We drive on the left
park in the driveway
and walk on the pavement
over here in the good old U.K.
They drive on the right
and on the parkway
also the pavement
over there in the U.S. of A.
It could be confusing to motorist
and pedestrian alike,
so where should we go
when riding a bike?
the garage sale sellers could not get rid of the bike
It takes a certain person, two actually, said Mike
It was a tandem bike, they could not sell that day
Until a giraffe family came by and happily rode it away.
an erotic bike ride
as we rode along,
she said she
wished that she
was my bike
that she liked
how i pedaled
and i turned
to her
and said,
i wished she was
my pedal
that i liked
how she pumped
and when we arrived
at the bike rack
smiling
we both secretly
wished that
it was a bed
where we would
one day
rack it all up
I got a mountain bike
it sits on my side porch
it sits under a torch
it should go on a hike
I got free beans from Mike
There’s three beans in my jeans
That I’ve had since my teens
or since I was a tike
bought a psych trip to Wyke
I didn’t take my beans
left them on the side porch
all alone with the bike
Bike & Beans
Lyricists Inc.
D.A.P. / Digital Analog Productions
written: 09-30-2022
David A. Porter
When I saw Dilly dally
I thought, "Oh no, this kid's got to rally!
Cuz if he loses this race,
it'll be a total disgrace,
cuz this race was right up his alley.
pink fireweed blooms
through the spokes of the ghost bike
beside the highway
riding,
once truly learned,
is never forgotten
seems some muscles wanted that in
writing...
my first bike was a blue and white Schwinn
the kind you pedal, a slow-mover without gears
It was much harder than I thought;
I had seen others ride bikes for years
On them, it looked easy. For me it was a nightmare.
I did not have training wheels, I was twelve.
This huge machine let me down over and over.
I have never had so many scrapes on my knees.
Seeing my five-year-old brother master his bike kept me going.
He learned how to ride a lot faster, but I think the training wheels helped.
He was confident he was not going to scrape his knees a thousand times.
I finally got it right, but was never thrilled with bike riding.
Bugs hitting my face
Wind in hair, feet on pedals
-Eleven again!
It stands propped
against a wall in my memory,
that green two wheeler bike,
my first, bought second hand
from a neighbor.
A deep, gravel graze I got
from learning to ride it, I swear,
still pains a phantom nerve
in my now arthritic knee
after all these years.
How I loved that bike,
its dented frame wearing
layers of paint pitted by history,
its last coat was a thick glaze
of leftover house paint
the same green color used
as trim on window frames
and fences fashionable
back then.
To me it was a gem.
I rode it to the boundaries
of my world carried on the
smooth ride and hum
of its tyres, sank its rims
deep into the muddy riverbank
and raced around a track
that skirted the football
ground. That bike
was pure freedom for me.
One day someone took it
and left it hooked on a tree
in the local park. The top bar
of its frame had been
snapped clean through.
Beneath the layers of paint,
rust had eaten away
its metal core.
In tears I wheeled it home
and put it in the shed and closed
the door. It was like closing
a book on part of my life.
thunders soundings
bring on dark and day skies
followed by large raindrops
Amazed Sue said, “This bike is built for three!”
How weird is that? How crazy can that be?
Women do not get along in threes, do they?
Let’s give it a try said two, and they pedaled away.
Three women on a bike, how much fun could that be?
By the end of the time, one was a clear enemy.
Women, like girls cannot get along with each other.
Not in odd numbers; just ask me or my mother.
two guys just hanging
sunday morning bike riding
enjoying weather
1980s childhood Haikus
Tech-free
Nature's performing
Batteries not included
childhood playground
My bike
Pink banana seat
A basket full of daisies
Warm wind on my face
Saturdays
Cartoons and breakfast
The sky our only roof top
Street lights call us home
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