Long Schwinn Poems
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Childhood
As I close my eyes and drift back in time
The thoughts of being young come to mind
When I was four, people were as tall as trees
Looking ahead, all I saw was knuckles and knees
When I was five, my first baseball glove
Seven was holding hands with my very first love
Eight I can remember my close friends
Family gatherings with most of my kin
Ten I remember the girl of my dreams
Childhood pranks and boyhood schemes
Eleven I crashed my faithful Schwinn bike
At twelve, a black eye from my very first fight
When fifteen came around, timed passed way too slow
Sixteen, I had my license and was on the go
Seventeen came, and High School ended
Joined the military as I intended
Youth has passed, and now I'm much older
Blood is thin, and I feel much colder
But I enjoy the thoughts of my past childhood
Go back in a second if only I could
But realizing this, the thoughts bring a smile
From the time long ago when I was a child
If I wish to return to those childhood days
Only in mind to be stored away
Close your eyes and return back then
The closet of time holds within
A time you once had and will always be
Thoughts of youth are what you'll see.
Lpickard
Copyright © William Pickard
We did not dress up for Halloween
In England, when I was of that age.
Movies revealed what fun it was;
the sheer joy in that,
and other things
American kids had,
which we did not;
comic books, Schwinn bikes and X-ray specs.
"Those Yanks, they're always showing-off"
my dad was often fond of spouting.
But I would dream of dressing
as a ghost,
monster, pirate,
or even Superman.
Knock on doors, yell "trick or treat."
In truth, not knowing which answer
would give me the better thrill.
Although, buckets piled high with candy
would, if I were being honest, win the day!
Last October eve would come and go as ever;
always so damp,
so cold,
and so very, very dull.
No pumpkins on the porch, inviting doors
nor crowds of laughing, giggling little ghosts.
Just rain; and dreams;
of pumpkins
candy
comic books,
Schwinn bikes
and X-ray specs!
Fall Flavors Poetry Contest Dressing up for Halloween
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Date wrote: 9th September 2022
If it had been the US, it probably would have been a Schwinn but this was Canada so it was a used red CCM (Canadian Cycle & Machine Company) one speed coaster bike. A bit too big for me at eight but I’d grow into it, or so I was told. The first few days were hell as I fell frequently, no training wheels for boys, and once crashed into the back of a parked car. But I persevered and soon was able to enjoy the vastly increased mobility to visit fiends and places that had formerly been out of reach. With our bikes, my friends and I extended our range from the Calgary’s western suburbs (now considered city core) to Nose Hill, Bowness Park, down a gravel path (now a paved bike trail) on the Bow River to the Zoo and even Cochrane. Our adventures were not without perils, once my chain broke going down Nose Hill, which on a coaster bike means NO Brakes, and I was saved from sure disaster only because the chain wrapped around my rear axle and stopped the bike. But we all survived, at least until motorcycles and cars became our mode of transportation.
So well loved by their children.
Our life coaches in how to play
this intricate game of life.
Cleverly guiding us on this highway
with directions.
Remember your Dad teaching you
to ride your bike?
A two wheeler gave my heart a strike.
That metallic green Schwinn was
top of the line.
He attached special lights and it's horn,
was one of a kind.
He ran behind me on the street,
Whilst,I with fear, like a drum in my chest,
drove from left to right.
Then stopped in fear, but he bade me to
try again.
I remember well going one half a block.
But something went terribly wrong.
It was garbage day in Elmwood Park, so
empty cans with no lids were waiting for me.
I would have preferred hitting a large tree.
But no!
I ended up with my butt in the bottom of
the can, legs toward the summer sky.
Poetess in a can!!
Dreamy Dad to the rescue came.
I was both embarrassed and ashamed.
He lifted me out, I was stuck!
Worse, urged me to ride yet again?
That's how Dads are, they do not
give up on you!
Though your world has just turned
upside down.
They stand there,entirely resolute.
To encourage, love and coach you,
all life through.
Tribute to my Father, Edward....
Thanks Daddy! Pangie
September 28, 2020
Noon PST
troubled youth
void of couth
non-cognizant of devious stratagems
possessing them
in hidden silence
keeping alive — the violence
causin' mother's to mourn
mourn the loss of their precious born
born with no silver spoon
blood shed—gone way too soon
fightin’ not to be punked
refuse to give up the goods
or some other replaceable junk
thinkin' 'bout momma bought it with hard earned dough
would she want you to give up your life for it though?
she'd tell you with the quickness—hell no!
let that crap go!
so you see— Common—had sense
he gave up that schwinn
for a salient win
what was to come he couldn’t fathom back then
but “it all makes sense in the end”...
Inspired by a televised one on one interview with Sam Jones, featuring, author, actor, rapper; Common. He shared an incident that took place a long time ago while growing up, where his bike was forcibly taken away from him. A bike he cherished, as his mother purchased it for him at a time when times were tough. He shared he regrets, still today that he did not fight for it.
Granted, his regret I'm sure goes so much more deeper than winning a fight to keep a bike; but because he was the wiser, better, stronger person to let it go; he's had the opportunity to be a much needed positive voice...
it was the week after Christmas,
the one when fate had granted me my fondest wish,.....
(a lustrous, ruby-red, Schwinn bicycle that sported a basket in the front, and a bell to ring.)
On that cold, late December night, I'll always remember how suddenly the sky was stained by the color of alarm
My young mother leaving her warm bed at three in the morning
without tying her robe, rousing us all with calm haste
Deep red reflections seeped through mud-splashed window screens
as she shooed us like sheep, down raw-grained stairs.
She pushed us from behind with her two hands,
out the door, and onto a frost-slick back porch,
into the wee hours of early light.
By then, wide-eyed, we stood and watched the fire from a safe distance,
as it consumed our garage. And, my bike.
From the frame of the doorway, and the top step's narrow slat
she enveloped me in her folds of chenille to keep me from shivering.
The cool of her hand on my shoulders,
watching my dad in his attempt with a hose,
to douse the inferno,
all the while, in a faltering voice, warning him to keep safe.
Sounds of sirens wailed in the distance
When I looked up into her face, with anxious eyes
I remember her soft, reassuring voice
"Hush now, don't cry"
"Everything will be alright."
I don't remember much after that,
except looking down, at her bare feet
turning blue in the cold
_____________________________________________________________
All the Christmases distant past were all so very memorable. Except for one Christmas I truly remember,
especially because it was unforgettable.
My parents and I gathered around the tree Christmas morn.
Many beautiful presents I found,
I was torn, which one to open first.
I looked about the room, there behind the tree
stood a large clumsy wrapped Christmas package.
I asked, “Can I open that one first please?”
Unwrapping the package with quick fingers,
I tore at the string and wrapping.
Then, ecstatic screams of joy with tears and wails
it took my breath away.
There was the Schwinn bike I saw in the store window
that my heart simply craved and yearned.
My parents looked at me with pride and joy and said,
” Merry Christmas!”
My eyes were fixed upon the bike with a smile;
it was the most magical moment of any Christmas.
It was a bright red, with shine chrome fenders,
and tassel hanging down the ends of the handle bars.
For all day long I rode.
12/15/2016
my first bike was a blue and white Schwinn
the kind you pedal, a slow-mover without gears
It was much harder than I thought;
I had seen others ride bikes for years
On them, it looked easy. For me it was a nightmare.
I did not have training wheels, I was twelve.
This huge machine let me down over and over.
I have never had so many scrapes on my knees.
Seeing my five-year-old brother master his bike kept me going.
He learned how to ride a lot faster, but I think the training wheels helped.
He was confident he was not going to scrape his knees a thousand times.
I finally got it right, but was never thrilled with bike riding.
Every joyful Christmases of distant past
were all very special and memorable.
Except for one unique Christmas unsurpassed.
I recall it was an unforgettable
day, with presents under the lit Christmas tree.
My parents and I gathered at Christmas morn,
I dropped to my knees. I found, I was torn, gee!
So many gifts which to open first. I was torn.
I looked about the room, there against the wall
stood a very large clumsy wrapped Christmas gift.
I asked, "Can I open that one first of all?"
I pushed all the other gifts out of my way
to get to the one large clumsy wrapped ultimate gift.
I unwrapped with quick fingers, the welcoming gift.
I tore at the string and wrapping. Then, ecstatic
screams of joy, tears, and wails it took my breath away.
There was the Schwinn bike I saw in “The Attic”
store window that my heart simply craved and yearned.
My parents looked at me with pride and joy and said,
“Merry Christmas!" My heart gleefully turned.
My eyes were fixed upon the bike with a smile;
it was the most magical moment of any Christmas.
It was a bright red, with shiny chrome fenders,
and tassel hanging down the ends of the handle bars.
I rode all day.
They were all special and memorable memories,
except for one unique Christmas.
11/29/2017
Dad was lounging in his chair, the football game had just begun.
Beside him with his baseball, glove and bat, stood his little son.
"Daddy, will you come outside and play some catch with me?"
"Not now, son, I want to watch the game, please let me be!"
"Daddy, will you take me fishing, it's such a pretty day,
And maybe we can have a picnic, if that would be okay!"
"Not now, son, find some friends and run along and play.
I'm scheduled to play a round of golf with my pals today!"
'Neath the tree Santa had left a beautiful, sporty Schwinn.
The lad was anxious to show it off and take it for a spin.
"Daddy, can you teach me to ride? It won't take you very long."
"Not now, son, maybe your Mother can, now please run along!"
On a winter's morn the ground sparkled with newly fallen snow.
The little fellow's heart beat faster, his face was all aglow.
"Daddy! Daddy! Will you take me sledding on my Flexible Flyer?"
"Not now, son, I want to read the paper and stay by the fire!"
Swiftly passed the years, the boy now had a family of his own.
He lived far away - his aged father called him on the phone.
"Son, please come to visit me, I'm so lonely and all alone!"
"Not now, Dad, I'm enjoying my son - a trip I must postpone!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)