Cycle Song

Unicycle, tricycle, icicle fie
Fal la de, di did delly, do da die
Lunar cycle, motorcycle, menstrual tie
Shursbury Burberry Barbary Pie
Fal la de, di did delly, do da die
All hub bub is wrapped in rope
Shorts and spoke speaks to the Pope
Fal la de, di did delly, do da die
Fal la de, di did delly, do da die

one more time

Unicycle, tricycle, icicle fie.
Fal la de, di did delly, do da die
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When Wench

Swing a wrench and have your fun
Ply the pliers and grip the wire
T wench, socket, tork screw
Axle nut adjustment tight and right
Rim tape, bar tape farrel ends and hoods
Details and cables all become simple
Once the break down happens the need
To get home invents the mind to function
Chains and gears want the care of focus
Easy to ride and not feel the drag, until
The squeak calls out for lubing
Clean it feed it bathe it in oil
The mechanics of bikes are simple
The work is kinky in dirtying hands
Give in to the need and change the tire
Replace the breaks, ask and see the
Habitual detail methods used by pros or
A ingenuous use for necessity that works
And give a helping hand in the end
To the poor sod without a clue to get home.

Kindred Spirit

Commuters some regular some periodic

With ubiquitous eclectic outfits in comfort to each

Talk of weather, bikes and road hassles.

Even the accidents and close calls, we are familiar but unknown to each other.

I see a strong rider ahead, was he the one with the bandana under the helmet

Long, lean and fierce maybe even a churlish grin, seen back on the ferry?

Maybe it was an unknown chase to catch a draft with well matched legs or the next time to spy ahead

Only to be left by a sudden turn to an unknown destination.

Who spoke first is unimportant but we laughed, admired, rode, waited, till next time.

Each respecting the others timing and destination then rode not so feverishly.

Some times giving the draft sometimes taking it, silently

A parting, “see you tomorrow, or not” other parts of life unknown.

There were months of rain, wind, stories on life and what we do, how it went.

A candid intimacy of a friend, unburdened by childish wants, bespoke by the joy.

Plans for new rides, exploring, bonking, riding, never forced. Then the parting of life

A job, new place yet a phone number left, reminded and the hello – because.

A node in time or a surprise holiday call, who calls first, unimportant

And is, in words, the innocuous iconic bond.

DO

Do

Hebo Freedom

Bicycle riding hands

Occupied for the right

Direction both mind and spirit

Sync the motion ideas that counter

Excess, heat, hate, violence, irksome rage, empty

Of life thoughts blind to sake of nurture

Unguided by the big picture overly directed by small

Lofty, derivative, juxtaposed wit in ink not likely found till

Too high a price is paid in lives, ideas

Harmony. Condemn not nor fight. Pun not punish

Fall, write back up, ride, no matter

You, press is on, walk, wheel

Write, wine, woman, song, dance

Together on all counts

That matter most

Service, forgive

Love

Do You Bonk

Whet do I bonk
Do you bonk
I bonk and bonk but thonght
To be able to joint the fishes
Oh the wall, that break you
Bonk it bonk and no bonk about it
No go, like pushing rope there is nothing

Bonking bonking boffing boffing

Maybe tired but still going burbing to bonk

The tire is near end so far from a hean

I cank feel the normal sort bean

It’s a lean forward sort of hold back bonking

Always up a hill but most pronounced

When all is clear flat not as attire of skin suit

The slightly down hill yet no muster for an easy spin

Silent amazement at having nothing but visions

Going backward being passed by unicycles and joggers

The bonk is not even a notion, the mind will not understand

And legs can’t stand it then, the salamander of tissue

Grows and after some eon of time, the motion is easier

Never the same till you stop, eat, sleep and then

Oh the bonk that’s what it was, never to be forgotten.

Driven

Driven driver

Ride rider

Hard harder exhaustion

Race to be, be racy

Velodrome desire round the oval

A chase, spirit sprint rubber pitched to the floor.

Ramp up and down single cog spinning

Weighted legs, burst lungs, fixed on time

Ahead, behind, the last push to line.

A simple track, bike and no hills

Headwinds your own making and draft

A subtle change detected and off

Pound push, pull, pick the line

Pedal feet, head, shoulders, legs

It takes it all to fly and fly alone

Win or loose, an oval all desire to race.

Winters Ride

A thread connects the head to the toes

That curl under the feet from the cold.

The fingers retract in their gloved coverings

The ears stand and take the punishment

My face feels numb but the heat

Is melting the sleet

Steam comes from my neck opening

Still I move one lung many pulses

Foggy behind glasses of salty dew

Daring to sight through reductions

Of multiple magnifying droplets.

Soon, very soon, I can stop, its not far

To a warm shower, a warm drink

The best thing is to have no choice,

Weather comes and goes and I pass through.

Repair natty clothes to keep warm

Oil chain to stay quiet in snow.

Move through dim dawn clouds

And soak the brief sun rays between

Day building minutes to night.