Best Pedaled Poems
Giant blowing winds like slabs of butter.
Meltdown like frozen cubes of ice.
Leaves blowing around as trees go bare.
I plant my garden of words and watch them bloom.
From the beginning of time, people spoke their thoughts.
Where words are spoken, people gather round to listen.
People have always come to listen to the songs of poetry.
Humans have always been fascinated by the power of words.
Never has there been a civilization without poetry of words.
Poetry comes from something deep inside us all, raw emotions.
Words sometimes get bloody like the dying of a red rose.
Oh, but isn't a red rose lovely even with all her thorns?
Why are some quiet, while others throw words to the winds?
Why" for others to read, find pleasure within their soft-pedaled words.
The infinite power of words rings out like heaven to me at dusk.
Like blossoms on a beautiful tree, words fall like ecstasy.
The love of words has always come so easily to me.
Confused, but, not for long as our words turn into poetry.
Words are the silver lining like piano key's, in praise of poetry.
Words to me are like beauty and strength coming together.
As we put our words together into songs of poetry.
Let us fly along with ancient dragons, and dance among the skies.
As PAN comes out to play for us, and we dance the night away.
And mingle with the stars and sing our songs to light the night.
As she breathes her last breath, it is in the form of poetry.
Abandon yourself to the moment, it will become a beautiful memory.
12:55am 4/ 5/ 2013
Categories:
pedaled, how i feel, poetry,
Form:
Blank verse
I watched it as it was born in the drenching rains of spring,
Cool condensation drops left over from winter's cold,
As it grew and grew and finally pedaled
Into a white, but, quite young rose.
As a child of youth, it swayed in spring and summer
Breezes, winds and gales, heat and cold,
Its petals enlarged and its fragrance became
A daily delight to inhale whenever bumble bees had gone.
Maturing, it grew beautifully, along with its siblings,
Arrayed upon so many branches of its home, the rose bush tree,
And provided me a diversion by its beauty from my daily
Worries and concerns - and life's hustles and bustles.
But alas, summer could not sustain itself beyond its appointed time
And began fading into fall, that time of red, yellow, brown and golden leaves,
Browning and dying tall grasses, shortening daylights and cooling evenings,
Deep into this Indian summer, onward towards winter’s cold and snows.
It gradually lost a pedal here, a pedal there, a pedal every other day
And finally had but one white pedal left which I watched fall floatingly
Down upon browned and yellowed grasses dying, leaving but its sprig
Upon its home rose tree branch in September breezes.
It had lived. It was bloomed and went through its cycle of days and months,
Sunrises, sunsets, moon sets and moon rises of silver shines,
Folks admiring its beauty and inhaling its stirring fragrances, as I had done,
And in its time succumbed to natures laws of life and death.
If it did nothing else, such as make a great discovery, climb Mt. Everest,
Win Olympic gold medals, become pope in the Vatican, it did a greater thing
In reminding me life is short; we must enjoy it now – it will be gone tomorrow
- This last white rose of summer.
W.C.Hull © 2020-23-9-772 (D)
Categories:
pedaled, flower, rose,
Form:
Ode
"I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it..." E.E. Cummings
Hello my dearest darling, it was our time to wake,
The rustic rooster had already roused my reverie,
Heralding the dewy dawn
Of our new great day.
For I could never live without you.
I yearned for your presence all the time.
Everywhere in the countryside was peace
And crowned with our steadfast love
With the sound of nurturing nature.
As I lay on our comfy broad bed,
I looked at my still-slumbering wedded wife.
Her fragrant freckled face looked on so serenely,
A soft sweet smile hovered on her luscious lips
So peaceful and fair,
As if she were amid many pleasant placid dreams
So I could not bear to wake her up and spoil
Her various favorite fantasies.
Suddenly her emerald eyes fluttered wide open,
And saw my boyish grim smiling seductively at her.
She grabbed my head and lowered me on her lips
That smell of lavish lavender filled my nostrils.
This was a harmonious heaven on earth.
Later we went down for our favorite food,
We rode our bikes and pedaled hard,
Admiring the snow-capped mountains that rose far.
Cedars, larches, and junipers adorned the steep slopes
Where eagles, kites and vultures flew
Searching for their potential prey.
Whilst on the grassy picturesque plain,
Warblers, thrushes and orioles
Twittered their serenade symphony songs.
Finally, we arrived at my Taverna
And beckoned the masterful Manager.
Heard the required report on the gains I made.
Everything was smooth
For I wear my enchanting emotions up my sleeve.
We idled the dreamy day away,
Hugging and kissing most of the time.
Partook of a delicious dinner for two,
But at closing time we went back home,
To a well-needed restful rural repose
In each other’s enticing embrace.
Placed 1st
Categories:
pedaled, love,
Form:
Alliteration
OBSESSION OF SOAPS
obsessed with the daylight hours
specifically the graven-image afternoon
like high place dungeon towers
calgon’s commercial didn’t “take me away”
but a clever string of soaps did the trick
yes ~ for three “wholesome” hours every day
like following a clever treasure map
i lived for “all my children”
Such lovely drivel and maple sap
for health’s sake visited “general hospital”
after all, i have only “one life to live”
where i delved into the incredible and impossible:
clever tales, like candles in tunnels
where danger lurks, and romance,
with abundant pleasures, funnels
stories old as time itself ~
they were my sweet craving
on a lovely built in shelf
kept me sane until they drove me insane
a drip drip of sand through an hourglass
i envisioned myself with false teeth and a cane
only when my husband and kids
began to refer to them as “my soaps”
did i realize my life on the skids,
and like a potion i’d been pedaled
did i remove the suds from my eyes
in my lightbulb-brain, it was settled!
who wants to see a gravestone:
“HERE LIES MY SPOUSE WHO LIVED FOR HER SOAPS”
7/21/2017
Contest - Obsession
*True so many years ago. I don’t watch them anymore :)
Categories:
pedaled,
Form:
Light Verse
Among the many things that sit
Forgotten in our shed,
My son’s old bicycle called out,
Just messing with my head.
I finally decided that
The time had come to see
If it could be restored enough
To get some use from me.
I dusted off the cobwebs,
Scrubbed the frame but after that,
I noticed that the tires were
Unfortunately flat.
We tossed the bike into the car
And drove to get some air.
Back home, I hopped on for a ride
Not thinking, do I dare?
With just one gear I pedaled on;
It made a clunky noise
And even though I fell (just once!)
It brought back childhood joys.
I doubt I’ll ride it very much
But when I can, I will,
As long as I don’t leave my street
And have to face a hill!
Categories:
pedaled, today,
Form:
Rhyme
Under a sun scorched sky,
I stood on the dust of your shores.
Before opening my eye,
to the wonder of your worlds.
Without perceiving the temple
I had entered to worship,
to your altar, I pedaled,
pleading case with trembled lip.
An apparition, desperately drifting.
Encircled streets, city's nightscape.
Your tangible soul tittilating, escaping.
Another dystopia loneliness can't escape.
Two nights, face pressed against glass.
A bordertown trapped in a globe of snow.
Society, thought kindred, destined to pass.
A weary seeker, yearning to be known.
Hope's candle, dwindling sliver of flame.
Dying of thirst, trapped in a well.
A treasure hunt with nothing to claim.
Plugged into electric dimension, no battery cell.
I sat alone, amongst the art,
and surrendered a grand sigh.
Designed to live a life, apart.
No community wagon drawn nigh.
And then a camel broke his back.
As it snapped, I took the straw.....
....and sucked Burning Man's marrow dry.
I didn't request respect. It was spoken.
I didn't beg for love. It was freely given.
I didn't see me as that bereft and broken.
So much imposed, self hate, unforgiven.
I screamed as we gathered to burn the token.
I wept deeply as my entire being was woken.
The pantheon I saw no longer exists.
The lessons learned are eternal.
I know where my true home subsists.
From my internal castle to your external.
I didn't come back
as a different man.
I just jumped the track.
Freedom has no plan.
I don't even need the desert.
I burn with every word.
I'm rusted forever, with playa dirt,
no matter where I'm at in default world.
-Angel Fatale-
Categories:
pedaled, art, best friend, community,
Form:
Rhyme
Riding alone along a path
that runs parallel, north and south
Alongside the Lehigh River
I became acutely aware
of the beautiful surroundings
As they sped pass me on both sides.
As I pedaled along, the ghosts
of yesteryears took possession
of my mind and began to speak
in unspoken telepathy.
“you picked wildflowers on this path;
remember the white campions
you picked for your girlfriend Alice?
And coming up on your right, there!
that very large sycamore tree
where you once climbed it, showing off
for Alice, fell and broke your arm.
Remember? Sure you do, Albee.
And there! Coming up on your left
that special place near that cove,
remember what took place in there?
You both lost your virginity.
Remember the disappointment
the two of you felt afterwards?”
Near the completion of the ride
the phantoms relinquished my thoughts
and all those recent memories
vanished until some later day.
Categories:
pedaled, nostalgia, , cute,
Form:
Verse
poetically fractured retractions
gnashing night prayers,
scribbling braille,
written sideways
dipped in holy water's resolution,
compromising statements
of disbelief's proclamation
spinning music the color
of nakedly sick psycho, yet
burnished souls keep on ticking
quarter past total trade-offs
in a spoonful of smoky reflections
sans acid's sugar trip,
anointed of rose-reddish
bloody false pretenses
dancing off center phases
in disillusioned
pirouettes of pseudo redemption,
whirling out of control on
staged tapestry's loftiness
surrendered ballet slippers
in blistered half promises,
as twisted metaphors sprightly
tuned out spun anomalies
below birds on a rusty wire tweeting
admissions' cobalt blue hazed execution,
rendered inky alterations' inquisitions
'pon pedaled pink fluff profundity,
exhaling paroxysms' jazzily engaged poesy
in vehemently enraged deliverance,
naught one is ever as they seem
through pigmented film 'neath
figment's imagined looking glass
of ingratiated delusional grandeur
Categories:
pedaled, allegory, dance, metaphor, muse,
Form:
Burlesque
I'm eight years old,
And I'm in a mess.
We have not that much money,
not even enough, to buy my sister a dress.
So think, think, think. What can I do?
I can go door to door,
And ask for a spare dime,
But, there are so many doors,
And I don't have that kind of time.
I can call Grandpa Jack,
I know he has big bucks,
But he only gives it out, to people
who are down on their luck.
I could write a letter to my Grandma Jean,
She's always been really hip to the scene!
My Dad would give me the money I bet,
But not until I worked up a good sweat!
I might come back to this one,
Depending how desperate I get.
The want ads? I wonder
if they have a job,
for me?
Yes, but, you have to be
between the ages of eighteen
and sixty-three.
This isn't working!
My sister is starting to cry.
She knows just how to work me,
I can't take it, to see a big tear in her eye.
I told her, "not to worry. I'll make it happen,
wait and see. You'll have a pink dress,
down to your knees."
So I sat down and put my head in my hands,
And I sat like that, until I came up
with a
plan.
Here's what I decided to do...
I went to my closet,
I started digging from the top.
It took forever, to get to the bottom,
the place I could stop.
I cleaned, stacked and sorted,
then priced all my stuff.
Surely, all of this would bring
more than enough!
Then I sold all the things,
that I didn't need.
By the end of the day, all the change
in my pocket, was enough money indeed!
So, down to the store,
I pedaled to quick!
So fast, in fact, I started feeling
quite sick!
I pulled from my pocket, all the cash
I'd worked for.
Then exchanged it for a pretty pink dress,
I knew my sister would adore.
Back on my bike, the dress flying behind.
All this work, all this effort!
But, could I make it back home in time?
I threw down my bike, as I caught the dress
from its flight.
Then, burst open the door, shouting
"Sis, close your eyes, tight!"
The look on her face, as I revealed
to her, the dress
Let me know as a brother, I was the best!
So I solved that problem,
Now I could relax.
There was no more stress,
over a silly old dress.
Categories:
pedaled, childrensister, me, money, sister,
Form:
Rhyme
Animals in top hats,
Ride bicycles en road,
Spoked wheels and pedaled spats,
Round about, in ornamental spode.
Animals in monocles,
Spectate in obeisance,
Cuffed by inked chronicle:
Renascence-linked complacence.
Animals in Model Ts,
Toot along en route,
To queue below burlesque marquee,
Bloating bruit by gloat and brute.
Animals in suits,
Sustained by entree manner,
Tasting morsels, cheering lutes;
To labor, bond and banner.
Animals in petticoats,
Puffed in crinoline,
Corsets sweep beneath the bloat,
Ensure the meal’s unseen.
Animals in linen,
Lain in duvets, eider down,
Sunken pelt a skin had been in,
Before its fur had come to town.
Animals in animal,
Adorned disguise of dermis,
Woven threads of blastemal,
Posture vermin with a vermis.
Animals in animals,
Piquant bones to gnaw,
Ascetic starving cannibals,
Feed on creed and law.
Animals in groups,
Extensions of the self,
Lain in egg to cracked coops,
Atop a thrifted shelf.
Instead of rounding out our edges,
To conform our shape to objects,
End the heed, the empty pledges,
Be animal: love and sex.
Categories:
pedaled, america, analogy, animal, self,
Form:
Rhyme
Just need that feeling
That same old feeling
At 10 years old
Riding my yellow
Banana seat bicycle
That sweaty afternoon
I jumped on not sure
Where I'd end up
Just needing that urge
To steer and go
Anywhere I wanted
Grabbing those handle bars
I jerked them left
Then jerked them right
Making sure it was me driving
The streamers hanging
From the rubber hand grips
Blew loud in the wind
The wind I was making
As I pedaled
And so I did pedal
Independence filling my chest
Years have passed
And I lost that feeling
The one my heart needs
To beat out my own path
That giddy stomach feeling
Of me deciding
Where I want to go
Categories:
pedaled, adventureme,
Form:
Free verse
I jumped on my bike as fast as i could
but not fast enough, it did me no good
The bully kid was big and mean and acted very tough
laughing all the while he quickly knocked me on my duff
Rubbing grass in my mouth, slapping me in the face
him laughing at me, me feeling so disgraced
He punched me so hard then left me crying on the ground
I slowly stood up, was there no one else around?
I gathered up my books and jumped on my bike
and pedaled straight home mustering all of my might
"What happened to you, son?" Mom was the first to see
I cried as I replied "i got beat by a bully!"
"I'm so sorry for you son, I'm so sad that you were harmed"
just then my dad walked in and immediately looked alarmed
Dad quickly asked me "Son, did you give him back the same?"
I sheepishly said "no" re-experiencing the shame.
Dad just stared awhile then said "I don't like what you're becoming.
Next time you better fight, give the bully what he's got coming!
First you punch him in the stomach then you hit him in the face
He won't hurt you any more, when you put him in his place!"
i slowly nodded as he left, Mom quickly gave my cheek a kiss
"I'm so proud of you son for not fighting with your fists
The Lord's servant doesn’t fight but should be gentle instead"
"Yes ma'am" i quickly said as conflicting counsel twirled round my head
The next 5 years when tensions flared i was a gentle talker
but as a bully approached my sophomore year i threw him against his locker!
Thank you Mom and Dad!
***
October 26, 2019
F T I series 9 childhood
Brian Strand, sponsor
Categories:
pedaled, 10th grade, 5th grade,
Form:
Couplet
At 1-year-old, you received your first party
First birthday cake, gorgeous and fancy
My first ever speech to the crowd
Proud as a father, I avowed
At 2 years old, with chubby cheeks
Full of motion of hands and feet
Gathered around, relatives and friends
Cheers and greetings in full length
Sickly but trying to be happy at age 3
Your condition, we lifted up to God as a plea
So much to be thankful to have you in our life
Cheering you as the capable type
Playful kid at age 4
Fond of magic, I began to explore
Magic tricks to show and made you wonder
At the end of my show, revealed the trick’s pointer
At age five, you are lively, breathtaking chasing as you run
The hide and seek game has been so much fun
An avid fan of robots, a transformer is what you like
Wandering around the park, you pedaled a bike
My little buddy, you were amazing at age 6
Read books about animals and situation problem you fixed
Asking questions was your way to communicate
I am learning and still searching just to relate
Made stories for you and your cousins at age 7
Even I don’t have training in writing, it enlightened
Creating stories where you and your cousins are heroes
It never fails to entertain, riding your dreams wherever it goes
Happy birthday, now at 8 years old
Wobbly upper teeth had been pulled
Changes take place anytime as you grow
Prepare a wish that candles are to blow
April 19, 2015
Categories:
pedaled, age, birthday, blessing, love,
Form:
Rhyme
(for Neil)
I wonder if you remember,
the dog you killed that day
on the way back from the Stony Rises?
You were driving, talking about
yourself, I think,
or maybe you were singing along
to some song on the radio.
Up ahead, the boy on a bicycle
pedaled against the wind,
dog by his side.
It happened so quickly,
you were driving so fast
you nearly didn’t stop,
thinking, hoping, perhaps,
that you’d only imagined it.
When we backed up the boy was
on his knees, hands hovering over
the dead animal.
"Sorry about that, mate,"
was all you could say.
Fighting back tears and disbelief
the boy looked up:
"Oh, that’s all right," he said.
Categories:
pedaled, angst, childhood, death, heartbroken,
Form:
Free verse
All my life, from day one it seems,
owning a horse has consumed my dreams.
I was intrigued with horses right from the start
and the four-hoofed critters captured my heart.
I would wear a little western hat of felt
and two cap pistols on my plastic gun belt.
Then I’d straddle a stick from our pile of wood
and ride that “horse” around the neighborhood.
Later on, when I was a grade school tyke,
I’d visualize a horse when I rode my bike.
I’d pretend I was taking a horseback ride
as I pedaled across the desert countryside.
This dream didn’t stop even in high school,
for I was still a horse-loving fool.
I lived in town and hung out with the cool gang
but the car I drove was a Ford Mustang.
For years I labored in the city grind,
but horses always lingered in the back of my mind.
Finally I decided to pursue my own course
and went out and bought myself a real live horse.
I kept my equine dream alive
and my one little horse soon became five.
It’s incredible how much money I spend
but I don’t want my horse dream to ever end.
Categories:
pedaled, animals, happiness, uplifting, dream,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry