Best Wheel Poems
What goes up must come down.
No colors can define who you are.
You may own a cart or limousine.
We'll still reach the end when it is near.
I may be poor today and eat from trash.
Tomorrow, you can't tell. I'll earn some cash.
The bed where you lie is soft and wide.
I sleep at a sidewalk and the stars are my lamp.
You wake up each morn' with a feast on your table
While we are scavenging to fill stomachs when we're able.
Our destiny isn't written in the stars.
We work for a living to thrive in this life.
Be thankful every morning you witness the sun
And pray tonight that no one lives same as I.
Wheels come in full circle,rolling round and round.
Today you'll be on top,
I am watching from the ground.
Let us bear in our minds that we are better than birds.
Our loving Father ensures each mouth is fed.
Not even the smallest details can pass by His eyes.
So plant a seed of kindness and reap a better life.
sponsor:FRANK H.
name of
contest: SHAKESPEARE
*5th Place winner
Categories:
wheel, faith, god, imagery, life,
Form:
Blank verse
I can't describe just how I feel,
when I go round on a Ferris wheel,
the lights, they shine so bold and bright,
above the carnival grounds tonight.
My mood is uplifted into the air,
as my heart beats without a care,
I feel so free, as if I could fly,
with nothing between the ground and I.
The cool night wind flows in my hair,
the people look so small, way down there,
I hold my breath as I go over the top,
a feeling, surreal, I don't want to stop.
As fear escapes and I enjoy the ride,
I can't help but look down, over the side,
I am up among the stars and the moon,
an exciting feeling that ends, all too soon.
Categories:
wheel, fun, happy, night, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
Pulling with hands soft and smooth as glazed clay,
Her foot prods the pedal, turning the wheel.
She basks in the bliss of a beautiful mess.
She's learned art is born from that carefree mess.
Moulding with hands caked in layers of clay,
She makes artwork dance on that spinning wheel.
Her bones creak along with the aging wheel,
Silver hair spattered by flecks of sweet mess.
She glazes with hands rough and cracked as dried clay.
Beyond clay and wheel, life spins a fine mess.
*Form: Tritina
Categories:
wheel, art, life,
Form:
Tritina
Thousands of gentle caresses, soft touch,
From the potter’s hands to properly guide
Tenuously stretching sides he might crush,
If too much pressure his fingers provide.
Young heart made of clay, forming on the wheel.
To guide your unfolding, our sacred charge.
Push we must, yet your own shape you reveal.
A careful balance, an impact so large.
Kiln’s searing flame awaits, the piece’s trial.
But before, time drying, forming in place.
Away from well meaning hands and anxious smiles.
Then ceremonial paint brushed on face.
Tempered by scorching waves of heat, the bowl
Gleams triumphant, a grail to hold the soul.
3/5/16
Categories:
wheel, art, children, parents,
Form:
Sonnet
My heart shrivels dry, blackened rose in bitter anguish, ...
Do you feel my pain?
Why must the flame of day dwindle dim?
O' fortune, like the moon, changeable, waxing and waning
Oppressing me, first with power's soothing stroke
To take it all away!
Poverty of my spirit lies in love's immortal wake
Why fate of fortune, cruel regard, forsaken me?
Vain, and shadowed, I waver between the balance
Such agony is mine!
Day and night, everything defies me?
Great is my grief!
One cure, escape me from the throes of my misery !!
I beg, the Gods... hear my wail, hear my plea
Would fate be cured by kiss, one look, one sign, devotion? !
This wretchedness is black, I taste bitter ash!
Keep dark night hidden in the depth of your heart, o' moon !!
I am like a leaf, played with by the wind
I am like a light hovering bird, chains cannot bind me !!
Salvation comes with desire, one touch
Do not turn the eyes away...!
I cannot be shamed!
Torment me not, o' heartless moon!!
Wheel of fortune spins my heart...I beg to win love's prize !!
Without it, I will bemoan the wounds of fortune with weeping eyes
.... and I am cursed as I fall from the peak of glory....
into the depths of the valley of despair !!
________________________________________
protogothic entry: for Amy's Contest:
________________________________________
Inspired by the classical music, "Carmina Burana"
A cantata, written between l935-36 by German composer Carl Orff.
This passionate work was based on ancient poems hand-scribed in Latin...these parchment
manuscripts discovered in a Bavarian monastery in l803. They were believed to have been
written by students of the clergy (monks) sometime during the 11-13th century.
This familiar music has been used in numerous film scores..quite dramatic and powerful
Categories:
wheel, musicme, me,
Form:
Narrative
The Mill wheel wouldn't turn until the Spring
And still today in thought a chill it brings
The vision of the ice upon the lake
That time in passing still can not erase
That mill wheel in the grip of winter's breath
Stone cold and still ... a lifelsss wheel of death
When on that morn there in the ice appeared
Beneath its surface there a face of fear
Whispers ran through the town from door to door
Whispers that Charlie Winters killed Lenore
Frozen streams of blood there on the wheel
Found on that morning... by old man Mac Neil
A long lock of flaxen hair...gathered there
Beneath that wheel...a weight to much to bear
Oh ! How the broken vows of marriage weep
Ice melts, revealing secrets wheel creaks
~~~
Behind these prison bars I pass the years
Finally stripped of anger by my tears
July 15, 2018
Author: Elaine Cecelia George of Canada
Categories:
wheel, murder,
Form:
Rhyme
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…
Categories:
wheel, dedication,
Form:
Free verse
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.
Categories:
wheel, clothes, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
The clouds have formed a mare’s tail in the sky,
a fitting image, for I’m being led
beneath them, where in eerie silence lie
abandoned stalls, untended land, a shed.
And on a gate, like some strange souvenir,
a halfway broken sign reads “Wagon Wheel.”
That horses once were bred and ridden here
both grime and span of time cannot conceal.
But farther down a lane, behind some trees,
(where happiness once lived!) awaits my spring -
a large house, shuttered, with its memories.
In front of it still hangs that wooden swing.
Above long grass and weeds it starts to sway.
The ghost of me has now returned to play.
For the Love and Loss Poetry Contest
Categories:
wheel, loss,
Form:
Sonnet
I saw an old wagon wheel in the antique store the other day.
What type of vehicle it must have conveyed, I couldn't really say,
But I let my imagination roam as I studied the old wheel,
And pondered its odyssey and what secrets it might reveal.
Its iron tire was pitted and rusted due to age.
The wooden spokes were intact but their age was hard to gauge.
Its diameter was about five feet and its tread six inches wide.
Ah, if it could only speak to me, its mysteries to confide!
Could it have carried a pioneer family in a Conestoga wagon west,
With the anticipation of a new beginning in their relentless quest!
It with other wagon wheels rutted well-worn trails along the way,
And traces of those treacherous routes are seen to this very day!
Could it have graced an army lorry drawn by cantankerous mules,
Driven by a pugnacious trooper to deliver hay, grub and tools?
The wear and tear was evident due to many military campaigns,
Crossing perilous rivers, mountain heights and endless arid plains.
Or could it have borne a farmer's wagon as he plied his trade,
Hauling crops of wheat, corn and oats once the harvest was made?
Oh, the many miles it endured through the mud, dust and snow!
I left the store still musing about its odyssey of so very long ago.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Categories:
wheel, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
I've startled a frog, who leaps in flashes.
He and a grasshopper zig-zag away.
The lawn whispers mildly, in tune with the sun,
Yet something's amiss--the air is unsettled.
Squirrels and I stash away seeds,
salvaged from spent, rain-ravaged beds.
Bees are now torpid and cling to the mums.
Bedraggled zinnias give up the ghost.
What becomes of the Grim Reaper's harvest,
of creatures who cannot withstand the strain?
The mystery hides in an infinite point--
the one in the center of The Great Hub--
the crux of a myriad transformations.
Categories:
wheel, autumn, garden, mystery, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Palette of nature
Sunset picks all the colors
From garden flowers
Categories:
wheel, nature,
Form:
Haiku
In perpetual slow motion the wheel of fate will turn,
What is given in abundance will surely be taken away.
Leaving only questions of why that scald and burn
When the bill seems so unfairly high to accept and pay.
For the lean will yap on the heels of prosperous fat
A dire warning that silver linings are a one way gate.
For when I blindly come out to take my turn to bat
I'm unaware of the curve ball thrown by fickle fate.
So I bargain with God and Fate and Lady Luck
Omnipotent in some far off nebulous recess.
In rules beyond my understanding I am stuck
A helpless pawn in their intricate game of chess.
For fortune can shatter and turn on a simple dime
I search for meaning in a game I don't wish to play.
In the running sands of my life and remaining time
Illusive hope the only constant I pray for today.
In perpetual slow motion the wheel of fate will turn,
Surely giving back that which has been taken away.
Everlasting hope and despair that evolve and churn
As I drink deeply from the cup of maybe-some-day.
Categories:
wheel, hope, introspection, lifehope, ,
Form:
Rhyme
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.
Categories:
wheel, visionary
Form:
Free verse
A potter’s wheel
I spin upon,
Removing endless,
Saddened wrongs.
Who am I God?
What do You see,
Within the plan
You made for me?
Forsake it not,
This searching mind,
That quests to prove
Your Word Divine.
No soul may grow
To truth within,
Until is known
It’s hidden sin.
It hurts to free
My selfish pride,
And look upon
This wretch inside.
Please open, Lord,
My deepest part.
Remove the anger
From my heart.
Bend me til’
I’m sure to fold.
Take unforgiving
thoughts untold.
To ever know
Your truth revealed.
I must replace
This shame and guilt,
What else to know,
What more to learn,
From spinning wheel
On which I burn?
The wars I’ve won
Tho’ battles lost,
Has dearly taught me
What it costs.
My soul cries out,
My spirit strains,
Each time I feel
Your guiding hands.
A drop of water,
Dare I ask,
To cool this pot
That it may last?
With skillful ease
And calming touch,
Show me now
Your Love’s enough.
Perfect this soul
You mold in me.
Until the day
It looks like Thee.
Categories:
wheel, faith, forgiveness, hope, may,
Form:
Rhyme