Whirlwind Poems - Poems about Whirlwind

THE PRIMAL WHIRLWIND

A clash between two atoms.
An explosion — the Big Bang.
And so it began: with an eruption.

A cry of fire.
A chaotic dance of matter.
A beginning born of rupture.

How could it have been otherwise,
when creation itself began with conflict?

And here we are—
millions of years later—
on a planet of conflict.

A whirlwind of forces,
an endless struggle between people,
between ideas,
between

The 'Whirlwind'

  
     Despairing of lightening her mood
        ten children her burden
        her life spent
          pushing and tugging 
         

Whirlwind of Hope

Whirlwind of Hope 

I found strength 
amidst the rolling wave
it’s steamy showers 
giving a balmy calm
the bellowing wind
buzzing past
pause to whisper a secret
resounding my passive desires
that you are a part of me 

Whirlwind of Untamed Fantasy

Written: June 18, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Constance La France

Quote: "The lamps are different, but the Light is the same." By Rumi

        ********************

The shame I bear yearns to be set free,
Fantasies conceal what people must foresee. 
A whirlwind of visualization—eerie, untamed,
Imagination dares where rules are disclaimed.

How I

Whirlwind

My mind spins in endless flight,  
chased by shadows of self-doubt.  
Love’s mirror feels unkind tonight,  
each flaw a storm, my heart shouts.  

I wish to rest where calm resides,  
be free of the chaos within.  
But winds of fear whisper, collide,  
uncertainty sways where I begin.

Yet in

In the whirlwind of my thoughts, every question spins like an unwavering storm

In the whirlwind of my thoughts, every question spins like an unwavering storm,
a slippery enigma that escapes every attempt to grasp it in my palms,
a million whispers dance in my mind, day and night, never pausing,
like a spring tide forcefully hitting the shore, they strike my mind with a deafening echo,
I spill my thoughts when

The sand swirls the seconds in a gentle ash whirlwind

The sand swirls the seconds in a gentle ash whirlwind
time blows its song upon the columns of a deaf temple
the king of memories scatters his crown on dry sand
the vassal of regret carries silences in sacks of heavy light
each moment pulses in the palm like a glass fish
I hear the future tremble under the eyelid

DUSTY POET

DUSTY POET

Dust before donkey doomed 
            a wicked whirlwind 
grains of wisdom wrinkle 
           sand webs 
              dust devitalise land 
here

The beat goes on

Since you have been gone  
A lot of water has passed under the bridge
 
A mixed bag of events have occurred
Leaving behind earth-shaking calamities 

Difficult to quantify 
As confusion like whirlwind 

Keeps spreading and threatening 
The very fabric of National Cohesion 

Nobody knows what to believe anymore 
As looters of our commonwealth
 
Keep spewing

In the whirlwind of time, who said that seconds are decreed

In the whirlwind of time, who said that seconds are decreed?
That your steps must align with others’ concrete success indeed,
That arrival is an unyielding mandate, and deviation a defect?
You see them climbing the spires of their creation without regret.
In iron and glass they carve their legacy, while you remain silent,
A shadow frozen in the ruins

In the whirlwind of the wind, my soul also spins unyieldingly

In the whirlwind of the wind, my soul also spins unyieldingly,
On watercolor wings, the seasons carry me aloft,
Through wrinkled fantasies, the heart's mistakes shatter,
Waltzing in the whispers of waves, my soul cradles gently.
Under the watchful rain of stars, my dreams drip slowly,
The talisman stained with tulips hides unspoken truths,
Stepping lightly over the threshold of dusk,

Battling Mind

 
A whirlwind of emotions
A cyclone of wandering thoughts 
A tempest of trepidation 
That leaves me baffled and distraught 
The devastation of my battling mind 
Wreaks havoc in the soul's sacred shrine.

Wind speeds

Gusting
Trees swayed by breeze
Leaves blew across the field
Dust lifted into a vortex
Whirlwind

In the whirlwind of time when leaves weave their copper cloak over my wandering soul

In the whirlwind of time when leaves weave their copper cloak over my wandering soul,
I let myself be carried by the wild dance of the forest whispering the tale of a rusted season,
While my hair becomes a nest for autumn dreams falling in an infinite rhythm,
And I run through the carpet of gold and purple,

We press on, bound to yesterday, dragging chains through time’s tight whirlwind

We press on, bound to yesterday, dragging chains through time’s tight whirlwind,
The prisoner is not the one who has erred, but the one haunted by their mistakes.
We are all guilty of the great crime: not learning to be simple,
But by choosing to be free, we can liberate ourselves from the endless, dark past.
We carry with

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