There is a man I really like
And that’s the bloke that they call Spike
Laughter is a healing balm
And when he used it it worked a charm.
To hide away the pain and strife
That he experienced in life
He exposed the crass absurdity
And did it with a degree of glee.
If you can make the despairing laugh
Then you have found a special path
I’ve said me piece now on your bike
I’d just like to thank the man called Spike.
Having eyes to see is a gift
with that gift, you can read
read whatever books you like
then you may plant your seed
That seed can bear great fruit
which may produce abundant crops
within your mind, amazing things
opening books of knowledge never to stop
You may have a favourite subject
that you want to focus upon
which would be your goal in life
it may be your secret, simply anon
Books do clearly change lives
transformation does come with a book
words are the means to finding you
your destiny happening is no fluke
So travel down your right road
catch your flight on that plane
get on your bike and pedal hard
find your seat on your express train
This is your destined destination
a journey that leads to home location
Quote:
("Books are the plane, and the train, and the road. They are the destination, and the journey. They are home.”) ? Anna Quindlen (born 1952)
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')
Youth, I think it's time,
on your bike to climb
to rapture sublime.
Feel wind on your face,
freedom to embrace,
so that you may fly.
Watch the world go by -
on your two-wheeled high!
Turn left or turn right
to a newfound site.
The sun's a delight,
a shining jewel.
A beach trip is cool.
Take the day off school
and your pleasure, chase.
Youth, you must embrace.
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?
Self doubt
Disappear
No purpose do you serve
How dare you creep into my head
You have a bloody nerve!
You are not wanted
Get out of my brain
Dangerous and disliked
Disappear
Beat it….on your bike!
The England I knew
When I came to England in the seventies, I settled
in a dreadful town called Elsmere Port
the saving grace, it had a library and was near Chester
and Liverpool.
My education was a woeful lacking substance I took
classes in counselling, philosophy, literature and of all
thing acting, an art that always has fascinated me.
The chasm between workers and bosses was not deep
even the Tory party had a human face
Then came the catastrophe, in the form of a female
called Margarete Thatcher.
Greed is right; there is no society, and workers were
encouraged to buy their council homes and social
housing virtually stopped.
Factories closed “get on your bike” was the mantra
England stopped being a pleasant place to live.
It got worse; BREXIT came and tore Britain apart
people had been seduced to think it was patriotic
to vote for Brexit. (To take the country back)
The decline is for all to see, foodbanks and poverty
among riches, and it was with sorrow I saw the once
fine nation falls into cynicism. and the murder
of NHS, a pearl in a tattered crown
[Written with ‘Pickle Party’ contest in mind
but missed the deadline.]
[A pickle (USA) = A Gherkin (UK)]
———
Mr Gherkin from Great Britain
Met Miss Pickle, USA
A cross Atlantic soirée
That was going A Okay
He looked her up and down and said,
“So how are you today?”
She looked at him and said, “Terrific,
now you’ve come my way.”
He said, “I love your nice green skin.”
She said, “I like yours too,
alas you smell of vinegar,
a little like I do.”
He asked if they could meet again
She told him, “On your bike.”
She said, “I don’t think we would work,
we’re just too much alike.”
I, Love, Icecream
To me it is a favourite a dream
In a tub or on a cone
With my friends or all alone
Ever since I was a boy
The thought of one filled me with joy
I could never have enough
Of that lovely frozen stuff
You may say that I am odd
Eating icecream on my todd
But even now I'm all grown up
My love of icecream will not stop
So in my suit and favourite tie
I could have been that icecream guy
You may think what you like
Try to stop me - On your Bike !
the great You Tube purge
con tinues
free speech and expression
are being eradicated
2 of the banned You Tubers are
Tommy Robinson and Alex Jones
but there still remains
a certain individual
by the name of David Icke
does that make him payed opposition
is Mr Icke a fraud?
The first word there had to be - was BE, and that was the very first in existence
And from Genesis and Eden to Elsinore, it has had a remarkable degree of persistence
It seems that once BE had been exercised, the dam broke and words poured out as from a cornucopia.
And verbs would soon exist in an abundance enough to carry you from here to Ethiopia
Except in the culture of youth where it appears this multitude has been reduced to the deplorable "was like"
To them I am tempted to say: "Learn some real verbs"; OR I would employ a phrasal such as
'On-your-bike!'
The possibilities are now endless particularly if you include the phrasal
Giving us enough elan vital to at least maintain a metabolism basal
So to whoever first said BE, whether God or someone with similar propensities
though another name or description:
I say Well done! I couldn't in my wildest dreams with a wish to create a rich life and culture,
have produced a better prescription
20 August 2019
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.
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
The way it used to be
When I came to Liverpool in the seventies
I found a country in peace with itself,
the difference in income between workers and
the bosses were not extreme.
Living in England, I found my education woefully
lacking in substance and took classes in counselling,
philosophy and literature.
Then the catastrophe came in the form of Thatcher
or as she was called “the iron lady.”
greed is right, there is no society, and workers were
encouraged to buy their council homes and social
housing virtually stopped.
Factories closed, “get on your bike” was the mantra
and Britain ceased to be a pleasant land.
It has gone worse the Brexit came about workers
tired of the wealthy’s abuse, living on wages that were
too small to feed a family and we got the shameful
food-banks which the conservative now boats about
Like it was invented by them. Yes, it was!
It is with sorrow I see how the once proud country
Has fallen down into a beggar state.
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.
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