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Bhill 2d
it's been so long since....
oh, how I long for the those days
swinging in the tree
hanging upside down on that big branch
waiting for the sun to go down so hide and go seek was more challenging
skateboarding with friends and riding our bikes for hours and hours
marbles were the rage and the Boulders were worth some attention
falling down and scraping our knees, shaking it off till we got home
spinning around so fast and furious that you got too dizzy and fell down
oh how I long for those days....
has it really been so looooooong?

Brian Hill - 2020 # 149
How long for you?
Megan Hammer Aug 2019
Carefree kids on bikes, zigzagging their way to Gross Burgers
Their mothers are hookers, methheads, and nurses
Their dads are nowhere to be found.

But they still laugh, pass around a Coca-Cola
Turn up the Kanye and anger the neighbors
Who wear beards and drive trucks with one hand on the wheel

Carefree kids on bikes, eating push-up pops from Mike’s liquor store
They all smell like green sour patch kids - sour, sweet - almost gone.
Until they smell her lilacs beckoning them home, singing their names from a purple stem

She’s our lifeline, pumping blood through us and into our hearts
Carefree kids on bikes, we’ve only got that old lady on the porch
Carefree kids on bikes, who all the moms get rid of,
Ride to the lilacs, where she quietly gives up her last Coke for one of them

And loves them all,
Without caring where they come from.
Johan Nel Jan 2019
I remember the first bike ride when I was about nine on a dirt road.
I pedalled furiously in the mud, as soon as. I opened my eyes every morning.
Some kids taught me who were supposedly family back then.

When I was on my own after I got my new bike, the adventure of the streets took over.
How much life was lived back then, in the memories of a childhood not more than average.
So much love and life was taken away from me.

Today as a man, my years melt into many and I do not understand the rushed nature of life and tim
©Johan Nel 00:32 2019.01.18
Amanda May 2018
Do you remember those nights
We laughed and talked until sleep?
With you laying by my side
I had no need for medication or sheep.

Remember the inside jokes?
The dishonest promises we made?
I do not see how you could forget,
For me the memories will not fade.

Remember all the puddles?
With bare, cold, feet our bikes we rode,
Down your drowned driveway,
At the end we slowed.

We shared our simple secrets,
Things no one else knew,
I thought you would be there for me,
Because I am always there for you.
Sometimes we expect more from others because we would be willing to do that much for them.
Sam Jan 2018
This probably isn't what they are called,
And I can't think of the elusive word,
But...I really like bike bells.

You know the ones!
The little diddlydoos on the handlebars of a ten-year-old's bike.
The ones that go
                 ­      ggggggGGGGGG!

God, they're my favorite.

Because, you's the thing:

When you were a ten-year-old,
Riding a bike to some friend's house your mom didn't approve of,
Did you ever bbBBrrIInnGG the bike bell on your bike when you were upset?

Of course not!

Bike bells are a child's way of telling the world,

"Guys! GUYS! I had a really good day!"

And it makes me happy to know some little kid is so joyful they can't help but bbBBrrRRiiIInnNNggGG all the way down the street.
olivia Jul 2017
He drives a gray Subaru

I get in the passenger seat
He turns on nirvana
I don't want to
But I can't
Help it
I begin to weep
He asks what's wrong
I can't explain
He turns it off
I thank him
Water falls from my eyes once more
I shouldn't be in this car

I should be riding my bike beside yours
Sarah Jean Ashby May 2012
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.
Madeline Killeen Jun 2017
the Cape is a place
where time stops,
and all that moves
are the waves and breezes,
bicycle wheels and boats
John Reilly Nov 2016
It starts
with a bang
A single shot
Followed by a
Of clacking
And whirring
As though
The bullet
Tore a hole
In the sky
And now
all the air
Is rushing out
******* us
With it
A spectacle
To witness
Such great pitch
And movement
A steady buzz
Fueled by
And panic
Elbows out
Until we settle
Into our rhythm
Carbon and metal
And organic
Undulating along
on the ground
Escape velocity
Hurtling along
A wall of air
The winds of
Our arrival
Surrounding us
An envelope
This new singularity
From the rest of
The universe
Until it collapses
On itself
And vanishes
The next
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