Long On your bike Poems
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Pop down to the shops Son
I need some bits and bobs
Just a few potatoes
And a dozen crusty cobs
While you’re there, you might as well
Get carrots and some greens
Some frozen peas, some sugar
And a tin of Heinz baked beans
Some tea, I think we need some
Minced beef for shepherds pie
A pound of cheese, the Leicester
We’ll give that one a try
We haven’t any biscuits
You know the ones I like
Only get two packets, mind
Be careful on your bike
When you get back I’ll do some
Bread and dripping for your tea
A slice of bread and scrape for you
And sausages for me
© John W Fenn 03-07-2009
Form:
Imagine if at the drop of a hat,
You could become a cartoon
Sylvester the Cat,
Chasing poor little Tweety Bird,
Perhaps it sounds absurd
Or be Fred Flintstone or his friend,
Let’s just pretend,
I was Barney or Fred’s wife Wilma,
Back in the Stone Age era,
Or I really fancy good ol’ Bugs Bunny,
Being incessantly shot at by Elmer
Fudd, I wouldn’t feel that it was
eternally funny,
‘What’s up doc’ Bugs would say,
Every moment of every single day.
And of course, the beginning of
Cartoons with Mickey Mouse,
And his girlfriend Minnie, I wonder
Did she ever become his spouse.
Unforgettable Donald Duck
Who sometimes would show pluck
But lacked finesse and polish,
And never ceased to astonish
His audience who laughed at his
Semi-intelligible speech,
But how much each
One of us looked forward to time
In front of the telly, prime
Hour for adults and children alike,
Heading home on your bike,
To not miss a second, homework
Not yet done
For now, it was all about fun.
One of my favorites for absolute sure,
Was the Mad Hatter at his tea party
At whom Alice in Wonderland
Was a guest, and experienced first-hand,
What riddles were or were not about,
For without him, there would be no story,
And this famous fable would
Have lost it’s glory.
The road runner for me was a trifle
Boring, but his ‘beep, beep’ grew on me,
I ought to agree.
I could go on forever, and mention
Many a cartoon, but time to go
To sleep like Sleeping beauty,
And be awaken each morn
By my handsome prince who pampers
Me, for he believes I earn
An amazing aroma of fresh ground coffee
And interprets my cartoon dreams,
Into romance and a kaleidoscope
Of incredible themes!
Dragons may live forever;
At least it’s what legends say;
But, we who love them
Know that they just go away;
To live with other old ones.
In senior colonies,
High on mountain tops, in caves;
Old dragons in their nursing homes;
Will live for many days.
They’ll rejuvenate, aging in reverse.
The only way a dragon dies;
Would be if it were killed.
Even then, it will return;
Its new life to fulfill.
For dragons will return to their
Most loved families.
So if you love a dragon,
And perhaps it seems to die;
Just take heart; it’s out there
Somewhere in mountains, high.
It may be weeks or years or another incarnation
but, soul mates of the dragons
will always be rejoined.
One day you’ll be out walking;
Or perhaps out on your bike;
You’ll feel loving, gentle warmth,
And then you’ll be surprised.
Turn and greet your dragon;
like the phoenix. he won’t die.
I’m coming down
In these waves, I simply drown
Without a sound
Upon the ground
I’m pretty down, all alone
It’s shown in the unknown
In my universe eyes
In my oceanic eyes
I’m pretty down inside
Deep down, I have cried
A hundred tears
A thousand tears
A million tears
A billion tears
A trillion tears
For an infinity years
Have I wept all my tears away?
I am pretty down today, today
I’m coming up
In these waters, I’m a broken cup
With many a sound
I am so dishes-bound
I’m pretty down, all alone
It’s shown in the unknown
In my universe eyes
In my oceanic eyes
I’m pretty down inside
Deep down, I have cried
A hundred tears
A thousand tears
A million tears
A billion tears
A trillion tears
For an infinity years
Have I wept all my fears away?
I cry, fly and try all throughout the day
I’m pretty down, all alone
It’s shown in the unknown
In my universe eyes
In my oceanic eyes
I’m pretty down inside
Deep down, I have cried
A hundred tears
A thousand tears
A million tears
A billion tears
A trillion tears
For an infinity years
Have I wept all my cheers away?
I wish you were with me till my final day
I have a prison inside my head
My feet always feel like lead
I am the yeast without the bread
I am useless and I am seeing red
I have a dungeon inside my heart
My fingers are tearing me apart
I am the dust without the wind, baby
I am the rust on your bike on a day so rainy
I’m pretty down, all alone
It’s shown in the unknown
In my universe eyes
In my oceanic eyes
I’m pretty down inside
Deep down, I have cried
A hundred tears
A thousand tears
A million tears
A billion tears
A trillion tears
For an infinity years
Have I wept away my nightmares today?
Mirror my pain and soon, we will be happy I pray
I have to face my abominable fears
Replace them with childlike cheers
Even though I’ve been pretty down,
I’m not all alone, all alone and I am not on my own
Remember when summers were fun?
When the days were long and you were gone
From just after dawn 'till the setting sun
Remember when summers were fun
When you didn't go to work or to school
When you hung out with your buddies at the local pool
Remember when summers were fun
When you played baseball for hours and hours on end
When Mom couldn't track you, couldn't text messages send
Remember when summers were fun
When you teased the girls, before you first noticed their curves
When you played daredevil on your bike, stunts of steel nerves
Remember when summers were fun
When in one giant gulp you downed an ice-cold coke
When no one was offended by an off-color joke
Remember when summers were fun
Well, if you do, you may be the only one
Because those kind of summers are finished and done
Do you know what it’s like
To be required no more,
To be put out to grass,
To be kicked out the door,
To know your work’s ended,
No more will be done,
To be slung on the tip,
Pushed aside by the young,
To be pensioned off
In an unceremonious way,
To know you’ve had yours,
Every dog has its day,
To have an appetite for work,
But be left to hunger,
To be replaced by someone
Less able but younger,
To be told you’re too old,
When you feel in your prime,
To be sent on your bike,
Before it’s your time,
To be all washed up
And flushed down the drain,
To have no physical wounds,
But still be in pain,
To feel your age,
Find you’re no Peter Pan,
To see your life going
No longer to plan,
To recall when you felt rich,
But now you feel poor,
To hear your heart slowly pumping,
Alas’ it races no more,
To experience an emptiness
That nothing will fill,
To have no medical symptoms,
But still feel ill,
To be out of control
Of your own destiny,
To be constantly asking
Why me ... why me?
I'm a poet
And I don't know it
My rhyme destroys
My pen is poised
To trickle out
Some tale about
A butterfly
Or sunset sky
As sweet as jam
With rhythm slam
Dunk in your tea
My soliloquy
I'm a poet
Happy to show it
So on your bike
As I drop the mic
You may have guessed
If you passed the test
As you peruse
This lyrical muse
That no comp will claim
This shot at fame
My Shakespearean blooper
Hardly 'poetry super'
When the quill is dry
Or my muse is shy
Or the peripatetic
Pen pleads "pathetic"
I turn in shame
When love's words are lame
Yet in hopeful reason
This may be the season
Of drought, no doubt
It may be a good shout
Though my lack I berate
Truth is; seasons rotate
To conclude, I am hopeful
I can re-shape the doleful
Convert all this stressin'
I'm a poet.
(no messin')
Are these words true?
what do they really mean?
many shops portray them
are people so very green?
So many are taken in
believing their every word
but it's not always so
when you're hearts stirred
The cheap price is appealing
a bargain we always like
but when the competitions tough
just tell them to get on your bike
It's all economics out for quick buck
to draw us all in just two for one
but that's where we all keep falling down
can't say no when we should just run!
(When visiting Loch Lomond shores shop mall recently, saw the display 'final clearance' made me think of its effect on people. )
"It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring" ~ myself, today, as SoCal gets its first rain of the season, and Anonymous, to give credit where it is due
Little tyke,
hold on, before you ride off on your bike.
If you'd like,
I will explain something insane.
It's called rain.
You are young and I am old,
and so, you must do what you are told.
Yes, that's what I say.
You think it's the other way?
It's just that you were born right here,
in Los Angeles or very near,
in Southern California.
That is why I warn ya,
there's something you've not yet seen,
a liquid like what's in the washing machine,
something that should make you think,
something a kid like you would never drink.
We covered that already - I'm not insane.
You can Google it. It's called rain.
It falls from the sky in a vertical path.
Gravity's involved. There's lots of math,
and often when the wind is blowing,
and along a slanted path it's going,
you must ditch your bike and then start rowing,
as rivulets of water flowing,
send you sailing. There's no way of knowing,
which way the current may be going,
due in part to reasons owing
to nature's special gift bestowing,
which plants use to do their growing,
unless it freezes. Then it's snowing.
But in L.A. we don't believe in snow.
It's just a myth - just so you know.
It's something they use in corny Christmas tales.
So, don't bother with those details.
Back to rainwater, which disappears, like magic, into the earth,
that ball we live on of massive girth...
When rain rises up and puddles,
it invariably befuddles
little creatures known to squirm.
Of course, by that, I mean worms,
which come floating up in sorrow,
because they'll be dry and dead tomorrow.
One good thing about rain - it sloshes.
As your mother advises, wear your galoshes.
I'd like to thank you for your attention, son.
My lecture on precipitation is quite done.
Now, go out and have some fun.
The Gentle Ride
A light breeze brushed and passed me by
As I rode along the timeless scene,
I marvelled at the pellucid sky,
A light breeze brushed and passed me by.
And overhead I saw a swallow fly,
Effortless, supreme; so very serene.
A light breeze brushed and passed me by,
As I rode along the timeless scene.
On Your Bike
Shifting the steed, hammering the knee
Rainbow warrior leading the quest,
Passing by Mrs Fay Randonee
Shifting the steed, hammering the knee.
Peloton 'sham-Wahs sitting pretty,
Waiting for the ultimate test.
Shifting the steed, hammering the knee
Rainbow warrior leading the quest.
Two Wheels Gone.
On the velocipede with various speed
Sat a dandy horse astride in tweed.
Mrs Penny Farthing, her derrier aflush
Her bone shaker making her all ablush.
Some say she's as daft as a brush,
Many would say she oft dillydallied
On the velocipede with various speed
Sat a dandy horse astride in tweed.