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While I was enjoying my bicycle ride, It started drizzling and I felt happy, then it stopped.

Suddenly it started pouring rain and I felt excitement and comfort rush over me when I remembered my childhood.

The sweet memory of playing under the rain and waiting to get in trouble with my beloved mother felt like a precious gift.

Hussein Dekmak
"I'm in a free-falling world where darkness and light, happiness and misery, loneliness and togetherness, holiness and sin, joy and death, life and destruction are all one, boundaries and borders are obliterated.
Everything is an endless wonder and mundanely boring.
Reality is abstract, and the abstract world is splashing cold water in your face.
I'm in the darkness and it's cosy as ****.
Help me, I've never been happier and it's the most nightmarish feeling of my life."
This was an entry from my diary one night while I was listening to Jazz by Queen. I wonder what I was on, this is very strange and abstract. I think it's the musics fault (or to put it simply: blame it on the boogie).
Can't decide what to play with today.
There are my colouring books and pencils.
I could also find my drawing pad
and use a ruler and some stencils.

I have my Legos and my cars,
and lots of other shiny toys,
but my mum sends me out
to join the other little boys.

It's a beautiful day, she says,
you should be in fresh air,
yet too young for school you are
no need to worry or even care.

I meet Timmy, my friend down the lane.
He shows me his bicycle with considerable pride.
It's new, he says, with bell, brakes and all.
I ask him if I could learn to ride.

Of course, he says, hop on and I'll push.
I follow his instructions - tightly grip the handlebar
and speed away without a plan of further action,
when along comes roaring an enormous motorcar.

Please make it stop, I scream. But Timmy is not there.
So just before the tragic but inevitable demise,
a miracle occurs, I wake up in bed safely,
all grown up and full of surprise.
That day
one I will never forget
my brother set me free
he let me fly like the wind

he removed the training wheels of my life
and set me in motion
that day I found the joy of
two wheels and the wind in my hair

now old age creeps up upon me
but I still have two wheels and the wind
I still fly
my brother set me free
let me fly like the wind

poetry ©2021 Mark Junor
Water Street
After the rain
Is where wayward teens
Ride their bicycles
On damp pavement
Under staggered lamps,
I never knew,
Before seeing from the 2nd floor
That 2am
Is when lost youth roam.
I have friends in High Places,
good friends
tripping *****
floating atop mushroom clouds of ecstasy
Naked,
in otherworldly dimensions
pioneering the mental landscape,
explorers of the mind and soul
bodies,
breaking free of the Iron Cage
living to Love
working only to get by
getting high
to escape
to a place
where mere existence
makes sense.
In honor of Bicycle Day. And inspired by the poetic ramblings of Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac.

© 04/19/21 Rebecca Brenes All Rights Reserved
Jaicob Apr 11
"Get out,"
I was told.
"Leave my sight"
I packed a bag.
"Just leave"
I rode off.
"Come back"
I was chased.
"I love you"
My bike was taken.
"You can't leave"
I'm crying.
Your arms hold no comfort for me.
My parents say they love me... Is love chasing somebody away from their home and taking their bike?
sergiodib Mar 16
Cycling, without haste,
Along narrow country roads.
On the edge, undisturbed waste.

Riding, alongside ancient springs
That hatch dry stones and tires.
In his nest of tear strips a blackbird sings.

Eventually, I get to the point of no return.
Where past and future merge.
And no more does the sun burn.
afterthepeak.eu
LiLMiSSHoTRoD Oct 2020
I've fought myself
with my every thought
now there's no doubt
I killed the thing that I fought

I studied the maps
my lies that I bought
I set a lot of traps
it was only me that I caught

swallowed my pride
I was doing as I taught
I looked deep inside
I found the monster that I sought
Jack Radbourne Oct 2020
A wobble waiting in the shed
A bequeathal from Victorian comedians
A test of youthful instability
A trial by tarmac

An unyielding seat with changing views
A wetter way of travelling through rain
A soundless nemesis for pensioners
A tin-tack gathering machine

A complexity in ambulation
A tool used by the mad or desperate
A ticking mockery of balance
A frame for shaming the unfit

A creaking snail on hills
A public declaration of pretence or poverty
An undignified arrival
And a bait for thieves
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