nightfall awoken by lit lanterns
passing the artery of hopelessness
going by thru diverse passersby yard
all and sundry yon has their souls
never acknowledged.. remains tranquil
paths of untold concrete buildings
tied up to subsiding ground of dolor
determine their everlasting ailment
agile, like a hummingbird, i flow
a graph of functions to drive by
reconcile with the ailing truth
gleaming concern was never examined
i don't discern anything besides myself
i see nothing, like a light of speed
i'm roaming to nowhere, unfamiliar places
yet extant, become subtend with one another
Cool enough to stay dry
Warm enough for a t-shirt
Fingernail moon in the open sky
Fragrant woods like free myrrh
Time stands still
But goes by fast
Lost on the way
But we made it back
Gentle like a lullaby before bed
I wear a helmet on my heart
And a mask on my head
But an evening ride
Rolls the truth out straight
Puts it all in place
Life is not a race
It's a song and a dance
And a face
Life is a bike ride
At the end of the day
That sums it up
It's all gonna be okay
Falling off a bike is like breaking your heart for the first time
You don't know this strange pain that's hitting you in your knees or your chest
And it hurts but you don't know this feeling creeping inside your body and making you numb with pain
There's tears because you can't understand why something so simple could hurt so bad
It's a shame because you have to go through it over and over again
You'd ride the bike again but you'd give up on love
One hurts just a little bit too much
Knee pads won't save you from the eternity of pain because you decided to fall in love
Cycling to work
Brilliant way to get fit
Hmmm..I prefer car
A fine young guy by the name of Mike
Used to peddle a butchers bike
If you needed a tasty treat
Mike turned up with a basket of meat
And if you fancied a bacon roll
Or a bowl of toad in the hole
Mike delivered around the clock
So it all came as quite a shock
When he said he'd enough
And he was thinking of doing other stuff
Standing there with hands on hips
He handed in his trouser clips
"I'm moving on to pastures new
And going to work for Deliveroo"
The butcher's wife couldn't believe her ears
And burst out into floods of tears
"What would it take to make you stay?"
"Any price I'd gladly pay?"
The butcher was surprised at this
And said "Bridget are you taking the piss?"
But Bridget only had eyes for Mike
And the pair sped off on the butchers bike.
I wish I could go bike riding with a girl,
I wish I knew how to ride a bike...
or how to perfectly apply lipstick in a way
that looked natural.
There's something about long hair and rural roads,
leaves ruffled along the dusted trail,
perfect petals proud in the wind.
I want it all.
That perfect song during a midnight wander,
the taste of fresh oxygen on my tongue.
The feeling of two eyes locked on mine
hands so soft, fingers unbelievably smooth.
I guess there's more that will come this way,
an imaginable feeling felt only today.
No age limit.
Don't care if it's a hipster fad.
I Loved you far before the world.
Simplicity of my legs.
Yet so much power behind these things.
You make me throw my OCD needing to rhyme and flow completely out the window.
Well... Sort of.
And yeah, it bugs me that I'm now writing in complete sentences, but I don't even care anymore.
I care about my bike.
And the beauty that it brings to the world.
A child's laugh is heard
Early one morning in May;
Along with the chains of a bike;
Ringing their song,
Harmonizing with rubber tires,
Humming against the street.
Alert as a bird,
The child rides away;
In a day so dreamlike,
And sings along,
With voice like the wildfires;
Seeking a friend to meet.
The sun reflects on golden hair,
Fingers run though the chopped cut.
A youthful smile glows,
Complementing the sun, so bright.
Interrupted by the squealing of breaks.
The child stops right there;
Not so childish now, but
The now faded smile shows
That the child is alright;
Although the child aches.
The child has fallen into
The same May, accept a different year.
The bike's coated with memories and dust.
The tire's out of breath and flat,
And no song is sung.
Saddened eyes of blue
Accepts nothing but fear.
The laugh turned to rust;
And just to think that
This change has just begun.