Best Cycling Poems

'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze;
He turned away the good old horse that served him many days;
He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine;
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Why do we spend so much time in the gym,
Why is it that we feel we must keep slim,
On cycling, long hours we spend,
But, go nowhere, in the end,
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Long and winding road
with patches and holes
The holes which sometimes
turned into small ponds,
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By our place in the midst of the furthest seas we were fated to stand alone -
When the nations fly at each other's throats let Australia look to her own;
Let her spend her gold on the barren west, let her keep her men at home;
For the South must look to the South for strength in the storm that is to come.
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Grey pigeon flutters on ledge of concrete.
Wonder, how it survives on urban streets.
Seen them flock in city squares as folks throw seeds.
Unlike hawks don’t swoop down and snatch with greed.
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Driving along in her bread truck early one morn
With everything going exactly as norm
Margaret spied a lone wheel on the left trundling ahead
Turned to her brother, the newspaper he read
...

Drudging my way through narrow pavements of dusty roads,
cycling with all my friends,
I played hide and seek with them
in a joyous mood,
...

I

GO TO WORK ON A BRAQUE!

2

Youths disguised as stockbrokers
...

ULTIMATING IN ZEROING
esspeecee…09.09.95.

~ Waking
...

Too young to know the horrors of a war I've fought,
too young to know war's fear, or yearn for heroism,
but old enough to have lived through;
boys but one year older than myself
...

There are so many things
To do which I would like
I would love to go cycling
But that’s after dad buys me a bike
...

The wobble said 'c'mon,
Take me out
It's a sunny day'!
...

I was reminded this afternoon of
The anonymous poem 'For the
Want of a Horseshoe Nail', written
Many centuries ago, probably by
...

'Perspective betrays with its dichotomy:
train tracks always meet, not here, but only
in the impossible mind's eye;
horizons beat a retreat as we embark
on sophist seas to overtake that mark
where wave pretends to drench real sky.'
...

At will, I dig into that treasure of memories
Built at home till my early twenties…
Cycling to school at eight in the dense fog,
Wearing a short skirt and a maroon knitted top.
...

'Konkani Mai Ascends the Throne'
(Hyperlinks are highly recommended to grasp the aura of this poem)
Dedicated to the memory of Fernando da Costa Leal
...

Anxiety rides my coatails...
As i push ever onward ahead-
Afraid to live...
Afraid to die-afraid of the dead;
...

The winter lake, surrounded by frigid trees
And naked branches whose now ankle deep
Soggy wet leaves carpet the lakeside path,
Has become an inhospitable place.
...

dying wish...
inscribe my plaque:
already re-cycling
...

The river Baitarani
full to the brim
in the midst of rainy season
ferry-crossing takes me to school
...

Feel the chill of freezing winter
To know the warmth of summer
Falling leaves of pale autumn
Evokes wish for green spring
...

for Rabbi Manny Viñas
“I am hereby writing this…for the sake of proclaiming the sanctity of the Torah.”
...

It is good to learn
And turn
Ignorance
To governance
...

Housed street
Breaking the day through a window-rift
Garden aroma hushing in waking up the mind
Lazy-hazy mood deterged to rise from grey dip
...

Nature provides us
air, water, essential elements,
energy and basic needs
to stay alive.
...

BUT people would love to
walk and trip purposely
on cycles you will get struck unnecessarily
at places you wouldn't like to be
...

Do you remember that lazy midsummer
In faraway Europe of long time ago?

I guess like me, you can still see
...

Little skirmishes of surly birds
Womenfolk's lazy walk to the wells
Cows hurrying stride to the fields
Leaving across street some dusty trails
...

...

Joyful rainy night, rhythmic outside of the solo mind,
Drunkard glass on the table of grey-eyed stars and
I'm looking for the rising poetry to row moonlight
...

Indirectly appreciating and directly pulling the leg
Friends in competition try to gain some moves ahead!
What a world it is full of competition always sans sense!
Perfection nobody bothers but finishing ahead all want!
...

The pretty skirts were put away
They no longer swirl in open air.
They will not be shown again,
Not until summer comes next year.
...

I’m on my little cycle and I’m
Whizzing through the street.
My gangly legs are spinning as I
Rub against the seat.
...

Wishing my daughter

Darling
Alike the dawn of Aurora
...

Friends are peculiar to him, I know,
Yet can't do anything, brow show,
Instinct and Wisdom, they are the two,
Always they shadow him, even in loo,
...

My little hands touched your chin when you held me close to you
My little curious eyes searched your face to find how much you loved
My little feet touched your elbows and I felt how secure I was in your arms
My little mouth gurgled to kiss you and tell you how lucky I was
...

Bruises on my hips
from a growth spurt, long days
of practising my brains
and always cycling against the wind
...

The splattering of water,
Wake me up from slumber,
The sun is as lazy as the tenants,
Rises late after seven in the morn,
...

Even while counting days
Never had I counted my breaths
Like at this moment
For
...

As warmth takes ahold, with Autumn dispensing
Brown-leafing clutter around the Lakeside,
Dragonflies sensing cool days approaching
Slice, noisily buzzing the air, then take hide.
...

I ride through my kingdom.
The spot i dub home.
It is to where i go,
my contrasting abode.
...

In my spare time, I love to ride
My bicycle out in the countryside.
I love to leave the town far behind;
Inner peace, I am hoping to find.
...

If we were to have
Just One Leg:

How could we -
...

Buddha, you are right, when you were confused,
Diseases and Old age are not fun to delight,
To the ones who have exposed their nerves,
to all worldly pleasures to seek and experiment,
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Life is but a dream
Light and dark, good and evil
Woe and joy combined
...

26 April 2001
in front of historic shrine
beyond media cam shadows
lights satellites
...

Gambling for this new night
Down in the hollows,
Drinking my watered down spirits,
Hoping to see real life- moonlit humanity
...

Remember I my college days,
The fun of cycling to nowhere
At the leisurely twelve an hour—
A speed enough yards to cover
...

Stripping Santa Clause of the crown of God
Would scarce him a lesser-loved old man make,
No use faulting Truth Fairy to face fraud,
They are not there standing on title's stake;
...

I like to play
Throughout the day
On weekends and holidays.
...

Chirr
LIGHTS on
plane Whirs
On dual lanes!
...

((1)) Rogue-a-vogue Stop Those Spinning Mills
Birl spins
The globe! A non
Sense vehicle's nonstop
...

"Compassion is the radicalism of our time."
Dali Lama

A first
...

And so the big day started at the crack of early dawn
With not so much a whimper, as a great enormous yawn
We felt that the front doorbell, was on fast repeat
As countless people then arrived, and parked there in the street
...

Sitting on the gallery benches
Heard I
The music of humanity,
The sad and solemn music of humanity
...

(1)
In the winter
The vitally important
Soil Microbial communities
...

Premeditated journey
Rolled on the grass
Caught dragonfly and butterfly
Swung in the air
...

[c] Jonathan Robin

Care Is Our Dream
...

There was a time when words did not matter
save for verbs – run, jump, stop, go…
or adjectives – hot, cool, SO mortifying.
Words snuck up like accidents,
...

My bum is
Aching…
Because of
So much
...

One pool was filled with brownish sludge
its colour similar to fudge.
The other stank of pharmacy
and bureaucratic chemistry.
...

Biking down Laurel Avenue at ten o'clock,
I see a woman sitting on a dark porch
propped up by two-by-fours.
...

So many awaiting outside
To learn, to yearn
To flee to see..
But wasted with that demon in head
...

tracing back the steps of my youth
cycling along what was the old tram route
and now is a park
into the city I grew up in
...

Long ago during 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.
...

Beautiful loch, autumn gold and amber trees clear crystal water. Cycling through the wooded paths the air is pure and crisp, warm sunshine shines through the oaks and elms glistening, wild flowers carpet the ground. With my beloved we embrace life and nature.
Michael Cochrane ©
...

Bicycle in Bustle

Trin! Trin! I get a new bicycle on rent
Pretty blue, embedded reflector and a bell of melody
...

Ambitious Being optimistic
Caressing my dreams.
Doing what is right?
Evolving into a new person,
...

I am the microcosm
A forest seed
The sun in a ray
The moon in its beam
...

To learn bicycling demands an effort.
The learning might cause pain and discomforts.
Learning over, cycling will become effortless.

Exert yourself and learn as much as you can.
...

In a circle where people run,
The first one runs behind the last one
And the last one before the first one
Everything is cycling in the world.
...

Cambridge is Brueghel's Village come to life
Warren of Gothic windows, red brick walls
Eating, laughing, drinking on the streets
Visitors throng the eateries and halls
...

Another long thing
To make the ladies squeal, I suppose,
Dark and sleepy trolled up
From the Welsh bog:
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Roll my eyes,
mutter some stuff,
jiggle my bellie,
then get a b12 shot.
...

Ouataga raised his arms to the sky
in offering for his people -
prepared to be ripped from life
by the claws and teeth of the Piasa
...

Through dark streets I ride
where cones of amber intersect the dark
In the distance dogs bark
And in gardens hedgehogs hide
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Happiness is walking hand-in hand with ur parents
Happiness is dad's hug
HAppiness is be the reason behind ur parent's smile
Happiness is sleeping on ur mom's lap
...

Today, when I connected the mob charger
To my mobile phone, the mobile asked me:
"Where is my original charger? "
...

Hear song of approaching bread seller
music theme familiar to sell his wares
music to announce his approach teller
music to advertise his meal time wares
...

your wishes
blessing already comes
true in the night
...

'The heaventree of stars' (in Ulysses as said Joyce)
'hung with humid nightblue fruit' (ah that Bloomian voice)
could evoke a masterpiece the world has come to know,
The Starry Night, so treasured now, by Vincent van Gogh…
...

Looking at a foto of Waterford City, of 1919, I see the windows open in the grandfathers house on the Mall, his pharmacy, there was a plague then too.
Air was thought remedy and for TB later outdoors was the cure.
And Camus, whose book The Plague now resells forty years after its writing gives air space a hope in covid times.
Our lockdownhas reintroduced
...

It begins as most days do
The alarm goes off signalling the start
Some people make it with just the one alarm
Others have two or three, four I've heard
...

Water

Waves breaking on the beach,
A couple of bits of hydrogen and one bit of oxygen,
...

A dark horse with neither hoarse voice nor coarse vocal cords
Springs a surprise on favourite athletes with plenty of spright
When a dark horse against all expectations tears records
At Wembley, in the Dakar rally, at Wimbledom where their might
...

An angel and a demon took love to town,
In its prime, they loss the track of time.
Yes they are in love with eachothers smile,
Compellingly sweet as an innocent crime.
...

Called him Gandhi
and see what he is doing.
Give a name Gandhi
and see what is happening.
...

Life - a shadow,
Thick and dark.
Here we cry
Here we laugh.
...

Come to me, O my faithful readers
I will show you what you like
What you dislike at this time.
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To get me on my bike
and reduce fumes, ha,
stats say average fumes are damaging my health
far less than not cycling would
...

We are mute like a granite slab
Docile like a piece of furniture
In a house
We are pliant like a boll of cloud
...

cycling alone
through the graveyard
I side-glance
my name
...

Don't ever get confused please,

Seeing the title ‘buy-cycle' instead of bicycle!
...

(… Humanity…Yearning… Mysterious… Nurturing…)

These
trying, calm
...

Love is an activity
Just like a hobby
It requires commitment
Just like a breath
...

Q. In the Age of the Internet
what's the use of newspapers?

A. Good question.
...

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It was start of my teenage years
It was blooming days of my girlhood
So pure and fresh were my feelings
I knew nothing other than my parents' doting
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How did we go on selling birds in stupidity market,
which the good author talks of,
how our flats and skyscrapers,
how life pulsating on the streets and footpaths,
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