dawn's beaming rays fail to inspire
Car wreck yesterday by our home
roadside two bodies, lifeless there lay
I wondered will school be different Monday?
Now that death has touched my soul
Last year father died, and my tears I withheld
not manly to show such a display
Lessons learned at home and at life
Death, death has the final say!
R.J. Lindley
1970
Old Note. Winter's bitter cold tells me I am still alive..
New Note - First poem in my oldest surviving private journal.
I thought today may be a good day to post it , as it was written in June, one year after my father's death in 1969..
Third Note- Funny how it doesn't even rhyme...
spinning carousel
riding the colored horse
of my dreams
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Tonight, the big bright hanging moon is smiling
My spinning world is singing, lovingly accepting your ring
©Donna Jones
lapis lazuli
a gem spinning in the sky
a whisper of clouds
I was sleeping and dreaming, silently screaming, while violently weeping And mildly feeling that I was honestly grieving I was quitely greeting my anxiety's breathing It was wildy eating at who I was... I could see through the mirrior he was frustrated Feeling devestated, felt isolated, feeled truly aggravated Did I mention the love and hatred upon his eyes Or even the soul teared through a genocide A gemini inside, but set aside he felt terrified But through the lies disguised in your mind He was ultimately petrified...It was you that was scarier then ever, even his barrier Now I'm flying high like a harrier, with you i'm more marrier Was it scary cause of your terror, or your character? See I truly miss you miss, you're a beautiful beautious Broken and brutal, but with you I see what beauty is I love it, cause you're so humorous, is it obvious? I'm operating this auto race Just for you, I'd be dominating...I'd be going pedal to the metal, just till it's settled I just want to win a medal, I'm feeling kind of dreadful I've even beaten my only devil, going crazy, am I mental? Nah, it's where I extract scratched tangets and you stare vast in past pamphlets And you have no answers for your last math's classes, within exams I see you vanishing You close your eyes and drift in planets'n'canvases, and you crash in crafted canyons That clash with granite and imagitive paniced bandits with a habit that granted An attached handprint that reflected my poetic languages They call us anguished animals, but I pass on my damages, on through these messages See I may look different with my clothes that are charred and almost carved off I'm scorching like dark hearts, and warped like barked bronze Can you see I was meant for journalling? I'll be discerning them, as they see me surfacing I'll just be surging in, and it's you that i'd prefer to bring even out of all these earth-a-lings I hope it's permenant, you showed me what my purpose is, I needed the encouragement It was a form of your subtle perfectness, is it courteous that you bring me nervousness? Right now, you got me prouder then, all my extended ends, it's pride from you that i'm conjuring in.... Your loves got me flying high in your turbulence, it's a superb inherent gift, I don't think I could picture it, It has me feeling one with the churches and all my burning urges end...
---------------------------
ice melts on heated
glass like ducks spinning atop
puddles of warm rain
---------------------------