Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jenish 1d
rider bridled wave
carving through the curving crown -
ebullient sea smiled
There's something about the rumbling sound beneath our feet in the summers heat and the smell of exhaust covering our leather jackets and jeans.
I want to take my beauty and ride her from day until dawn.
I want to take her on adventures that we never seen before to make our ride as magical as it should seem.
When your with me, i feel free, because you're my stallion, my black beauty Queen.
The virago roars and runs beneath my ***, as my hair dances in the wind to the sound of my bikes heart beat matching to mine when adrenaline's meet.
She's loud, dark and fun.
So exciting, all the places that me and you can see.
Let's ride into the sunset, where our heaven meets and it's just me, you and my black beauty.
Me, and my motorcycle Black Beauty.
Memories of this lady never leave my mind.
she wasn't a rider, but acted better than one,
riding high above many hurdles in life...fear
never took her away from her responsibilities...

when the fuse in the main switch gave
way, and dimmed the old house, this lady
braved the dark...armed with a flashlight
and pliers, she replaced the burnt fuse with
a new one and brought light back.....each
time the old-fashioned flat iron overheated,
she easily replaced the glass-like insulator  
inside, so it could right away be used again...

whatever needed repair---garment, tools,
the fence, the house...ripped, or with holes,
she mended and patched...even blind-hemmed
a torn relationship once...yes, she mended
cracks...was always in the midst of broken
vases, gluing pieces back together, so she
may put water and lovely flowers in it...

nothing was impossible for this gentle lady...
she moved mountains for her loved ones,
always persevering and ingenious, life
became less difficult...she painted their
young minds with a mix of hues,
so they may appreciate and be
grateful for rainbows and yellow sunrises,
learn to accept black, gray, unhappy moments,
and be thrilled by fiery orange sunsets....

this lady is indispensable...and irreplaceable,
SHE, and others like her, are called mama,
muter, mom, mum, majka, inay/nanay, mae,
matka, madre, mom....ahh, the list is long...


Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May, 8, 2020
(SHE... was our late mama.)

"Now, shall we begin the experiment?"
The future is uncertain
But I know there is one
And with my own hands
I will build a new world
With strength and kindness
And even if the truth is bleak
That there truly is no future
I still won't back down
I will Be The One!
If there is nothing
Then I will just Build something!
I won't give up to save
Tomorrow's Earth
I will Be The Light
That smashes through
The walls of hatred
The fortresses of ignorance
I will shine a new path
I will help others
Build and rebuild
I may be false
But others will be heroes
In my name
I will not be alone
I will find my Best Match
And together
We will protect what's important!
I will rise and rebuild
As many times as necessary
This is my legacy
The legacy I build!
"The rules of victory has been set!"
Raise a glass of freedom
Toast the changes coming
Listen to the future
It's roaring in, not humming

A voice lost to the ether
Told us 50 years ago
Raise a glass of freedom
Now, it is his time to go

The name, it doesn't matter
You know of the man I speak
His words forever with us
The man, was never weak

His name is one of legends
First his father, and his sis
But, he didn't hang upon it
His choices were all his

So, Raise A Glass of Freedom
Let it echo in the halls
Toast now to Peter Fonda
And grab life by the *****
MJL Feb 2019
Everyones chillin’
Groovin' tunes rollin’
Lowriders cruisin’
Then your loud *** comes along
Takin’ up space
Yours and mine
Wreckin’ smooth
Pushin’ your own groove
"Donk in charge"
No votes necessary
Everythin’ sighs
Bubble on the mic
Doin’ your business
All over the room
Box store cut-*** mule
Nothin’ but unwoke noise
Blow Bull Horn

© 2019 MJL
Car lovers. Lowrider lingo. Rude people are rude.
Have you seen the news?
Then you've missed the point.
Seek and you shall find..
mark john junor Oct 2017
the horse racing to greet dawn
coated in sweat cold winter night
chases his riders desperation into the pathless night
chases his kindred's dream
to fly across the trackless predawn light
to be swifter than the wind
to be as effortless as the burning sun
to be as fast as dreams

pushing himself
he knows his rider must flee
knows the men with knives give chase
know he will perish with this rider
if he does not reach the dawn before them
if he does not ****** destiny from them that chase
pushing harder and harder
mile and another mile, another mile

his thoughts are for the lazy pasture
that he calls home
for the dance of sun and hooves
the cool cool water on a hot day
the sweet taste of fresh oat and meal
his mare beside him
the colt they had borne
his warm home so many miles behind

now he races along the
breaking edge of dawn
each stride his weariness ties to master him
yet his riders desperation pushes him onward
now he races against his mortal endurance
now he races against his dying breath

the men with knives seem immortal
they draw ever closer
the danger of them grasps at his every stride
the horror of them breaths on his tail
now he races against his mortal endurance

beyond any thought but to flee
as the dawn breaks, he slips into darkness
stumbling he fights his way forward
fighting to take another stride
rider and fear forgotten now
as he falls to the cold earth
but his spirit runs faster than wind
but his spirt swifter than dreams
his spirit free now
to a forever pasture of peace and sun
a horse will run itself to death for the love of its rider
Tim S Aug 2016
There was a time I felt infinite.
Maybe it was the summer sun,
the laughter, or the innocence.
It could have been the quasi starry nights shared with the ocean.
Those times were momentary sips of grace.

Their beauty culminated into you.
You wouldn't know this,
but I never took the chance to tell you.
Time stood still,
You and I were infinite.

As I stand here under another quasi starry evening,
I no longer feel infinite.
But I can feel you linger,
In my mind, body, and soul.

Those stand still frames of infinity cannot be retraced,
But if that cannot be again my reality,
What would it take to get another sip of momentary grace?
This was inspired by the poem Rider Strong wrote for his character, Shawn Hunter, on Boy Meets World. I decided to make it about an ex-girlfriend of mine.
Next page