Long Bikes Poems
Long Bikes Poems. Below are the most popular long Bikes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bikes poems by poem length and keyword.
"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
My breath once scattered seeds of dandelions.
I stared in moments lost to grains of sand.
Walked among the nighttime stars in wonder;
Held golden leaves within my youthful hand.
Watched a shoestring dangle through the wide eyes of a kitten.
So much older then was I, my life unwritten.
I touched an eagles’ feather, wondered why or whether,
Others felt such wonder in their heart.
Cold handlebars of bikes and dust or rust the likes of which
Were Layered on much older things than I.
I watched a paper airplane fly, a barrel burning in the yard,
Ate fruit right off a growing tree, and found it’s not so hard
To wonder what it means to be. Life is still like that for me,
Filled with mighty miracles I wish each heart could see.
In my dreams…
There came a morning, full of light
When all my heart felt so very bright
Like Christmas with visions of candy canes
There was Summertime and visions of…
Lemony sunrises and tangerine sunsets,
Vibrant red strawberry wheels for skates
And hearty pink watermelon wheels for bikes
Roller skating tasted of strawberries
While bike riding tasted of watermelon
The sunrise tasted tart as lemon pie
And sunset tasted citrusy like a tangerine
When nightfall set in and there came stars
Sparkling and swirling around a full silver moon
I could taste the light, falling across the night
Reminding me why its signals were so alive
On and on the dream continued…
I breathed in cotton candy echoes
Through rose scented halos of chocolate
I read peanut butter poetry
And listened to peach flavored songs
I watched the joy of a dazzling butterfly
Winging its way through a caramel orchard
When I awoke… to the sounds of morning
Coffee brewing and bacon sizzling,
My mother humming the notes of gentleness,
I only felt the trembling ache of a drooling yearning..,
For a bicycle with wheels of sweetest watermelon
Dripping with sugary sweet tenderness!
A Watermelon Fantasy Ride To Feed My Imagination Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
June 28, 2022
If you saw me in the street you would judge me; 'Thats another scumbag you'd say... 'He looks like the ones on the bikes that deal drugs and steal phones, and do crime every day...
'I saw him talk to a murderer; 'I saw him stood with a gang...'He probably has a knife in his pocket... or worse, a thing that goes bang!
A scumbag for sure 'theres no doubt! A balaclava covers his mouth! He's on the side of the dark forces... I bet he has drugs in that pouch...
You judged my book by its front cover; and you'd never believe whats inside! A Pandoras box of Philosophy! And Faith, and Love, and sweet Rhymes!
A wide open chasm of isness; And Wisdom from Biblical times! Solomons Proverbs are locked in here too; and Mary - Oh My, Oh My!
If you opened my book you'd find Jesus! His disciples, and lessons in time! Krishna would jump off the pages! He's here with me... deep in this mine!
My father's in here with me too, and loved ones, they're no longer here...You'd read about how I kept going; against all the odds and the fear!
You'd see all my hopes and aspirations! Ideas that would blow you away! You'd read about my heartbreaks, and healing, and love, and miracles I saw everyday!
You'd hear lessons from Echart tolle. Geoff Thompsons voice is in here too... Nisargadatta Maharaij, and Ramana to name but a few!
You'd see a tear shed as i write this, and a lump in my throat, (but of Glee!)
The next time you notice a scumbag, Just know - that Scumbag could be Me.
Back in the eighties, wild and free..
A golden time for you and me.
We'd ride our bikes through streets unknown..
No screens, no apps.. just flesh and bone.
Vinyl spun and cassettes played loud..
Walkmans made us feel so proud.
Sunday sessions, pub lights dim..
Happy hour.. middies brimmed.
Beaches burned with summer’s glow..
Boardies, sunburn, sand in tow.
Bonfires crackled, smoke rose high..
Underneath the star-lit sky.
Dating boys with puffy hair..
Lipstick smudged but didn’t care.
Waiting by the phone each night..
Waiting for a call, he said he might.
No ATMs—our cash was king..
Hard-earned dollars, ching ching ching.
Weekend drives to hunt for fuel..
Breaking our parents curfew rule.
Holden Kingswoods, Toranas too..
Panel vans with wicked crews.
Number Three Carpark.. burnouts spun..
Late-night laughs and endless fun.
Roller & Ice skating, ice so slick..
WAFL games and goal-side kicks.
Live bands shook the pubs at night..
Fake IDs for the bouncer to sight.
Ravenswood drags and bogans galore..
No respect for the rules or law.
Chiko rolls and Fast Eddys feeds..
Hangover cures.. a friend in need.
Fireworks lit the sky so bright..
Parties raged through endless nights.
Australia Day, we stood so proud..
Singing anthems strong and loud.
Sunday roasts with family near..
Good mates laughing, ice-cold beer.
Life was simple, bold, and fast..
A time we knew would never last.
Now we look back, hearts so full..
The eighties had that magic pull.
No likes, no texts.. just love and grace..
Those were the days, our golden place.
Roars of dark shadows covered through the dusty iron blocks, raining down in tunes on the souls of the districts. The spot of a thousand bleeds and blood stood man made animals, humans set to engage and hunt for their life that isn't theirs.
Her cold hands felt fear. Submerged in a train of countless hours chase. Hidden in a vault where love breathed chaos, life whispered anger, help saw no windows. Left in the midst of desperation where survival is born from a shed.
Would you rather be killed?
Bodies rattled on thin air like wind, back to the soil.
Wars made enemies and their children armours of activities.
Bondage in anguish, captivity in light.
Every new day brings nothing but hopelessness.
Offsprings caught even before they were birthed, drew the edges of the spikes and bikes of those whooping snakes screwed into their system as venoms, choked on the spot.
No mercy!
Ignorance brought no mercy!
But again, to survive is by flash not by stakes. Every cards are allowed until caught.
Would you call grey bad even if
she fought to live?
Would you echo snow a traitor because he sailed the skateboard without wheels?
Show me one single outstanding in the capital and I'll make a cheer.
That was then, this is now.
The smell of cut grass on a Saturday morning
The aroma of coffee being poured as day was dawning
The surprise of a guest coming for breakfast
Saturdays were so splendid!
As kids we would play outside for hours,
Cricket, catches, climbing up trees.
We played through the day and into the night
We came indoors by the bright moonlight.
TV was something that you got as a treat,
It was after your bath, if your homework was neat.
Mom would cook some dinner and then we would sit,
We would watch MacGuyver or Michael Knight and Kit.
Time passed so slowly back in the 19th century,
Kids were kids, they stayed in school.
No mission, no fuss, we just didn't rush
Our growing up was fun, it was really cool.
I just wish my boys could grow up like us.
I get quiet sad when I see their pale faces,
no sunshine or summer, no visiting outside places.
TV and games have taken over their time,
I get so sad even though they say they are fine.
Imagination is something of the past,
Their playgrounds are online,
they are growing so fast.
The days of swimming in pools until night,
Or playing kissing catches until the moonlight.
Of carving names into trunks of large oak trees
are over now, it's so sad to see.
Those were the days, of giddy fun,
of making friends in the park
when the holidays begun.
Riding bikes and playing hopscotch
yes those were the days
My children are blessed, I guess with the best.
they too will look back and remember,
their childhood thrills, and they too will reminisce
about those good old days
and how things were better then.
BREAKING NEWS
We have breaking news right here on the soup!
You can travel back in time if you write about poop.
Back to sixth grade is where we’ll get sent.
There is a time machine waiting that’ll send back our scent.
We can giggle at farts that we rip in the hall.
Or maybe grease one out when we pick up a ball.
Back to sixth grade? Where do I sign?
That would be better than reading poems that whine all the time.
From the seat of our bikes, we’d pass gas all around.
A smellier bunch would never be found.
Just don’t lite a match, it could blow down your door.
We all could read comics about Iron Man and Thor.
For a seat back in time, a stinker I’ve got.
If it’s all about poop, then I’ll give it a shot.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this rhyme I’ve sent forth.
It’s a fart just for you, sent down from the North.
A time for awakenings
And stirrings
Spring cleaning
Of the internal kind
New resolutions for days
When the sun shines upon us
Getting rid of the cobwebs
Away with hibernating tendencies
Go play outdoors
Take in some sun
Breathe in outdoor air
Dust the bikes
Go for strolls
Plan mini excursions
Line up some adventures
Get ready get set go
Remember the meaning of the word play
Chase butterflies
Watch birds build nests
Explore
Watch the buds come out
Then suddenly explode
Watch the colour green
Take over the world
Stress giving way to smiles
As people remember why
They hold on to boring jobs
Sun’s up early and sets later
Longer days more time for fun
Longer weekends by default
Me time is no longer in the dark
Life is worth living
To the fullest
Spring is a revival
Rejuvenation
Joy at our fingertips
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on August 7, 2018 for contest ANY JULY 2018 POEM sponsored by DEAR HEART AKA BROKEN WINGS - RANKED 3RD
On the streets of lively Mumbai,
Close to the sandy Juhu,
They serve Chaat and Masala Chai,
To make your heart go Yoohooo!!
The English, Locals and Arabs!
Jews, Africans and Chinese!
Gather to the aroma of the herbs,
And to relish the Indian Cuisine!
Vending stalls have lined the route,
As the natives and tourists wander in,
Flanked by cycles, bikes and touts,
Amidst the music and the din.
This mela of colours and clothing,
Will make a rainbow look white,
travellers in town need updating,
And wear colours that are bright!
It is dusk, and it is getting dark,
the street lights are coming on,
Be warned of strangers in the park!
Hide your wallet, or they will be gone!
Watch the trash, the puddles at feet,
And the stray dogs at your shin,
At every shop a smiling greet,
“Try our food! Please step in!”
Unique, unique is this ensemble,
On the streets of sweet Mumbai,
Where petty human irks crumble,
In the stream of gastronomic joy!
See the Mexican laugh with the Texan,
Over the Goan seafood platter,
Even the Arab and Jew have taken,
A place at the table together!
The leaders at the United Nations,
Who have failed to make a deal,
Must learn from this congregation,
How problems are solved at a meal!
UN policies, treaties at the table,
Have had no effect on peace,
But sandy Juhu is ever so stable,
For people eat and mix with ease!
Let these vendors in Mumbai, Juhu,
Take the lead in creating the peace,
Let their Chai make you go Yoohoo,
And hatred in the world will cease!!
On the streets of lively Mumbai,
Close to the sandy Juhu,
They serve Chaat and Masala Chai,
To make your heart go Yoohooo!!