Long Cycling Poems
Long Cycling Poems. Below are the most popular long Cycling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cycling poems by poem length and keyword.
Phil embraced his disability when he acquired it,
And took up the disability sport of para-triathlon,
Where you swim, cycle and race a set distance:
He broke his back in 1991 in a cycling incident.
His nickname at school was Oggy, he was cool,
And is tattooed with Elvis, the king and the man,
He’s from Heanor in Derbyshire, trains at LUT,
Has two kids, Sam and Grace to know and love.
In the 2013 Para-triathlon European Champs,
In Antalya which is in Turkey, he won the gold,
And at some more Euros in Kitzbühel in Austria,
2014, he won silver. His times were epitomes.
In the 2014 ITU Para-triathlon World Champs,
He won another silver: that was in Canada,
In Edmonton, and in 2015 at the Euros again,
In Geneva, he yet again won a silver medal.
2016, and the Buffalo City ITU World Champs,
Phil came home in 01:12:09, 1 hr and 12 mins,
Then the Lisbon ETU Triathlon Euro Champs,
And Phil raced in a time of 1 hr, 6 mins and 22.
Strathclyde, and the ITU World Paratriathlon,
And Phil finished in a time of 1 hr and 10.50,
Then the Rotterdam ITU Paratriathlon Worlds,
And Phil completed the course in 01:07:46.
In Rio Phil finished in 8th place, and previously,
Before para-triathlon, he did wheelchair racing,
Completing many Bupa runs, like Great North,
And he also owns 13 caps for w/c basketball.
I’m a free spirited woman you silver see
So it is a goal to write free poetry
Love the style when done well it’s unique
Makes me smile inspires indigo peace
Like a wild flower in the blue breeze
This windy style from me seems to flee
Why can’t I catch the bug for free writing
Is it like falling in love while red bird sings
I’m emerald envious of poets who esteem
Writing in free style like spreading wing
While my mind unwinds a while rhyming
Like a brain on training wheels cherry cycling
Free style writer’s tell me one teal thing
How to make fire with white word bring
My hope of free writing to life from dream
Leave me a comment jump start my trying
The Big One and the Small One,
They held hands in the cosmos,
Before they came here.
They chose one another,
To learn from,
To try things,
To look back,
To try again.
They didn't know it at first,
But nothing happened out of the blue.
The stars had aligned,
Their sizes different but centres the same.
The Big One...
And the Small One.
Invisible before they were here,
floating and preparing,
Now their hands can feel and their eyes can see.
It seemed familiar, like they'd met before.
The Big One and the Small One,
Always meant to be,
A seed planted at the source,
A flower blooming and cycling.
What a blessing to witness
The End.
MY LIKINGS
I love to read stories, fairy tales,
also rhymes, poems and fables.
I love songs to listen and sing,
drum to beat and bells to ring.
Charcoal pencils I always fetch
As I love to draw and sketch.
With pastel and colours I venture
to paint beautiful pictures.
Swimming, Skipping and Cycling
are really my great likings.
White playing with my close friends
My vigour never to stop or end.
My delight flows to dance and prance
Always eager : Not to miss chance.
I love paper cutting to make patterns
of boat, bird, plane, flower, lampshade, lantern.
Rapid Reading -recitation
also attracts my attention.
When Mom hugs me tight and kiss,
That’s my great pleasure, best bliss.
03\06\23
Kids Creativity and Learning
Contest by Eve Roper
He took his Mom shopping, so she could walk with a cart
She had cognitive decline, and failure of the heart.
He took her in a wheelchair on the river asphalt path
He took over the taxes, because she couldn't do the math.
He drove her to the doctors, cancer, cardiac and more
He cleaned up the dishes, he vacuumed the kitchen floor
He took out the trash, managed all the bills
No time for things he liked to do, like cycling up the hills.
No time to read new science, he felt sorry for himself
Always in a rearguard action against declining health
But he thinks of the many years, from the age of two
When she did all this and wrote books, an ethic to be true.
But there's a twist, though others see him as faithful son
He attracted bad guys attention and then hope was none.
Trouble found Mom's doorstep, in some ways he's to blame
A criminal attractor, Mom paid for his past stain.
I took a nap one late afternoon
After parking my rusty bike far from our lawn
My nap took few minutes and soon
Bikes’ wheels turned into red watermelons
I got up eagerly and went cycling again
Showing my new bike to other children
Some chased to jump and ride with me
So we headed to the mountain-sides gaily
I noticed the uniqueness of my bicycle
With green tubes like vines but durable
It stretched out for a back seat, so flexible
Offering greatest ride and most fantastic travel
Up the hills and down the verdant plains
My bike flew high and landed down like an airplane
An effortless drive passing all flowering gardens
Two watermelon-wheels rolled fast like a train
Those who bullied me having a rusty bike
Thanked me while in tandem, they all liked
Going on smooth road trip – we all rock
But suddenly we stopped at a sound of a clock
Along with a loud alarm was my mother
Woke me up from screams that bothered her
When I opened my eyes, I found myself in my room
Then I remembered my bike parked far from our lawn
July 11.2022 9.52am
See ! Non living sources to initiate
living things to sprout ! Please appreciate !
Amazing ! So Surprising ! Marvellous .
Strange Procedure of Nature marvels us .
Potential energy has been conserved.
Nature claiming power and strength to be served.
Continuous Evolution going on —
with trial - error, subject to environ.
Birth to life , then formation - variation-
struggle, survival or even extinction !
Evolution ! A Blind Natural process,
Starting - Existing and Decaying ceaseless.
Through transformation Nature is versatile !
Cycling and recycling is Nature’s own style.
Five hundred years Giovanni Fontana had the notion
To rope gears to wheels and put it in motion.
One hundred years ago an idea came to Baron von Drais
Horses had been killed, ploughing required other ways.
Two wheels, no pedals, all made of wood
You had to push through the field, but still did some good.
A Scotsman added pedals, to the rear wheel
Maybe to celebrate, his friends danced a reel.
A Frenchman made the "boneshaker", which lived up to its name.
Ahead of its time, though reasons to complain.
It vibrated horrendously on the bumpy roads
Rattling teeth, rattling nerves, rattling loads.
Then England's "Penny Farthing" led the attack:
A five foot wheel in front, tiny wheel in back.
It was hard to climb on, and to keep a balance.
Every mount was a test of acrobatic talents
If you fell off without a helmet, it was hard on the brain.
Inventors went back to the drawing board again.
Radial spokes came in 1870, ball bearings 2 years later.
Progress is a goddess, love her or hate her.
Caliper brakes, multiple gears, shifters came fast.
Still too bumpy to have a blast.
Societies of bicyclists lobbied for roads paved and smooth.
Women started riding, old attitudes moved.
Across the pond Thomas Stevens rode a trans-U.S. ride.
With that kind of bike, a reason for pride.
Then pedals to gears got linked with a chain.
Derailleur was the next step, and a drive train.
The Italian Army used a foldable during World War I.
Between incoming bullets, they might have had fun.
Like the future Mountain bike, it handled rough terrain.
But for that, California cyclists tinkered, got the fame.
So that brings me to the day that I was cycling on a country road
composing verses, humming, reciting an ode.
Overtaken by two cyclists on electric bikes from Preston
Were batteries cheating? I glumly asked the question.
I concede it's liberation, more folks in fresh air
Their efforts assisted, but still mostly fair
Causality doesn't focus on me, of course
I'm just a convergence, a bike over a horse.
But all this history made it possible, on a rural lane
To move on my own power, through really nice terrain.
It's the beatings inescapable
drumming in the mind's inner ear
measuring out, how life is palpable.
There is no counting of the beats within a tear
they are steadily protected and contained
within the core of everyone, we fear too near.
See the eyes, the window to the souls unnamed
gleaming in the brilliant glowing blush
of every life that makes us whole again.
You are never alone in this life's ongoing rush
somewhere, someone loves you for who you are
calling out your name in a loving whispered hush.
Listen to the cycling patterns from afar
rhythmic arterial tenacious beating flow
as if magnetic spiritual rings of Saturn's stars.
There it is in the universe expanse set aglow
the heart bond in the tidal wave of you and me
pulsating in the moon, the stars, the ocean's undertow.
Open wide your eyes, your ears, your heart to see
the wondrous unconditional possibility of our universal reality.
for Regina McIntosh contest
Heart Universe
2/6/21
Long ago duriong my childhood Hon'ble M.L.A.s attended state assembly riding bicycles.
Officers of the govt departmens and staffs attended their offices
riding bicycles.
Policemen in groups went riding bicycles to arrest roadside gamblers.
If caught they were taken to police station on bicycles.
At school our Headmaster, teachers and staff came on bicycles,
some on foot.
As for the students most parents did not allow them to wear long pants nor use bicycles till they clear H.S.L.C. exam.
So they went to schools on foot most of them for miles.
At the college principal, lecturers, staff and studens came riding bicycles.
There were long bicycle sheds in the campus.
But today a few people use bicycles
and on the roads and market places bicycle users are looked down
as poor and starving people
But I dont shed my old habit of riding bicycle
often bumming miles in the countryside.
During the coronavirus lockdown time and again I came out
of the confinement at my home initially with timidity
pedaling my bicycle wearing a protective mask.
Although on the road police stopped the four wheelers, auto rickshaws
and power driven bikes, detained the drivers
or made them turn back non of them stopped me
as they thought bicycle users harmless.
So during lockdown often I pedaled my bicycle to the foot of lonesome
Nongmaijing hill
enjoying the scenary and gentle breeze there,
looking at the egrets flying in the sky and landing on the barren rice fields,
taking snaps of the countryside with my smartphone.
I returned home everytime regaled
without any fear of getting infection with coronavirus
nor police stopping me on the way.