Best On Your Bike Poems
In the beginning was the word
Before that, no noun, no thing
Then no sound was ever heard
And no passing bell would ring
So therefore no adjective was needed to describe it or deplore it
No preposition required to be positioned right before it
No verb to do something to it or say what act it was pursuing
No need for an adverb to describe how well or badly it was doing
Since not even one noun existed, conjunctions would have been redundant
There were no things to act on and to move across the face of the fundament
So the first word there had to be - was BE, and that was the very first in existence
And from Genesis and Eden to Elsinore, it has had a remarkable degree of persistence
Now, in the Oxford English Dictionary which is venerable institution
There are 171476 full entries of words (2nd edition) all capable of elocution
Of these, about one seventh are verbs, therefore there must be around 24497 give or take, to enumerate all action
And that should be enough for even the most garrulous to get some satisfaction
This is a limited calculation and I wouldn't want to be tied down to it
We can be more free in our estimates so while we are about it, we might as well do it
It seems that once BE had been exercised, the dam broke and words poured out as from a cornucopia.
And verbs would soon exist in an abundance enough to carry you from here to Ethiopia
Except in the culture of youth where it appears this multitude has been reduced to the deplorable "was like"
To them I am tempted to say: "Learn some real verbs"; OR I would employ a phrasal such as
'On-your-bike!'
The possibilities are now endless particularly if you include the phrasal
Giving us enough elan vital to at least maintain a metabolism basal
So to whoever first said BE, whether God or someone with similar propensities
though another name or description:
I say Well done! I couldn't in my wildest dreams with a wish to create a rich life and culture,
have produced a better prescription
The first word there had to be - was BE, and that was the very first in existence
And from Genesis and Eden to Elsinore, it has had a remarkable degree of persistence
It seems that once BE had been exercised, the dam broke and words poured out as from a cornucopia.
And verbs would soon exist in an abundance enough to carry you from here to Ethiopia
Except in the culture of youth where it appears this multitude has been reduced to the deplorable "was like"
To them I am tempted to say: "Learn some real verbs"; OR I would employ a phrasal such as
'On-your-bike!'
The possibilities are now endless particularly if you include the phrasal
Giving us enough elan vital to at least maintain a metabolism basal
So to whoever first said BE, whether God or someone with similar propensities
though another name or description:
I say Well done! I couldn't in my wildest dreams with a wish to create a rich life and culture,
have produced a better prescription
20 August 2019
1) Find a broom, then go to your room, and give it a good sweep.
2) Lie on the couch, when Mom’s a grouch, and pretend that you’re asleep.
3) Take a ride on your bike, or take a hike, and best leave the grownup alone.
4) Empty the trash (but don’t ask for cash) when Dad his top has blown.
5) Call a friend on whom you depend, then go outside and play tag.
6) Find a four-leave clover, plan your next sleep over, throw a stick that your dog
can shag.
7) Taking a look at a few picture books might pass the time of day.
8) Be cute as a bug, and offer a hug in a roundabout sort of a way.
9) Though grownup’s tics are not all yours to fix, you can always sing a song.
10) And remember that grouchy grownups don't often stay grouchy for long.
Sue got wedged on the exercise bike
And she doesn’t look so lady like
With both legs akimbo
She looked like a bimbo
Told the trainer to go take a hike!
20th July 2015
Pick & Mix
Oh Frank. W. Woolworths what have you done,
You have taken away all of the fun.
Buying the traditional Pick & Mix,
Was a yearly ritual like the turkey and stuffing mix,
Trying to cram as many as you could
Into the large cardboard tub.
Trying to be canny
and fill every nook and cranny,
Toffees, chocs, jellies, dolly mixtures, shrimps & white mice,
They all tasted really nice.
It only cost £2 99 for the lot
It was up to you how many you got,
Now it is to be no more
Having asked at several of your stores.
Gone now is the tub you could fill with as many as you like.
It’s A bag and weigh & pay, and on your bike.
Oh Frank. W. Woolworths what have you done,
You have taken away all of the fun.
Ah be careful, so careful my friends
be careful before you go getting involved
Isn’t it strange how we sometimes get swept up
swept and sucked into a life event by sheer chance?
After attending to the baby, I glanced to my right
and spotted something in the median grass
Closer now, my stomach churning again
A young Latino man laying on his side
breathing fast and shallow, obviously in shock
coughing up blood with little clumps in it...
A biker and his girlfriend had stopped
We called out to him, ”You okay? Hey, you okay?”
(Yeah sure guys, just thought I'd catch a few winks)
The next person to stop was an off-duty ER nurse
(Stay here with him while I check on the others
and whatever you do, DON’T try to move him!)
”Oh sh-t! I forgot, has anyone called 911 yet?”
(I called, said a man in an orange jump suit)
Rush hour traffic was starting to back up on both sides
I would guess at least twenty minutes had passed...
The young highway patrolman was calm and relaxed
“Is an ambulance coming?” He nodded and pointed...
At least a half mile away we saw the flashing lights
but the median bank was too steep to drive down
(You two are going to have to help me with the traffic
Divert everyone out of the left, northbound lane)
Absolute chaos...
Some drivers got confused and stopped
The biker and I started waving and shouting
which of course, only made matters worse
One grouchy old fart laid on his horn and cussed
(We flipped him a sign that had little to do with peace)
45 minutes and counting...
The ambulance had to park on the shoulder
Two sweating, rather nervous looking ladies
rushed to the back and pulled out a stretcher
(Would you two gentleman mind giving us a hand?)
They immediately escorted us to the young man,
took out a weird contraption with a tube and a bulb
and inserted the tube end down his throat into his stomach
(Find something to put under his head while you pump!)
“You got anything on your bike?” (Uh-uh, don’t think so)
My wife’s blue denim jacket was laying in the back seat
“Sh-t! I’m gonna RUIN the damn thing! Oh well...”
We took turns pumping. I kept turning my head away
(You okay bro?) “Just a little queasy” (Yeah, me too...)
Tell me why is it opinions
Differ Throughout all mankind?
Why is a general consensus
Never quite clearly defined?
Why do we need to put borders
To mark nationalities land?
If such a thing is important
Why is immigration not banned?
Why is it our politicians
Waffle each night on the news
That Britain is most democratic
Whilst simply ignoring our views?
Why does our Great British nation
Known as a sovereign state
Have it’s laws overruled by Strasbourg
Without any public debate?
Why is it that all our judges
Have opinions that to us seem lax?
Giving less of a sentence to villains
Than for failing to pay the poll tax
Why should we really consider
The ethnic minority view?
In the land they originally come from
I doubt they’d take notice of you
Why do we put up with do-gooders
Preaching to us of PC?
English is our national language
And England is supposed to be free
Why should we bother with travellers
Camping wherever they like?
If they camped in Buckingham Palace
They’d soon be told "Get on your bike"
What is all this human rights nonsense?
It’s a load of old self righteous crap
Law breakers locked in the slammer
And naughty kids given a slap
What’s so good about toleration?
Why are we so prissy and trite?
We should ignore other’s lands indignation
And "Pull the ladder up Jack I’m all right".
It was a cute explosion, an anomaly,
Something the press would like:
My puppy and you locked in an embrace
On your bike.
But my fame as a poet had grown too much,
We weren’t rhyming anymore, you and me:
I blamed our hormones; you, you blamed my
Obsession with death and alliteration
And like a million others, I wondered;
Who gets the puppy?
yes I did it! my sister hates me now
it wasnt mine, but used it anyhow
Rode it to the park raced it with boys I knew
towards the park gates, went over not through
sorry I bent the fork on your bike
I took it to the repairer who said "never again be right"
tell you what I will do, will clean your car for a month,
hope that will stop your mood, stop you from getting the hump.
Penned 17 March 2016
Imagine if at the drop of a hat,
You could become a cartoon
Sylvester the Cat,
Chasing poor little Tweety Bird,
Perhaps it sounds absurd
Or be Fred Flintstone or his friend,
Let’s just pretend,
I was Barney or Fred’s wife Wilma,
Back in the Stone Age era,
Or I really fancy good ol’ Bugs Bunny,
Being incessantly shot at by Elmer
Fudd, I wouldn’t feel that it was
eternally funny,
‘What’s up doc’ Bugs would say,
Every moment of every single day.
And of course, the beginning of
Cartoons with Mickey Mouse,
And his girlfriend Minnie, I wonder
Did she ever become his spouse.
Unforgettable Donald Duck
Who sometimes would show pluck
But lacked finesse and polish,
And never ceased to astonish
His audience who laughed at his
Semi-intelligible speech,
But how much each
One of us looked forward to time
In front of the telly, prime
Hour for adults and children alike,
Heading home on your bike,
To not miss a second, homework
Not yet done
For now, it was all about fun.
One of my favorites for absolute sure,
Was the Mad Hatter at his tea party
At whom Alice in Wonderland
Was a guest, and experienced first-hand,
What riddles were or were not about,
For without him, there would be no story,
And this famous fable would
Have lost it’s glory.
The road runner for me was a trifle
Boring, but his ‘beep, beep’ grew on me,
I ought to agree.
I could go on forever, and mention
Many a cartoon, but time to go
To sleep like Sleeping beauty,
And be awaken each morn
By my handsome prince who pampers
Me, for he believes I earn
An amazing aroma of fresh ground coffee
And interprets my cartoon dreams,
Into romance and a kaleidoscope
Of incredible themes!
If you break your leg don’t come running to me
I’ve told you before about climbing that tree
It isn’t a playground for you to have fun
Go out in the garden and play in the sun
Or get on your bike and head out for a ride
Take it down to the beach but watch out for the tide
There’s always the park you could play on the swings
Go fishing or something there’s oodles of things
Now get down at once, I won’t tell you again
You’re ever so naughty, you’re being a pain
Please do as you’re told and stop being a bore
Well! I really don’t know what I married you for
Pop down to the shops Son
I need some bits and bobs
Just a few potatoes
And a dozen crusty cobs
While you’re there, you might as well
Get carrots and some greens
Some frozen peas, some sugar
And a tin of Heinz baked beans
Some tea, I think we need some
Minced beef for shepherds pie
A pound of cheese, the Leicester
We’ll give that one a try
We haven’t any biscuits
You know the ones I like
Only get two packets, mind
Be careful on your bike
When you get back I’ll do some
Bread and dripping for your tea
A slice of bread and scrape for you
And sausages for me
© John W Fenn 03-07-2009
I'm a poet
And I don't know it
My rhyme destroys
My pen is poised
To trickle out
Some tale about
A butterfly
Or sunset sky
As sweet as jam
With rhythm slam
Dunk in your tea
My soliloquy
I'm a poet
Happy to show it
So on your bike
As I drop the mic
You may have guessed
If you passed the test
As you peruse
This lyrical muse
That no comp will claim
This shot at fame
My Shakespearean blooper
Hardly 'poetry super'
When the quill is dry
Or my muse is shy
Or the peripatetic
Pen pleads "pathetic"
I turn in shame
When love's words are lame
Yet in hopeful reason
This may be the season
Of drought, no doubt
It may be a good shout
Though my lack I berate
Truth is; seasons rotate
To conclude, I am hopeful
I can re-shape the doleful
Convert all this stressin'
I'm a poet.
(no messin')
Do you know what it’s like
To be required no more,
To be put out to grass,
To be kicked out the door,
To know your work’s ended,
No more will be done,
To be slung on the tip,
Pushed aside by the young,
To be pensioned off
In an unceremonious way,
To know you’ve had yours,
Every dog has its day,
To have an appetite for work,
But be left to hunger,
To be replaced by someone
Less able but younger,
To be told you’re too old,
When you feel in your prime,
To be sent on your bike,
Before it’s your time,
To be all washed up
And flushed down the drain,
To have no physical wounds,
But still be in pain,
To feel your age,
Find you’re no Peter Pan,
To see your life going
No longer to plan,
To recall when you felt rich,
But now you feel poor,
To hear your heart slowly pumping,
Alas’ it races no more,
To experience an emptiness
That nothing will fill,
To have no medical symptoms,
But still feel ill,
To be out of control
Of your own destiny,
To be constantly asking
Why me ... why me?
The Gentle Ride
A light breeze brushed and passed me by
As I rode along the timeless scene,
I marvelled at the pellucid sky,
A light breeze brushed and passed me by.
And overhead I saw a swallow fly,
Effortless, supreme; so very serene.
A light breeze brushed and passed me by,
As I rode along the timeless scene.
On Your Bike
Shifting the steed, hammering the knee
Rainbow warrior leading the quest,
Passing by Mrs Fay Randonee
Shifting the steed, hammering the knee.
Peloton 'sham-Wahs sitting pretty,
Waiting for the ultimate test.
Shifting the steed, hammering the knee
Rainbow warrior leading the quest.
Two Wheels Gone.
On the velocipede with various speed
Sat a dandy horse astride in tweed.
Mrs Penny Farthing, her derrier aflush
Her bone shaker making her all ablush.
Some say she's as daft as a brush,
Many would say she oft dillydallied
On the velocipede with various speed
Sat a dandy horse astride in tweed.