Dodging one here, dodging one there,
Riding along without a care.
Three in a row, which way do I go,
I close my eyes and curse the so and so.
Oh! what a bang, the old van shook,
But at least it is still going and not in a ruck.
What is that noise? that cannot be right,
I, giving a gasp of utter fright.
Must stop, foot pedal goes straight to the floor,
And the hand brake does not belong to the van anymore.
Coast to a stop, must pull onto the verge,
The engine roars but no longer gives the van any urge.
Beneath the van the axle is in two,
With the stout half shaft plainly in view.
Side to side the rear wheel wobbles,
Not what I expected for all of my troubles.
Beware of those holes, the pot holes I mean,
Especially those that cannot be seen.
Old NED has finally been brought to a stop,
Everything seems to be going to pot.
At least I escaped the indignity,
Of watching that wheel coming off and overtaking me.
Oh! what utter strife,
It is for sure, ONE HELL OF A LIFE !!!
Categories:
foot pedal, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form: Rhyme
Cat's eyes glow in concrete
their wings are orange and green
best seen in low light conditions.
Organ pipes are often integral
with large holy edifices,
yet they foot-pedal like any unicycle;
some can be surgically removed.
Man must drink to live,
but by law
women get the first glass of wine.
People who mix together
become odd,
a world of odd things
spins on the tip of a needle,
a fine point
that is said to thread a seamless sameness;
these symbolic needle-workings
are also too diaphanous to be seen
by the naked skin.
Categories:
foot pedal, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Lynette was attached to the ambiance of the seventies.
She had a shag rug with large loops and flecks of silver.
Bulb like globs floated in her six lava lamps.
She replaced her accelerator pedal with a weird bare foot pedal.
Her house featured peace signs, happy faces, and free love slogans.
My favorite piece was a Volkswagen bus planter that yelled “perky”.
But in actuality, I liked the entire set up – her car and her house.
Categories:
foot pedal, nostalgia,
Form: Free verse
If I were a taxi cab, I would not charge people.
I would delight them with free rides from St. Louis to New York.
Babies would love being born in my backseat.
I would travel the world, at a good clip, picking up speed downhill.
Policemen would wave me by, remembering their free rides.
I would play sixties and seventies folk music on my radio.
A cute bare foot hippie foot pedal would delight my hippie self.
I would rig up a gorgeous orange and red lava lamp with a silver top.
And you would call me groovy, cool, and radical.
Categories:
foot pedal, 2nd grade, 3rd grade,
Form: Personification
God bangs on golden drums.
Foot pedal to the sun.
A virgin playing base.
Strumming off beat chords.
On lead guitar, Jesus jamming away merrily.
His spirit shinning upon the stage of a runaway star.
Far off into a purplish mist.
The chorus sings, of war, poverty, the famine of loneliness.
~God where are you, where the hell have you been.
Spirits are starving for your grace.
Spirits are starving, the suffering is beyond immense.
When are you coming back around to chop the devil's fist~
The band keeps playing the same message since time began.
Bathe your heart in the word of purity, and in love it shall surely land.
Place your heart in faith and spend eternity with the band.
Categories:
foot pedal, god, love,
Form: Rhyme