Long Handlebars Poems

Each year as Christmas rolls around, as I buckle under the pressure and stress of shopping for gifts for people that already  have everything, I find myself remembering that Christmas of 1954.

Dad had joined...

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It was a late Saturday morning, and I was getting my 12-year-old self ready for our weekly summer sand-lot baseball game. I had my ball glove hanging on my bicycle handlebars, two baseballs, and my...

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I had a Dream with Dragon in it, yes, just this morning, yes, today!
And the Dreams that linger, that I recall, are usually bad, I’m wont to say… 
Haven't seen 'Day of The Trifids' in...

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Shattered dreams of New Canaan

no longer land of the free home of the brave,
original rightful occupants hoodwinked, petrified,
where diseases xeroxed
ambushed, crushed, extinguished,
squashed, trashed, wampashed,
the entire kit and kaboodle zapped
violent unwelcome intruders
celebrated acquisition or outright
annexation of...

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I was only allowed to go, after much whining 
     begging, promises of unlikely saint-hood
     if my brother, (much to his displeasure) made a pledge
  ...

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I quite enjoyed writing these two line poems for the Bantu contest - the idea of the call and response with two different statements but the same sensory response to each line. A bit like...

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March 19, 2023, is a day I will never forget,
You see, that is the day that my Daddy left.

Not in the way you may think.
For he had gone to...

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Looking at an old photo of myself at age 13,
I see a girl, rail-thin, but on the verge of womanhood.
Her hair hangs in long pigtails and she wears a modest top with shorts
as she sits...

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.              Each year as Christmas rolls around, as I buckle under the pressure and stress of 
shopping for gifts for people that...

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Elegant in burnt orange afterglow, 
sparkling starlight opens the show.
Neighbors and strangers appear all aroun’, 
porch lights and car lights enlighten the town.

They arrive afoot and atop handlebars.
Tots wave from strollers like famed movie stars.
Mothers...

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Birds chirping roughly on an avocado tree
I curiously look upwards to see what could that noise be? 
Is it a sparrow or a mockingbird? 
It's plump and it has all shades of brown

I'm stepping upwards next to...

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A seething summer morning in the oil boom trailer park
Oral Roberts on the radio with the gospel told by Mark
The reek of raw petroleum is everywhere around
We little oil trash urchins play marbles on the...

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I knew he’d forget

All I wanted this year was a bike, I even wrote Santa three letters so he wouldn’t 
forget. I ran to my sister’s room and woke her up, “Come on, let’s go...

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she knew all the moves
Queen's Gambit
Sicilian Defense
Bura's Desperado Sacrifice
with her arms wrapping me
we barreled the freeway
racing headlong into the wind
balanced on two wheels below
as free as mustangs in the mountains
abandoned in the moment with the...

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Withering hearts on an emotional departure 

We believe, you cannot guess
What we are about to say now.
It really does seem like yesterday
You were snuggled up in blanket in the bed
Listening a story about ‘wedding of...

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I drive around a bi-cycle
a cycle bike psycho 
at night a light’s on
my-ma (ma) mountain bike
oh it’s a little delightful 
my seat on my cycle 
I ride all night on
my-ma (ma) mountain bike 

I’ll jump...

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Inhaling, hushed, from hashed cigars
    my mind implodes in Malimar
        where Naiads bathe in caviar -
         ...

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He looked at the old man with tobacco stains on his shirt
Then asked if times were different when he was a kid
The old man smiled and said I’ll tell you a story
About the times we...

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With a smile upon my face and a twinkle in my eye
I rode my sister's tricycle with an accomplished sigh 
Traveling as fast as my three year old legs could carry me
Feeling the wind in...

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"Howdy Amos”, “Howdy Seth” as Amos points to the empty seat 
Next to him on the bench by the Limerick Town Bandstand.
Amos t’aint much for words but he’s a pretty good pointer.
“Whatcha doing, Amos?” “Sittin’”.
Did...

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They're getting older,
five brothers and sisters,
all with degrees, jobs, families, 
nice homes, good lives, happier 
than most except when they must 
fly to the home of their childhood 
and settle their mother's estate.

They gather in...

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Bittersweet memories are too hard to forget
It hurts too much to be happy
It feels too good to be sad
So we settle for less
We settle
Deep down in our seats
Sinking, bottomless, dark
Scared
Gripping the handlebars tightly
never letting go...

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Don't Call it Anything



So you write something and call it a poem.

Because its is free verse it could also be mistaken for a shopping list,
or a set of instructions for assembling a bookshelf, but you...

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Lonely Chrome
Loch David Crane
October 14, 1997

The ride today was flawless,
the sky was turquoise blue,
the wind was warm--the only drag
was riding without you.

With my shirt off on the freeway
I was embraced by the sun,
its warm arms...

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At the end
of the river's exhausted reach
where swamp firmed
into solid ground, there was a place
the locals used as a tip.
Broken, worn out stuff
from clean outs, hoarded 
household effects finally let go,
garage junk 
and the discarded...

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