Handlebar Poems | Examples

Like The Angels Of Heaven, With Wings Made Of Light

May you be guarded by Grace and wings made of light 
beside a gentle prayer, filled with God's might ! 
May life be a journey of knowledge and pure delight 
as you walk the path of love, may you be given sight 

May your days be courageous lived out to the best 
and if you get tired, give your heart some rest 
May you be  brave as a soldier in this life of gest 
know you're being watched from an Angel's nest 

May you be accepted and favored just as you are   
reside in the knowledge that to God you're a star
May you trust in the One who holds the handlebar
if you ride towards Him, ... you'll surely go far    

Like the Angels of heaven with wings made of light,  
like Angels of the Lord who hold vigor in their flight.

Ode To Michael Parks

Only a few
make a pact
with the wind

Only a few
know the joy
there within

Free of the shadow
that follows
and stalks

Escaping
tomorrow
in moments recaught

Horizons lie waiting
as pilgrims
embark

Voices like magnets
pull light
from the dark

Only a few
hear the music
on high

Through handlebar
portals
— embraced by the sky

(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)

Mr Abbott

Mr. Abbott

Mr. Abbott bought a 
 steam powered Stanley
He felt it made him 
 look rather manly

He has a large 
 handlebar moustache 
Constantly covered in 
 soot and ash

In his finery, 
goggles and gloves 
He would wave at his
 imaginary loves

Over the hills
 and over the dales
He would frequently stop
 for supplies and sales

Horses would buck, 
 cows would “moo”
Whatever the terrain,
 the Stanley got through

At the end of the day
 back in the barn, 
Mr. Abbott, in his chair
 would weave a yarn

His stories were 
 colourful and bold
Renowned for being
 exceptionally told
 
As the years drew past
 the Stanley would sit
Stiffening up
 becoming unfit 

The trusty machine finally
 rested in a meadow
Until today, 
 saved by Jay Leno

Valentine

Valentine’s straddling bikes, hiking it to the mall.
Youthful and carefree; passing trees in revelry 
as the sun plays peekaboo through its leaves.

Half a heart, each. Each pounding the busy streets.
A flirty wind blows her hair; his face valentine-red.
Her curves, pumping pedals. His handlebar smiles.

It’s a long way, longer than the day. Moon’s winking.
In gratitude of the Irish tavern, the cream of the crop -
friends pick them up, (and bikes) cram them into the car.

Sweethearts nestled together in one seat, barely breathing
room. Hot and steaminess must be contained for present
company. The bikes can’t stay still in the cool of the night.

Arrival finds them hand in hand - palming, massaging.
It’s that day - for him to pull out chocolates and a ring.
That will be on their first anniversary. Today’s just hot.

1/18/2023

A Princess'Lullaby

Little princess you've had a long day,
Running,laughing,keeping boredom at bay,
It's been lots of fun but now you must rest,
You need lots of sleep to look at your best.

So take off your day clothes and put on your nightie,
Then mam'll come up and tuck you in tightly,
I'll read you a story and sing you a song,
And you'll meet me in dreamland before very long.

There you're a princess and live in a castle,
You ride a pink bike with handlebar tassles,
You have a big bedroom and four poster bed,
With big fluffy pillows to tickle your head.

You own lots of toys and a furry white horse,
He lives in a stable,a big one of course,
You feed his dinner then off you both fly,
You shout look at me mammy as you shoot by.

But now its the morning and time to get up,
We've got nanny to see and Immy to beat up,
But the same time tonight once you've laid down,
I'll be in our castle to give you a crown.

You're a princess in dreamland and always will be,
And even in the real world you're a princess to me.

February 19th,2004

The Bicycle

Learn to ride a bicycle is not simple
As is life
The accessories like the pedals, the chain, the tires 
And the handlebar
Must all in good conditions
As are life essentials a must
You must push the pedals 
To move the bicycle
As are efforts needed 
To achieve a successful life
You must steer the handlebar
For a right direction
As is the right direction needed 
To achieve your ambition and dreams
There are always no short cuts 
Without efforts in life
God is never silent
He is giving lectures in nature
It's time we try to understand
Will we

Out On the Curb

At the curb
Without its mother
Rusty creature
Up to your knee
New born from the wild
Of unwanted chances
Hobbles on training wheels
Pink-perked handlebar ears
Hand written sign
FREE
Dangling by string
Around its neck
Cottonwood freckles
Snowing seed from the spring
Dots the little thing
The mailbox
And manicured lawn
Camouflages
A hesitation
At a honking horn
From our new neighbor
With young kids
Waving to the old
Out the window

Creature
Waits

Looks

Obedient
To the end or another beginning.

Snake Charmers

When the snake charmers walk along the lanes,
The excited kids follow them in chains.
Holding their snakes in round baskets and pots,
The charmers search for the suitable spots.

Wear specific attire for they have flair, 
Grow handlebar moustache, long curly hair; 
Keep hoop earrings, zari turbans on heads; 
Put blobs on foreheads; hung bead chains with threads.

Sitting cross-legged in front of those pots,
Grabbing our attention, untie the knots. 
Carry their flutes made of dried bottle gourds,
Play their music notes, expecting rewards.

The serpent rises from with its hood up; 
They move knees to the snake; a right set up.
It sways hood and makes hissing as if charmed,
Charmers too believe the same and affirmed.   .   

How do the charmers run the show freely?
Are they not afraid of them really?
The backdrop secret is ignored and skipped
The poor serpent’s fangs are almost ripped.


A STRAND (1066) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Date: 04-02-2022

Placed : 1st

Play By Play-The Pinkerton Story

Climb those many stairs, up to the stars.
“Cut!” Comes the child, the wee Pinkerton.
Stunt double, doubles down, with plethora of scars.
Fate is what it is, bumps, bruises...sorta fun.

Pinkerton rolls and bounces, ooches and ouches.
Then they call in the fingering ‘stache, for he smooths
the luscious hairs of his handlebar, never slouches.
Divine with his hands too, damsels-in-distress, he soothes.

Pinkerton pastes on his pastel beard, and breaks out
into a minor character. “Cut! Stunt dou—ble!”
The ‘Stache rips doppelgänger’s facial hair as Pinkerton shouts,
opens mouth, “Hey! Hey! That really hurt!” Now he’s in trouble.

Pinkerton pouts as he takes his final walk into the night.
Rubs his eyes as a werewolf runs by ready to attack.
Those mischievous stars yell, “Cut! Stunt double, fight!”
Alarmed, Pinkerton needs to know who has his back.

A werewolf snarls and twirls his whiskers with a pinky. 
Suspicious and brave, the kid gives him a karate chop.
Pinkerton unzips the stinker from bottom to top.
Found out, ‘Stache grabs his blanket and binky.

11/3/2020

Amor Imposible

“The path we're taking is not a road, Kiyo, it's a pier, and it ends someplace where the sea begins. It can't be helped.”
? Yukio Mishima


I will not love you.
I have read all your thoughts like rays of sunshine
poems that bloom in poppy fields
I hear them shaking when they go through my hair.
 A lump in the throat
calmed with songs of the nightingale
I will not love you.
We tripped over a handlebar
that Time dropped
while doing his rounds
catch your breath,
no one can steal our hearts in passing

I won't love you
No way, not a little bit in the vast night that falls before us
love is infinite only in this second when I will not love you!

Never Too Old

Never too old for good fun are we.
Like riding a bike! One doesn’t forget -
at least while we’re not out to pasture yet!
Ready, set, go! Keep it steady for me
up here on the handlebar. Give it your all!
(Whatever you do, dear, don’t let me fall).
Never too old for good fun are we.

Using picture #1 (Rhyme scheme: AbbaccA)
Oct. 14, 2019 for Joseph May's Make It Seven Poetry Contest

Poor Man On a Bike

Poor Man On A Bike

There is a viral photo of an Indian/Bangladeshi on a bike...
With 5 little children and his bedraggled suffering wife....
They all are seated on the bike, one kid seated up on his neck...
Another was sandwiched between him and his wife seated behind.....
Another kid was seated precariously on the handlebar of the bike...
One child was seated in the front basket to sandwich his kid brother against the father...

You and I, we see a poor man on a motorbike..
We shake our heads and wondered inwardly how they survive....
For the poor man, his children are his wealth....
With blessings from God above, he will be alright...
Yes, for the present he suffers to provide...
But over the passage of time, his many children will prove him right...
The poor man knows, it is a challenge to provide for his large family...
But when they are grown, they are priceless assets he owns...
For the poor man and his wife,  his children are God given assets....
His duty is not to moan and groan why, his is to provide and survive....
Heavens on earth comes later when all his kids are grown...
For the present, he is just another Poor Man On A Bike....

Hohoho....

Night Lovers

At the dead of the night
When the sunset had turned red
Two lovers walk
Hand locked in hand
The moon arrived in time to write a story
The clouds darkened in desperation
The stars and galaxies gathered to witness

Two lovers naked and cold
Approach the sea 
Ready to become lost to the world;
Found by themselves 
Two lovers;
Single-mindedness
One goal, two bodies, one heart
The night belonged to them

Two lovers stopped at the shore
Lay down to a kiss passionate
Tears overflow
They feel every part of their body
For they know this was their last
His hands found her mounds;
Clutching them like a handlebar,
He began driving hard
She moaned
They wept,
Hugged and took a dive into the blue seas
Together

Wordvomit

He/She/Lemmingsonabridge  BAH!  SAYS YOU!
WHAT ISN'T ARTsyfartsy?
Tickle my eyes
sensations blurring
casserole fishdish
cold stone marble ears
Fiddledeedrumsticks  handlebar mustache
calligraphic impotency
within the fireworks
of eastern Jupiter
Apples
Cattle ranch
my little ones
I love you I love you I love you
Salamander Samba Salsa Simba Silence Speaking Sacrilege
Loquat
Sorry Wait Water Weight Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Minneola minaret
I DON'T GET IT
I can't peel my hair!
KABOOM
spiral
Can anyone tell me the truth behind the lemon tree's bastard son, the emerald?
My brain's a leaping hopscotch feather
Ape ricotta
Ernesto Zucchini
April dentist
and... stop.
okay go!
eating tom's a foolery
Bean turd soup?
Who you calling a dirty orangeeater?
I am lord of the marshmallow!
Take a bite out of My Fig tree because
I forgot what time the dining hall
BANG COLLAPSES

Tears and Frostbite

A winter day 
you came to school
red faced and crying
your curly hair all ablow
wringing your red red hands
late
rode your bike
tears and frostbite

Forbidden to talk I saw
 teacher
scold you in the hallway
while your eyes dripped
over the pain in your face
your hands bent as if they would
forever grip the handlebar

"Where is your mother" asked the teacher
"Where is your mother?"

tears
and frostbite.

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