Jack sits in the wheelchair in the grass
a rebel nerd, he thinks of the time
when he cycled up Teton Pass
by a stream through walls of pine
Obsessed, this viewpoint vampire
his memory full of hill and vale
A landscape loon, an odd desire
But now his body is his jail
The harried nurse to her surprise
Distracted from a patient's cries
sees a vision in Jack's fogged eyes
lakes and forests and crimson skies
[chorus]
In each scene, views so grand
At six thousand feet, he biked along
Never quite reached the Promised Land
But the last verse is not the song
Kate sits in the same old age home
A relic from a bygone show
Her friends long dead, she's now alone
Her melody no longer on the radio
She was warm and could be all heart
Now a meteor in afterburn
She knows that bodies fall apart
Resigned or not, the wheel must turn.
[outro]
Jack and Kate were luckier than some
They were free, knew right from wrong
They lived a long life, and had their fun
The last verse is not the song.
Categories:
biked, change, freedom, life, old,
Form: Lyric
I've seen you move with fire
Your spirit all aglow
You sang and wrote poems all winter,
New life you did reenter.
Faith had found you
You were like morning dew.
The reservoir you jogged
The Hudson where you biked,
Those were your spot of healing
Your place of worship appealing.
faith had found you
You were like morning dew.
And then you disappeared
That devil's jealous heart,
Just kept coming after you
As life and death, you reviewed.
Faith had never left you
You were like morning dew.
So! if one's inner limp dims,
And no one seem to care,
Seek out your spot of healing
Your place of worship appealing.
*
Categories:
biked, adventure, appreciation, blessing, confidence,
Form: Bio
Going to School
My school days was not a happy one,
although history and writing was interesting
I wrote that my father had a herd of camels
in Morocco, but math eluded me.
Something like, a baker who has two eggs and flour
how many cakes does he make? Who the hell is am I supposed to know.
The after school was more interesting I biked
around pretending to be an explorer and
played detective with scant success.
When not doing that the local library was my plank
from the triteness every day of poverty.
They knew me well at the library I can still smell
the books and the world they brought me.
Alas, the one I used has been closed down the politicians
of today always save money for the wrong thing.
Categories:
biked, best friend, betrayal, birthday,
Form: Blank verse
Picnics at the Park
I wished that I had stopped
The hands of Mother Clock
From ticking on its tac
As time flew by steadfast.
Bye, bye my toddler sweet
Hello there little princess
New adventures you'll seek
Words small and big you'll speak.
You're so confident at three
A daredevil I could see
Climbing, jumping, hopping
In every closet, hiding.
First time I saw you biked
With training wheels unlatched
Made your Grandma so proud
Love tears bedewed her eyes.
At four you got bolder
Your bike rides went farther
Your hollers were like fireflies
Which I chased them from afar.
Though dusk had already fallen
You're still roamin' in the gloamin'
A guard brought you back alone
Told him 3324 Park St., was your home.
You loved picnics at age five
On the grass, we laid our mat
Admiringly I watched you biked
With your cool sunglasses and hat.
One day when you're past five
Moved miles away I couldn't drive
How I wished that I had stopped
Before. The tic tacs of Mother Clock!
Categories:
biked, emotions, grandchild, granddaughter, missing
Form: Dramatic Monologue
As a girl I fell out of a tree
Not really a safe thing you’ll agree
Raced around as I biked
And fell down as I hiked
It’s no wonder I have a bad knee.
Categories:
biked, age, pain,
Form: Limerick
I was cycling by a mountain stream
when a big Harley rider did scream,
he was mad that I biked
in the lane that he liked...
It says Bike Lane! Your a** I should ream!!
Actually happened this past weekend.
Categories:
biked, education, humor,
Form: Limerick
The absolute Faith
It is so long ago now I might have had a hallucination
I had a day off at my work as a cook at a tourist hotel.
And biked to the bay that didn`t have big waves, it`s odd
But a have always had a fear of the sea despite the fact
I spent thirty years on the surfaces of oceans that were
A times of ill temper.
Having gone ashore on an Island in the Saragossa Sea
I was a survivor of the ghost that haunts a seaman’s heart.
What I saw in the bay was six nuns were rowing and mother
Superior steering the boat, on her signal, they stopped rowing
Uplifted oars dripped diamonds into the sea.
A haze descended and they disappeared, I do not know where.
Sun reflection on the water I had no sunglasses.
So I sat on a pebbled shoreline reading the daily news
Categories:
biked, addiction, adventure, allegory, allusion,
Form: Sonnet
be it the barstool at a favorite watering hole
or a stretch of a path trod daily in silence,
an independent movie theater whose matinees attract only the dedicated,
time spent on a park bench in the overcast afternoon,
a table at a favorite café near the window,
a gym in which one works off steam,
the top of a mountain hiked up to on the weekends or
a stretch of the city bridge biked when its not raining,
there are places that one feels comfortable alone
(even if surrounded by others),
that hold a calming quality wherein the mind is allowed to
wander &
where no one can get in from the outside
even if they wanted to---
how fortunate are those of us who can still
push the rest of it all
completely out of the picture
to focus on ourselves &
appreciate the shortness of life
for exactly what it is,
in an instance of peace brought on by
our own doing.
Categories:
biked, life,
Form: Free verse
The Dark Delaware on my left
The defunct canal on my right
And me in the middle of both.
I’m heading south on the towpath
Peddling my hybrid all the way.
As to where? I haven’t a clue
It doesn’t really matter where
Just as long as I’m still able to
Peddle along this special place.
I’ve biked here since I was a kid.
Two things have changed since that time:
Back then I had a three speed Schwinn
Today I have twenty-one speeds;
Back then I was young, today… old.
Categories:
biked, nostalgia
Form: Prose Poetry