Fixing to rise
Giddy-up now, friend, don't delay
Fixin' to ride
Where the silver morning sun plays
On the range, I keep the wild ways
Let's go forth together today
Fixin' to ride
Fixing to rise
Giddy-up, my friend, don't delay
Fixin' to ride
Where golden morning sunlight plays
Across the range, we'll ride freely
Let's chase the open sky today
Fixin' to ride
Fixing to thrive
Giddy-up, Cowboy, don't you delay
Fixin' to ride
Where the desert moonlight can play
With sunset and hearts runnin' free
We'll leave some tracks behind today
Fixin' to ride
Fixin' to brighten the sky!
boy of eighteen driving a restless volkswagen
riding the hot clutch at kellogg street and grand
finding cool music by santana on the tune dex
finding tanned chicks in bikinis riding stingrays
riding cool like cats cruising for cheeseburgers
blond surfer chicks wearing beads from mexico
hitchhiking at noon for a ride to San Bernardino
bumming cigarettes with cleavages and lipstick
seeking bootleg kisses in the front seat of a ford
rapping stories about the rolling stones concert
talking tales of fuzz box nookie in the parking lot
boy of eighteen cruising the big circle in corona
riding the hot clutch at kellogg street and grand
Every time I sit, really just sit
I'm reminded that this
is enough
to let it go and just settle
without expectation
but alert awareness
here and now.
Enlightenment, liberation, grace, peace etc.
whatever we call it - the ideal we're aiming for -
isn't a matter of building or achieving
or a process of developing or becoming
it is instead what we naturally have
when we stop the building,
relax the grasping.
Yet it is easier said than done
especially when we're young
and our ability, our habit, our desire
to grasp is so strong.
And so we use that desire
homeopathically
to grasp and really hold
until exhaustion.
And then instead of holding such ideals
and concepts, and methods
so tightly
just let them go.
Or if we must
hold the concept like the reins of
a wind horse
gently, delicately between two fingers
ever ready to release
in this
complete moment.
And simply sit, just sit
and trust that that is enough.
(First published in my 2016 book, Little Pine)
The earth below fades to a distant haze,
As I ascend beyond the rush of days.
I catch the current, seamless, cool, and strong,
Where skyward rivers pull my path along.
I stretch my wings and tilt into the bend,
Where draft and motion effortlessly blend.
To ride the rushing wind is pure delight—
A boundless devotion to the gift of flight.
No friction drags, no gravity can hold,
As endless skies of sapphire blue unfold.
I love the freedom in this weightless stream,
Forever soaring high inside the dream.
Juliet asked, “What’s in a name?”
and, methinks I shall do the same.
What have; Bo-Peep, Boy Blue, Jack Horner,
Miss Muffet, Poll Parrot, Red Riding Hood,
Robin Redbreast and Tommy Tucker
in common, scale-wise, that's underststood?
As none of them are related,
the subject may seem brittle,
altho' not small, or what I call 'tall',
one and all, they are 'Little'.
Figure of Eight got me thinking
It's infinity on its side!
Eight days a week, I rode till dawn.
Slipping behind eight ball's shadow.
On Cloud Eight, with just one to come.
While strumming eight-note blues on drums;
I figured eight had found me out~
Swirling around its loopty-loops.
Riding bikes is fun and easy. You feel a breeze when you ride a bike. You can go steady and slow or quick and fast on a bike. Biking is so much fun for everyone.
I am very, very, very
Fond of riding on the ferry.
There’s no traffic on the river,
So it’s easy to deliver
All the riders when expected
From the boats they have selected.
Up on top, the ride is breezy,
But in any seat, it’s easy
To gaze out at your surroundings
While the vessel’s leaps and boundings
Take you all around the city
For a taste of nitty-gritty.
Passengers of all persuasions
Ride for various occasions –
Workers heading to employment,
Tourist seeking pure enjoyment.
People-watching is rewarding.
Check out strangers while they’re boarding.
Hear the accents from their nations;
Eavesdrop on some conversations.
Ditch the subway, bus or taxi;
Turn your mini journey maxi
And your mood from tense to merry.
Hop on board a New York ferry!
In the dim and distant past, i cycled around
Slow and fast, past sleepy houses, on small city blocks.' In the morning fresh when its not yet hot ' sometimes a daring
Cat shot in front, aloof and sleek, no play for me then on bots..I recall the rich sent of
Fresh cut lawn, before the day would swallow, this placid morn' i recall milk bottles sitting on front door stoops, as pidgeons scattering, as the hawk broke loose, out a of a blue yonder, with whistling
Wings, echoing the sound of my bike wheels, as i turn for home i hear the church
Bell ring.'
Ridin' horses in the twilight.
My fate's to wear starred cowboy hats!
I'm on the road all day-n-night.
Receivin' a bright moonlight bath.
I've been travellin' this long dark path.
Will be ridin' till all's made right.
I've gotta calm the inner wrath.
Ridin' horses in the twilight.
The sun going down is a sight.
Makes me wanna have a quick chat,
But my horse keeps ridin' with might.
My fate's to wear starred cowboy hats.
Cowboys don't need to carry maps.
They ride on into the black night,
And bathe in moonlight after laps.
I'm on the road all day and night!
Flyin' high on my horse in flight!
If there's a fuss, I'll stop all that.
Riden' high to escape the strife.
Receivin' a bright starlight bath!
Just thought I saw a blue bobcat!
But ain't no cause to feel no fright.
Cause this is my true habitat!
And I'm lovin' my lucky life!
Ridin' horses is my birthright.
[Chorus]
I'm gonna keep on ridin' on yonder.
Yep! The Grand Canyon's awaitin'....
The cowboy's Rondeau Redouble!
He flops at rest stops
hid by other sleeping truckers.
He likes the loneliness
as the cab windows gradually mist over
with smokey stars.
Rolling on,
cities of light flare upwards
and beneath them
are the unseen, the dead eyed
that hide under a metro-glare.
Amarillo, Detroit, Tacoma, Richmond,
places packed and stacked
with broken dreams and loose ends.
Just driving; hauling and honking.
No one looking.
Launderettes and liquor stores,
five finger fandangos in the back,
chicken wings and Jack D.
Atlantic City, Apalachicola,
soaking in the slipstream
while America looks somewhere else.
What are you watching America?
Sometimes he thinks
only the coyotes are paying attention.
Roads thread through his fingers.
The Great Lakes shimmer,
Rockies rear-up and ripple,
all those dust painted
played-out rural towns,
the roads are his tunnel
through both beauty and depredation.
Old men on roadside benches
stare unphased by his air horn blare'
as if he himself were an 18-wheeled
rolling exhibit of America itself,
yet no one looks long enough
to care.
Retirement so far out of reach I'm just riding out my life
it was autumn and the leaves were everywhere
the bunny rider came out of the skies, without a care
her steed was white with enormously large teeth
and bunny ears that flopped above and beneath
he had a sidekick, his cousin small pink bunny boy
treated him with respect, and yet, he was like a toy
the bunny rider’s hair was flowing, red as the leaves
they flew through the air, next to my steed named Jeeves
Jeeves is a goat, and he could hardly keep up with them.
They are so fast! He lamented. His face was sad and grim.
We can ride along side, they are our friends, I said.
The bunny rider’s hair was maple leaf color, truly red.
Mr Wems Temmy!
Riding on a bicycle...
Will you want to carry me?
Mr Wems Temmy!
Jump on!
Miss Blessing,
Jump on!
Mr Wems Temmy!
Every stroke
On the pedals
Is against my will
To move on...
As the echoes
All in my head
Keep radiating
Her voice like voices
Of unrest frogs at night
Her words poke
My legs backpedals
Motionlessly still
Conscience swan
Heartbeats skip airflows
Mouth's words unsaid
Opened up initiating
My mind's closet choices
Into an awesome delight
Lonely, I share the mystery
Dancing to the echoed tune
Up with its low tone going high
Nouns into verbs imperatively
Makes me mastered them all
Yet absent is the face that speaks
Isn't this mind adultery?
Thinking of sandy wind's dune
Near the lake of my heart's sigh
Romancing her far mind imaginatively
Of how possible weather naturally fall
Cum constant changes techniques
Upon this weary thought
My mind embraces the puzzle
Of every tight filled storm fought
Watered mind's sighs thoughts guzzle
And again, I heard...
Mr Wems Temmy!
Riding on a bicycle...
Will you want to carry me?
Mr Wems Temmy!
Jump on!
Miss Blessing,
Jump on!
Mr Wems Temmy!
radio blaring
new york city cab driver
many near misses
horrified riders
being jerked and terrified
in backseat praying
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