I know we all
love perfect geometry
so there I laid
making sense of the scene
staring at the machine
and knowing- it needs me;
I am the missing piece
But then I wondered
which part would I be
resting above the bicycle seat?
crunching the cogs-
and hogging all the good teeth
instead disguised in the frame-
-in the open triangle-
-under the icon-
-under the handlebars-
-a part I don't know the name-
but the one trying to make ends meet.
The autumn sun slides low
against the hours,
peaking over the day
as if barely begun
and almost finished.
There is something familiar
here in the half light,
not quite vertical yet
bright enough to see
the path I ride is not as rough,
the wind is not as strong
and my heart is not as hard
as days since passed
where in hind-sight
I peddled for sanctuary;
a morbid kind of half-sight
held tight by a half-life of
loneliness and lies
now long lost
and finally made right.
I can fly, standing, my
back erect, I can fly, holding
my arms aloft, I can
fly, speeding down the hill, I
can fly, swerving around cars.
I fly, dancing with death and
courting danger, I fly, laughing
loudly at my fear, I fly,
relishing the near-misses and almost-
impact of tragedy, I fly, I
spin, I wheel, I turn, I
soar, (I escape
edited February 10, 2014
It's well past midnight but you're still on the road
Joints stiff from bending over the handlebars
The wind's been in your bones for such a long time
You can't even remember when you got on
The hard asphalt road stretches on forever
Streetlights, neon signs and glaring windows whizz by
One by one, like the all people in your life
Every one so different and yet all the same
The only steady sound is your pumping heart
And the low whirring of well-oiled chain and gears
For each push of the pedal beneath bare feet
The other one rises inexorably
Troubles that seem to never stay down for long
Beads of sweat form endlessly on your forehead
They enter your eyes but never reach your cheeks
Reduced to just a little salt by the wind
You're reminded of reasons to be happy
That disappear before you finish thinking
And leave your eyes with a stinging sensation
It feels like there's something stuck deep down your throat
You can't dislodge it with your exhalations
It won't go down however hard you swallow
Perched on the cold metal frame, chasing the moon
It feels less like you're trying to run away
Bicycles and icicles remind me of you.
Cold winter nights
just with the thought of
You send my mind
round and round,
while you peddle to find solid ground.
Bicycles and icicles don't go well together,
neither do you or me.
But that wont keep me from thinking of you.
Real learning we
a red bicycle..
We soon find
and peace disturbed..
Red reminds us
each difference relates
to other differences..
Relating is unifying
bringing the peace
Red turns Blue...
Freedom is a bicycle
she wears her name with pride
she picked you up and fixed you
on the days you fell and cried
she taught you things you thought you knew
and she reminded you of love
and on the days you fell and cried
she flew and took you high above.
ecstatic visions from the mountain top
around the bend a lake
a forest of ferns and trees so green
she startles you awake