Long Big wheel Poems

Long Big wheel Poems. Below are the most popular long Big wheel by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Big wheel poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member I JUST CANT WAIT TILL CHRISTMAS

I just can’t wait till Christmas

I just can’t wait till Christmas
With thoughts of ice and snow
And Santa in his bright red suit
Shouting ho ho ho.

Flying with his reindeer
With presents on his sleigh
Delivering them all by midnight
For us on Christmas day.

We put lights and bobbles on the tree
We do it every year
And a sign post in the garden 
That says Santa please stop here.

He comes right down our chimney
With presents in his sack
And we leave him milk and cookies
So he can have a snack.

I wonder what I`ll get this year
As I know just what I’d like
I hope I get a scooter
A skateboard or a bike.

We`ll dress our dogs like reindeer
In little reindeer suits
Put little antlers on their heads
And four black shiny boots,

Listening to our favourite songs
Played by a big brass band
As we take a trip to Edinburgh
Through the winter wonder land.

Hats and scarves and gloves on
As we wrap up nice and tight
With the markets lights and funfair
It`s really quite a site.

Merry go round and rollercoaster’s
And a ride on the Christmas train
The big wheel and Santa`s grotto
Then we do it all again.

Everyone’s on holiday
And their faces all aglow
Their worries left behind them 
Like footprints in the snow.

Crepe`s and chocolate pancakes
And strawberries on a stick
Sweets and treats and doughnuts
And I get to take my pick.

But my favourite is the great big tree
That`s too big for my home
And it really smells like Christmas
As we go inside the dome.

With lights and decorations
Like you`ve never seen before
They`ve travelled the world just for a glimpse
And they`re queued right out the door.

With winding vines of holly
Around the pillars it does grow 
And no matter what the weather
They always have some snow.

Then Christmas day is best of all
With presents under the tree
There is some for mum and some for dad
But most of them for me.

Unwrapping all my presents
And nothing has been missed
I got everything I wanted 
On my Christmas list.

Everyone comes for dinner
And dad fills up his belly
Then snores for an hour on the couch
As were watching Christmas telly.

Now I just can’t wait for Christmas
As I count the days and pray
But mum just shakes her head
And says its only boxing day.
Form: Rhyme


Cat a Log

The question has to be this. Is a meow a cow?

Q1…...................A Catalogue?

Well what can one say?
Really all that?
How can I possibly make it under the word count?
So many pages and items itemised mean that descriptions decipher coded callings
Well presumabley it would begin with an attempt to identify the word catalogue
So begin by pulling the word out in a concertinaed fashion
And that make what?
Cat a log
Always ignore and be very ignorant of a U and and E for a U and an E together are simply way too much of a headache and a sight to understand
Particularly if attempting a headstand on top of a big wheel at a fun fair
So a cat on a log could have many pages:
i. A large head. This page is filled with many items including fur and eyes and comes with free ears as a special introductory offer
ii. Paw page. Claws are optional although customers can opt to buy retractable paws or paws that can pull out. The pull out paws are the most popular.
iii. This is the page of the upper body. So details several fur options. As with the fur options of page one it is possible to have log or short fur styles and colours are of all hue including rainbow coloured varieties. 
iv. This is the middle section where customers can choose from a selection of sizes depending upon availability. And of course fur selection. And a range of colours too.
v. This is the back end of the cat so customers can choose a tail. Sometimes it is possible to request no tail particularly if the customer is from the Island of Mann. There is an absence of a tail upon that isle. Again it is possible to select the type of fur. And of course colours.
vi. The final section is the type of log. A wide selection of trees are available. Plus it is possible for customers to create their own log from a tree using an app called 'treenamer'. This clever app offers a beautiful range of wood from worldwide and cosmological locations.
vii. This is the index page.

And so that is a catalogue explained.
It is far harder to outline
A catamaran
A cat o nine tails
A cat nap
A cat kin............and how many more times?

When a pin becomes a paw it is time for the scratch of the posts.

Z Otocolobus manul Z at 44 claws to 9 whiskers

X
Form:

Gun Shy


You don’t have to say
one spherical metallic word
I know with GSW empathy credulity
just how you feel ... I bequeath kindred sympathy
Taking one lead body blow 
for the I homeboy visiting team,
was enough mental pain timeout for me
And the physical hurt toll it put on my body
made me frequently start falling to my knees
I can understand if you’re gun shy,
really I can
When you felt the quiet burn
of the silencer,
and the sweat of your fear
started to pellet fly
There’s a few blood splatter
reasons why
you’re audibly mute upset,
and so gun shy
Some whack eraserhead
unholstered their hostility on you
Bam, bam went the bullet hate — 
hot metal piercing flesh ... 
smearing cold iron-cooper fear
over your nude, trespassed privacy
I can understand if you’re gun shy,
really I can
I can truly relate 
if you thought death 
was your imminent fate
Really I do
You don’t have to say 
a single semi-automatic word ...
You’re gun shy,
and I know the trigger reason why
Your temple’s been invaded
by kinetic metallic thieves,
who left your wounded, 
praying soul to cemetery bleed
But putting a cap on the lip lid  
is gonna make you implode within
Though asking for a modicum of gun control
is considered a Second Amendment sin
Keep the treason 
on the tip of your tongue
from speaking
It’s best to remain gun shy,
never saying a word
It’s smart to duck when the bullets fly,
and the screaming is heard
Silence is double-O seven golden,
it’s good that your thoughts
ain’t got a license to kill
In the quietude of the grave,
victim death shout echoes do reverberate still
So, shhh ... stay low-key gun shy 
Any sound motion can be detected
by a revolver barrel indiscriminate eye
Heat seeking for some unsuspecting
bipedal target to Big Wheel die
Any guttural movement
is gonna get a crosshair, 
scattershot, fade-to-black goodbye
The kevlar-coated lip service politicians 
sternly suggest you keep
any over-the-top, brash comments 
under-the-counter on a locked vault cry
They say, now ain’t the time to be vocal and brave ... 
bite the bullet, 
and suffer your soul to die timid gun shy

Who Are You ¿

Who Are You ¿


What can you see of you
When everyone around you
Only sees the worst of you

When they are addicted to the weakness
Which plays to their ego

What truth of you
Is shown you

In the guise of love
They drown you

Does their habitual then become you
Does it fit
All that you see is the useless me
The troublesome
And to much trouble to be
You

What else can you see of you
When everyone around you
Only sees the worst of you

They convince you of your ineptitude
A platitude which describes
You
And never looks further into
The you
They have created
The you 
They take for granted

They are too comfortable
With heir impressions
Way too sure of their interpretations
And so self serving in their conclusions
Label you
Lets them use you
And easily
Abuse you
Without a thought or moment of conscience

And the great big wheel
Rolls
To its own great big circle
You listen
You accept
And in the end
Become what they said
Was true of you
And they have the affront to call this
Love

Who’s next in their game of self-embellishment


……………………………………………………………………………….. but


Perhaps 

You would like to see things from a different point of view
See all the love
And all the beauty
I see in you

Perhaps

You would like to see your strength
Your courage

Maybe

You would like to see yourself worthy

Eminently you are

Perhaps 

You would care to see
How I have seen your struggle
With a tender heart
And gentle hands

That others would curl to fists
In the face of their demands

Maybe

All you see of you
Is what they want you to

Maybe

You are far more
So much more
I am sure
That like a wild stallion
They seek to restrain
For the fear of discovering that they
Are less
And you

You are so much more

Perhaps 
Someday

You will see the lies 
For what they are

Perhaps
Someday

You will look at yourself
And see yourself through my eyes
All the love
You really are

Monstrous Violations of Reality

hi I'm Baxter Belknap Mandible IV
the Ninth Earl of Burneydick
I'll be heading your inner assault team
would you like the wine list
we have a nice Retaliation 666
somewhere over the rainbow
where every two-bit overheard whisper is an omen
and other vile statistical deceptions
where the big wheel spins like a drawbridge ratchet
but it never stops too many numbers 
and the future continues to remain hypothetical
in degrees depending on the reading
an experiment in capitulation and submission
it was the War of the Parasites
but when has it been otherwise
this is a mathematical demonstration
bold as a distillery padlock
that insanity is the flip side 
of merely more insanity
that would be Mandible IV driving 
his dream hearse down memory lane
smoke from burning bodies 
badly needing a wick adjustment
apparently fogged his lens
the horrors of the world are entertainment 
weather permitting we'll visit the ruins
and insist upon representation 
in the government Pilgrim Travel Advisory 
you see the difficulty
serenity having been proven
a monstrous violation of reality
pause
every idea is a unit of measure
another pause
the pixels swirled and another
unholy vision drifted past in the tide
riveted to my screen 
and it's trauma etched engrams 
picked up on my middle finger antenna 
in the last act you find out why
good bad and maybe mostly maybe
just trying to be more numerological
be certain of your conclusions
or call them something else
sure people's faces can be read
most are possessed by a mad hunger
or acts of cosmetic genius
proving it's more than brain chemistry
they told me that self-creation has its dangers 
lots of mockery out there in hammer land 
but there's no mocking your best efforts
kept them off my back for a while 
set free for the propaganda value 
and still always curious



From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/


Premium Member Air Balloon Ride At the Fair

Bright yellow, green and blue
Are some colours to name a few.
And in their daub or scroll compete compare
To the carnival’s lively and zany air.
Powdered faces pale announce
A disregard (of) or speak to superficial self,
As buzzing rides revolve and reel,
While the spielers project and create (their feel)
To sweet smelling grass in the down-trodden field.
See the open mouthed and blank-eyes clowns,
With heads that left to right, will turn half round..
When pretty Katie passes by, (Vivacious child in navy dress,)
Honey skin and teeth chalk white, under coiffure'd tress.
Within her hand from Daddy's passed 
A pink balloon all helium gassed'
while In the other hand is pressed 
An icy pole half past its best.
A stray dog, with darting chocolate eyes 
Espies the treat and makes a try,
Now poor Katie covers her face and cries,
As her air balloon makes its maiden ride  
Over the hot dog stall it goes' as Katie screams on tippy toes
While Rover wolfs his stolen delight,
Oblivious to the toddler’s plight.
Up…up into the atmosphere; and then a sudden rush of air,
It to the big wheel sends, from there, 
Where a wild-eyed lad with hair like straw
Fixes it fast; in a gangly paw,
But Daddy sees it all transpire, and scooping up Katie heads that way,
As Daddies will to save the day.

(ammended 19 04 2011) & removed 9 2nd 2018
© Joe Maverick 10-12-2010
Form: Rhyme

Endless Sea of Lost Dreams

Rolling waves seem to create,
And yet destroy,
What they began  to mold,
Tucking and sliding about,
Tossing and tumbling,
Like large water-droplets.

The sea reflects everything,
That mirrors in it's surface,
Spinning it around like a great big wheel,
Reaching far beyond eternity,
To the lands of my birth.

I wish that I could just drift away,
On those calm, yet peaceful waves,
Returning to those calm waters I once knew,
And loved so very dearly,
Where fond memories still lay dormant.

But this prison seems to bind me,
To this place of no return,
A paradise unlike any imaginable,
Where only me and my thoughts dwell,
Shifting like the sands of an hourglass,
Being flipped over to begin anew.

I watched as the tide came in,
Pulling the last rays of the setting sun,
Out into the never-ending vastness,
Of the deep crystal blue sea.

And the stars began to twinkle in the sky,
Like warriors of old, trying to guide me,
Guide me back to the one I love,
Who's memory shall soon fade away,
With the passing of time.

But I will hold onto this piece,
And will wish upon the stars,
That one day I will make it back,
Back where I belong in your arms,
And close to your everlasting heart.
Form:

Vacation

2/16/2016

Here comes the Queen
I mean 
Elizabeth sitting among prestige colleagues and staff
The red carpet delicately cleaned every hour upon to relax

The threads and mend the seem
From the window I see this Big Wheel spinning around
I am walking slowly keeping my feet on the ground
I smell crumpets in the air 

Can I take them aboard or do I have to share
Laughter fills my tummy yes full in fact
I see from a distance Buckingham's Palace bricks they stack
In such formation and clearly joined back to back

Giving the states a run for their money but back on tour
Here in this place I love to see for sure
The wheel has stopped but never this day
Where next will we journey Jack can't rip me off now I must stay

Sherlock home alone but the guards hold me down
Shh were walking pass some prominent people wow
I am having a ball wish you could be here as this place gives definition
It is not a dream but a touchy feel premonition
I stand in the street for real and see how they drive on the opposite side

Not causing ciaos not even famildihide can hide this much fun
well I know you want to know more but my job here is done
see ya lay'ah (see you later)

Bad To Good Spinning Wheel.

Bad to Good Spinning Wheel



It's hard to explain on how I feel..
My life has been turning on this big wheel.
I have always tried to do my best.
Staying alive has been my great test.

The Monster has once tooken over my brain.
It brought me guilt it brought me pain.
It showed me power then gave me control.
I was hurting people I was hurting souls.

I was selling things that blocked their minds.
Then they were hooked then they were mines.
I ran then rolled from place to place.
I took their money so they can just have a taste.
The Evil hovers a dark cloud over me.
My soul was tooken then my addiction wouldn't let me free.

Then one day God, put it to a stop.
He sent me to jail when I got caught.
I was there alone then scared.
No one would help me, no one cared.
Ther I sat for that one crime.
I was punished I did my time.

Then one day this man gave me this book.
It changed my soul, it changed my look.
The Evil has left now, I am free.
But everywhere I go my addiction keeps on taunting me.
So I Pray and Pray.
For this temptation, 
To Leave.
© Jack Reed  Create an image from this poem.

When Bodda Boom ! Met - Bodda Bing !!!

Years had passed still I had every bit of reason to grasp/

That true essence of what he said/
Yet there was many thought's inside my head ?
Like the time I drove my big wheel into the yellow Ollie !
I was speechless in thought and deed

Still I never bothered to take heed/

All I wanted to do was just speed !
That's how Bodda Boom met with Bodda Bing !!!
You all know what I mean ?
I even could hear that sweet little bird sing/

Bodda used to be a good friend until when
Bing came strolling into the town/
Many thought the freekin guy was such a clown
So nobody wanted him around/

Today Bing resides right next to The Jersey Shore
Last I knew he lived with a whore ?
Yet who knew/
About that two timer Boom/

He's the spitting image of Jessy James/
Then with his face I'd like to rearrange !
How could he do that to such a beautiful lady !
She's better off settling for Wavy Gravey !

So it was back to the past,
We had every reason to grasp/
That day when Bodda Bing met up with Bodda Boom !
Yet who knew ?
Form:

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