"bicycle" poems
Never what you were,
my retina dulled your rays.
Optics adrift in poetry, prose,
charity shop sweaters.
I spoke of dreamed ambition.
You nodded, morose.
Eyes chasing space.
Never what you were.
Bookshelves, potted plants, a bicycle bell ringing.
Coffee steam clawing New Zealand winds.
This and more flickered in our hazed tethering,
only snuffed when the tap of illusion ran cold.
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 7:38 PM UTC
We embarked upon a titanic voyage to a new world.
It’s said that behind every great man there's a great woman; But a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.
7 bells rang late that night, as our ship stuck fast; between the devil and the deep blue sea.
Fingers frantic! tapping code…—-…
Sailors quickly battened down the hatches and stowed away the Riff-raff, for they knew fine words would butter no parsnips, Better here than there in third class.
Some fiddlers on the deck played “Nearer My God to Thee", As the bubbles rose from beneath the sea, come buckle down boys for the devils to pay, come hell or high water he’ll have his pay.
Mothers row, land lubbers row, it's time to leave this god forsaken place. pulling hard for freedom.
Ten steel decks split and snap, as they join the ***** and hundreds either shriek or pray; as La dolce vita slowly ebbed away.
Mercifully the cacophony descends ever silent, as fifteen hundred souls become neither fish nor flesh, rotting from the head down.
Save our souls •••- - - •••. … — …
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 4:15 PM UTC
Hey there nephew, you're precious to me,
You're only six and life is yet to be,
But here let me tell you a thing or two,
I want you to live it before you get here too
Your world is small but your mind is free,
Ride that bicycle all you can on the street,
Hit that ball as far as the eye can see,
Slow the world down and be an athlete
Let your mommy give you kisses you need,
Cry and hug her when your fingers bleed,
Her laps are the best pillow indeed,
She will always love you, that is guaranteed
Your dad is going to be your best hero,
He will protect you today and tomorrow,
I too love you a little too much,
Somehow it can heal me, your touch
You too will someday love someone,
Kiss her lips and touch the sun,
Love her heart with all your soul,
Pity, impermanence is something you can't control
You are young and still have a lot to learn,
When you get to my age one or two things you really love,
No there kid I don't mean to make you cry,
When it gets hard just give it one more try
You see, all these things I too had once,
I see you and I see a piece of me,
Life is long and life is short,
You make me relive my memories
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 3:09 PM UTC
Axels and chains and
Feet and brains
It's the bicycle beats
And the trees and the streets
Join the lines in the sidewalk
As I ride and I talk
To myself,
"Breathe in," &
"Breathe out," --
Burning and churning to the
Grooves and the cracks
Red light's the only chance to relax
Racing the bus and flashing a grin
To the sorry folks trapping themselves therein
Ecstasy building with each revolution
Wiping my sweat away, tasting pollution
Grinding and winding a path on my bike
Where cars and pedestrians hate me alike
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
Bicycle, Bicycle
Turning the pedal
Some are made of metal
But not the pedal
Some are made of steel
But not the wheel
None are made with plastic
It's not elastic
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 9:59 PM UTC
He wears a Beanie
Aviator Sunglasses
Stumble over wheels
Look
Eye contact
I smile
You blow a kiss
I want to wink
I don't
I smile
I like you
I'll never see you again
Bicycle boy.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC
I.
“No doubt they’ll sing in tune after the Revolution.”
-Kamarovsky, Doctor Zhivago (film)
Everyone seems to clench his fist these days
In solidarity with ephemera
While setting fire to green recycling bins
Hurling someone else’s bicycle through a window
Armed with their undergraduate degrees
The comrades liberate a coffee shop
Wifi-ing the revolution of the day
Empowerment by beating love to death
Loudsplaining authentic victimization
Posing for selfies with a stolen ‘phone
II.
Their inhumanity seemed a marvel of class-consciousness, their barbarism a model of proletarian firmness…
-Doctor Zhivago, p. 349
Everyone seems to clutch his flag these days
In solidarity with a past that wasn’t
While setting fire to misspelled cardboard signs
Hurling someone else’s beer into a crowd
Armed with their lurid Confederate tats
The Something.Right liberate a dumpster
Bull-horning the counter-revolution
Empowerment by beating love to death
Bellowing their Reconquista of stench
Posing behind their cheap gas station shades
III.
“I used to admire your poetry...I shouldn't admire it now. I should find it absurdly personal. Don't you agree? Feelings, insights, affections... it's suddenly trivial now. You don't agree; you're wrong. The personal life is dead…”
-Strelnikov to Yuri, Doctor Zhivago (film)
Some few embrace civilization these days
In solidarity with humanity
While lighting one small candle as a votive
Whispering an Ave into the Light
Armed with wonder through pen and flute and brush
Recusants choose the liberation given
In singing of the eternal verities
Self-empowerment happily denied
With love, with poetry, music, and art
Celebrating life on this summer day
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 5:09 PM UTC
We've had a turbulent journey together
And as he pushed the bike, slowly did his hand release me
Riding the crashing waves I admit my struggle
And my childish naivety gave passage to worser threats
Yet still he stands there, waving me on my way
Even to this day, despite questionable confidences, I still turn
And still he stands there
A rebel I didn't mean to be, but I am cursed with escalating emotions
Or maybe he would say a blessing, to empathize and find strength
As memories haunt me at night, teaming with those of ill will
The sensitivity he passed on to me prevails, Innocently I am slowed
But my wheels continue turning, and my heart stays true
Though my eyes and ears remain obstructed, my heart makes a turn
And yes, he still stands there
His presence unpurposefully commands attention
And his knowledge, he gives without catch
I understand the wars he must encounter, and yet he stays calm
Giving peace to the tide, he offers nothing, but gives everything
I unconditionally love him
I honestly hold respect for him,
He indirectly teaches me
And fuels me with his love
In this moment, I turn back, not for fear of falling,
But to wave back to the man who let me go
He is no longer there, standing firm in his spot
No
My friend, my father, he rides by my side.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
I don't know how to ride a bicycle
So you grabbed the bike and showed me how
But I didn't quite understand how you did it
So you let me ride it while holding the backside
I pedalled slowly at first, then gradually faster
Until the breeze hits my face and I've got smile on my lips
At last, I thought, I learned how to ride it
Then I looked behind and saw the view
You're not holding it anymore, you're faraway from me
I'm far from you, and you waved goodbye
So, I turned towards north and pedalled some more
At last, I thought, I learned how to ride the bicycle.
I didn't know how to ride a bicycle
But you taught me how, so I turned towards north, and pedalled some more.
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 11:12 PM UTC
the cool wind in my hair
as you and I glide across
the cement jungle.
You make my life tolerable
in this crazy urban landscape,
my trusty metal steed that
helps me duck and weave in
stand still traffic of the Nation's capital.
nothing like flying through the city on you, my bicycle,
on this beautiful spring day. I know you can't speak,
but if you could, you would also say "wheeeeee" with glee.
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
If you want to see the country side,
You could use any mode that you choose.
What better way than a bicycle ride?
No need to hurry and miss all the views.
Side by side you could ride on your way.
But, there is just something missing when you do.
For a leisurely romantic day,
may I recommend a bicycle built for two.
Aug 5, 2010
Aug 5, 2010 at 8:39 PM UTC
the clay patio was baking
just hot
enough for the dough to rise and crisp
and for you to spread your blanket
in the sun
perfect for a picnic with the kids
and observing the man on that really tall bicycle
it’s times like these when you think
why doesn’t everyone just shut off
and bake in the sun
with a glass of peach tea and a pair
of well behaved kids
who share life like it was their job to love
each other
their mother
dad
and especially
the old dog
even the young lovers get jealous
as their gaze from the park to
your front patio
witnessing that there is something more to love
than just body heat
chocolate-dipped strawberries
and jazz clubs
that children grow like spinach flowers
in mellow
medallion
heat
until the training wheels come off
and they feel earth’s balance for the first time
and the peaches!
they shackle the branches
like juicy bombs
and you decide that
mothers are like fruit
unbruised
unwashed
and perfect
something that God
herself
keeps in her finest
crystal bowl and replants
in the summer
mother
sister
friend
shoot me some of that peach tea
you’re drinking
that sun you are soaking
that air you are breathing
the world needs more of you
and you deserve the last taste
of its summer light
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
i've forgotten
the painful, unexpected blow
of the harsh truth
that you're fading out
of someone's life
like an old rusty bicycle
that's full of memories
from your childhood,
left alone, forgotten
in the attic
when you got a new one.
your life is evolving without me
you're gaining
a lot of expensive vehicles
by losing
a lonely broken bicycle.
i guess my world stopped
when you left,
and your world started
the second i am gone.
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
There once was a man
Whose livelihood was rubber.
He worked long and hard; and wore a tan,
He was a plantation tapper.
One night he packed,
In haste after a long day of toil.
Quickly had his belongings all sacked
Under light from a lantern that reeked of kerosene oil.
He was ready, flame from the lantern he did ****
Overhead, the midnight moon brightly shone.
Bound his sack to the rack above the rear wheel,
Mounted his bicycle and soon he was gone.
The dirt trail leading back,
Undulating with gravel all strewn.
Almost treacherous this forgotten track
He only relied on light from the moon.
The air was cool just like any other,
But something was different about this night.
Squinting ahead he spotted a figure.
Flagging him down was a lady in white...
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 10:38 PM UTC
Hovering
Delicately
Gently
Floating above the earth
Calming
Cleansing
A man
In black suit
With briefcase
Walks
Proudly through
A bicycle
A footbridge
All in this moment
Of beauty
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 11:26 AM UTC
*She’s riding her bike
the wind’s on her cheeks
and hair
She’s got no worries
no care, cause she’s
riding easy on her bike*
Rachel comes on her bicycle
down the street and
she sways with a smile;
she can go steady or she
can show off, as she pleases,
on her happiness bike
off her bicycle
she loses her smile
she frowns, she does not talk
but O -
she’s a goddess, she’s Venus
she’s all radiance
when she’s on happiness bike
she’s in her red top today:
her ******* decent
but talkative;
her *** is composed -
and O, as always
Rachel is glowing
on her happiness bicycle
we know it all:
angels come on bicycles now
*She’s riding her bike
the wind’s on her cheeks
and hair
She’s got no worries
no care, cause she’s
riding easy on her bike*
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
I guess an old bicycle is like an old wife
they both get tired and worn
and they both lose their luster
Wait!
I could never toss out of my old bike
I guess they are not similar at all!
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:17 PM UTC
#071816 #3:50PM #Rob
Ipapadyak kanilang mga paa
Walang lihim na ngiti,
Tapat lamang at tunay ang pagbahagi.
Siyang may kulay ang mga pisngi
Kaya't hindi sawi ang pagsaboy ng kahulugan.
Hinayaan nilang umagos nang kusa
Kahit napapagal ang tila may lakas na katauhan.
Hindi matatawaran
Ang pagsuyo ng tunay na galak
At sa kabila ng kanilang kamusmusan,
Alam na alam nilang ito'y tiyak.
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 7:34 AM UTC
I remember...
I was sad because I could only afford four textbooks out of five
Until the best student dropped out of school due to lack of tuition
I was upset because I wasn't served dessert
Until I saw a starving man
I complained my car was manual transmission
Until I saw a guy wishing for a used bicycle
I always wished for a bigger bed
Until I saw a man sleeping on the street
I was demotivated because my job wasn't paying well
Until I saw unemployment rate in other countries
I was ****** with myself when I dislocated my ankle
Until I saw someone without legs
It's definitely good to admire better things but
Appreciate what you have
Because somebody wants just that!
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC
He almost let out a sigh of dismay,
Knowing this stint would be short lived.
The common sense in his head seemed to say,
"No one could be this lucky, don't have yourself deceived".
His wheels wobbled and shook; squeaked and wailed,
Under the collective weight of the two.
Screaming threats from worn bearings that ailed,
He did not want to appear weak so his legs pummelled on through.
The ease of cycling was only temporary
He pedalled harder to gain more speed.
Then the ground began to slope gently
His lungs felt like bursting as he pounded his iron steed.
The journey uphill had been more laborious than he had expected.
All the while, the beauty hadn't uttered a single word.
His mind had drifted off even though he was worn and ragged,
The thought of emerging as a couple seemed less than absurd.
The crest of the hill was a cool, long anticipated welcome.
He could finally ease up on the pedalling.
The view from there was nothing short of handsome,
The downhill would take charge and he could catch up on his breathing.
The wind met his face and whistled itself tuneless.
The bicycle rattled as it rolled down the uneven trail.
He felt a sense of flight, there was an air of calmness,
Almost had forgotten about the quiet guest on his tail.
At the bottom he thought he should check on his passenger,
He looked ahead as he addressed the lady.
When he had expected an almost immediate answer,
No response came, despite his calls for her repeatedly.
He pedalled with little effort as if there wasn't added weight
The bicycle slowed down to a clearing where it was dim.
Fatigue was setting in as the night stretched late
His curiosity won the battle and got the better of him.
He stopped his bicycle and maintained balance with his feet,
He twisted his torso so he could speak to his fare.
The moment he did so, his heart had almost ceased to beat,
To his horror, he found that the lady was no longer there...
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 12:00 AM UTC
These vans on my feet are *****
Dripped on by the blood of a won basketball game.
Dirt covered from the many mosh pits.
Torn on from my longboard grip.
Rubber grey from long walks.
Bled through tie die from lots of running
Brown stains from standing in the woods
Broken eyelets from a forgotten drunk night.
Missing shoelace caught in a bicycle wheel.
Only to be replaced.
Just like my love.
Like my summer.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 10:19 PM UTC
The new day still saw the man
Whose livelihood was rubber.
He had worked really hard; earning his darkened tan,
He was the plantation's tapper.
The evening sun had long set
Leaving the plantation in a shroud of darkness.
Relying on what little light the moon would let.
He treaded carefully; sidestepping potholes and jutting buttress.
His sack slung over one shoulder,
He found his way to his trusty ride.
Nightly routine he would execute over and over
Mounted his bicycle and rode off with the moon as guide.
All day long, he had been thinking of the night before.
He had then learnt that he was the target of a ghostly trick.
As he cycled, he got worked up, more and more...
He cursed the spirit who had made him the fool so quick!
As he looked ahead, straining his eyes to discern the sandy track.
His eyes caught something that came within sight.
Standing by the side against a background of black.
There she was again...all garbed in white...
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
Tell me about
your bicycle lights,
do they shine?
like embers in the
dark of night
or are they faded?
like far away stars
who omit some days
that they are there.
forget your bike.
I'll come find you.
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 8:28 AM UTC
I've been ignored and sidelined.
Denied freedom of expression.
Due to poverty, I was laughed at.
I was hurt, broken, and fought against.
Like a bicycle, I kept my balance to keep moving.
Then I won.
I’M THE STONE THE BUILDER REFUSED who’s………..
Passion didn’t come without suffering.
I strived not to be noticed.
I strived for my absence to be felt.
My intention wasn’t waiting for the storm to pass.
The intention was to dance in the rain.
Kneeling before God gave him ability to stand before anyone.
I’M THE STONE THE BUILDER REFUSED whom against all odds:
Forge without questioning.
Loved without condition.
Cared for people without expectations.
Gave without any sparing.
Shared without pretending.
I'm the same stone that turned to be the corner stone.
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 3:01 PM UTC