The evening comes, I recognize
The same old evening’s here
A blurry line across the skies
The sounds of cars I hear
Quite as distinguished as they were
From the embankment side
The motorbikes are also there
Their engines never die
They fade into the background soon
And silence chills the breeze
It fills the gap between my room
And crowns of the trees
And everything looks as before
In this old evening blue
Except I’m seeing you no more
To hear your I love you
Except that everything we are
Has turned to ash again
Except my dearest love's gone far
It’s all about the same.
In loving memory of our Mark,
Better known to most as Skip,
Reunited with Clegg up in paradise now,
Best friends back joined at the hip.
From thrashing about on his motorbikes,
Revving the **** out them in crickmere park,
To his mams house bouncing with hardcore,
As skip raved away to M.C's and afterdark.
He absolutely loved to spend time with family,
Travelling to raves and cutting shapes on the dance floor,
In fact if he was made to choose just one,
Wouldn't be sure what he said he loved more.
All the stories that so many have to share,
In the days ahead filled with both joy and pain,
Means his legacy shall forever live on,
Precious memories will always remain.
We feel you all around us buoy,
Your spirit will never ever be gone,
You never could call it a night,
May your soul forever rave on.
Nigel likes to talk about planes
And trains and motorbikes.
He has a few friends
Who like the same.
I say to him: "Why does the piston go up and down?"
He tells me,
But I don't really understand.
I go back to my poetry books
And let my imagination soar.
While Nigel gets on his bike and makes it roar.
Motorbikes are not allowed
Out here where people stroll.
Smoking’s not permitted, either;
Fresh air is the goal.
Blasting music’s also banned
So peace can be enjoyed,
Which is why, right here and now,
I’m feeling so annoyed.
A motorcycle zipped on past
And stopped one bench away.
Two guys got off and took a seat;
There’s nothing I can say.
Their music’s loud, their reefer stinks;
They’re coughing up a storm.
Behavior such as this is not,
Around here, quite the norm.
Yet lately I’ve been witness to
Obnoxiousness galore
And it appears that lawlessness
Will happen more and more.
What’s not allowed is just a phrase;
It doesn’t mean a thing,
For nowadays it seems to me
Offensiveness is king.
The ***** she brought to the marriage
is bawling again.
Something must have woken it up
as it slept in its drawer
where she keeps her special underwear.
Turning to me in the dark.
"Can you see to it?" she ask sleepily.
I turn the nightlight on.
Opening the drawer
piteous cries fill the room,
they jump through walls
causing neighbors to dream
of riding motorbikes.
I wrap the toy up
in a small child's blanket,
its sobs becoming quieter.
She stir under the blankets.
"You always did resent it, “
she mutters.
I slip into a dream,
one where the *****
sleeps happily between us like a baby,
maybe I’ll buy her a dog.
I always wonder at the folks
Who do not follow rules,
Who violate the status quo,
Think followers are fools.
A traffic light that’s red? Who cares?
No motorbikes allowed?
Let’s speed along where people walk
And blast our music LOUD!
A flight attendant wanting me
To sit here with a mask?
I’ll knock her teeth out; maybe then
She’ll be afraid to ask.
A bicycle chained up outside?
The owner’s not around,
So I can take it for myself
And show off what I’ve found.
The list can just go on and on;
This stuff just isn’t right,
Yet more and more we’re powerless
To stand our ground and fight.
When rules are made and put in place,
What used to be expected
Was that they would be followed
And not nastily rejected.
I may not be so popular with the comments and the views
and although I never make the front liners nor the news
the one thing I do know is this I got friends that are true
They know to find my page and send me my heart's gage
even if I didn't win a contest nor cause the latest rage
I dislike gossip and fake people and yes, I love to sage
I don't evaluate myself by the amount of likes dislikes
preferring Cinderella's stage coach over shiny motorbikes
I don't sit in the cinders and take pleasure in the spikes
I'm an ordinary poet who loves to write about this and that
very private with my sort so I won't say where I hang my hat
and if you really must know, I love dogs more then I love cats.
They dress all in black
eyeliner favors a tire track
lipstick of ebony too
some are into voodoo
Draconian is their soul group
a reptilian troop
some say they're evil
I just conceive them primeval
They have been known to heal
a secret they do reveal
they're from Thuban
a constellation fusion
leather and spikes
tattoos and motorbikes
magic some conjures
feasting with rongeurs
They're into death metal
though some are versatile
they'll be seen on Halloween night
they'll certainly deliver you a fright
Black Dog
Johnny was a quiet boy:
He lived by Rangar Wood.
Johnny’s mother loved him,
As all good Mother’s should.
Black dog what’s you purpose?
Just to howl at the moon?
To harass poor little Johnny;
Who’s time has come to soon.
Johnny had a Motor-bike,
And a helmet colored red.
He raced with all his buddies
Till Johnny turned up dead.
Black dog what’s your purpose?
Are you only here to fight?
To take away our Johnny;
In the stillness of the night?
He hit a patch of gravel,
Going quickly round a curve.
There wasn’t time to jump;
And there wasn’t time to swerve.
Black dog what’s your purpose?
Johnny’s just begun his life.
He left a crying Mother,
And a devastated wife.
"Keep it between the ditches".
Is what the people say.
To flying boys on Motorbikes;
Before they go away.
Black dog what’s your purpose?
When fine young people die?
They bleed-out on the highways,
While their loved ones cry.
Vehicle Island
While the owners of parked cars at the seaside
sat in overcrowded restaurants and was served
by sweat dripping waiters the cars started and
drove in a neat formation into the sea.
A mass suicide that lit up the sea for hours, but
more cars came and they became an island
and when there were no more cars left, motorbikes
were used as top soil.
Up from this mess grew traffic cones filling the space
with stop signs and pelican crossings.
A bike, a fortune for a bike, the moneyed class said
and there were the street fights; “it is my bike no I saw it first”
the veneer of civility broke down.
When the populace stole the horses of the Gypsies
undelaying social hatred broke out; it was their right
to steal to defend their country and the Gypsies
horseless now had to live behind tall walls this because
prisoners don’t need cars.
Pi pi pi... kekyo kekyo Hooo- hoke'kyo Hoohokekyo
awakening to the sounds of Japanese bush warblers
they are signalling the start of the day
welcoming warm humid heat wave rising
Humming... rumbled rumbled... Vroom vrooooooooom
cars and motorbikes zooming past the intersection
machines flew by with no care in the world
subway train doors clanking shut
Rattling grumble... snoring growl... Snort snorting snore
drowsy drunkard taking up space on train seat
overworked souls no longer differentiate what's public or private
hearts and minds running cold as ice
Touch-typing... click click click... inaudible touch screens
swapping left and right, getting to the relevant page
words and ideas popping up in the mind
one becomes virtually bonded to unrelated news
Talk talk talk... unstoppable opinions floating around
just because your perspectives are your own
uncertainties based on inductive reasoning
associating with one another through limited views...
I go to school, but not everyday.
My parents said i should, if i wish to get a nice pay.
But i get so distracted, from the thought of school
We've been told from a young age, to enjoy school is deemed uncool.
But schools a short, important step in life.
Like finding a stable job and a supporting wife.
I do hope my attitude towards school does change, for my attendance and attitude i only have myself to blame.
Maybe it's the bad groups i hang around with, thinking slinging drugs and flashing knives are slick.
The thoughts these people have are far beyond sick.
when i get the motivation to go to school, they'll surely say "don't go to school, hang with us, don't be gay"
Being called gay, is a small price to pay. knowing i'll have a bright future, i think my thoughts on school shall stay.
I think that's what i'll do, i'll avoid them and attend school
Getting called gay by a person who considers himself a mate,
all because i wish to enter a gate and stay for the day?
Well, who needs friends like that anyway. When i have school, a future, motorbikes, and an xbox to play.
Going home.
On the plain of Alentejo
sacred green grass ornamented with white flowers.
Rolling landscape and big farms
grazing cattle,
sheep in the shade of umbrella trees.
Rolling landscape I would love to be a stallion here.
Alas, I see few horses and no mares,
but many four- wheeled motorbikes
disturbing the peace.
Cows, sheep and big balled bulls
milk and meat,
time to stop for lunch.
The old Victorian toys in good condition are terrifiC
And collecting rare stamps or cards is very colourfuL
When I saw these gems I knew I had a huge bonanzA
But please do be very careful when you attend auctionS
Some road shows you can find wonderful furniture antquieS
Are you under the spell for old Japanese motorbikes like SuzukI
Lots of comics and magazines can also bring a touch of pure magiC
Yes it can be real fun and rewarding looking at some rare motor carS
© Copyright K.C.Leake
24th November 2015
All Rights Reserved
Who expects to do a deed of kindness...
doesn't it happen unexpectedly?
Late this afternoon strolling down wide streets
with blooming oaks that smelled heavenly,
I helped a blind woman cross an intersection where kids
race on motorbikes with earphones plugged in their ears.
Teens blasting music laughed hysterically at her who's of advanced age,
and screaming they insulted her " Stay home, old fart...don't walk.
by yourself, many crazy boys will run you over and not look'! "
" Shout your foolish mouths! " I fetched words of rage.
" Has any of you done a deed of kindness today? Even the smallest one can make
you proud to have a golden heart! " Listen to this guy! Nice people suck! "
The tallest and scruffiest one said giving me the finger. " Wait until I am finished,
then you wish you had never made that sick remark! "
My voice raised and thundered rising eyebrows in the busy park,
" Do a deed of kindness today, help others in need and be blessed! "
Lots of folks cheered and approached me while the punks ran off,
" They are trouble makers and they think they are so tough! "
Copyright ( c ) 2015 by Andrew Crisci
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