Circique

The lane banks away

From sweat in the eyes.

Smooth wood dreams swoop

The circique motion, like

The hand in the air dotting an i

Can the feet circique in circles

About the single spindle and whirling arms.

The mono tone sine and eclectic eccentric

Pulls and yearns for the circique escape.

Unbound a straight left turn turning

About and broken a way away

My circique road

Before my eyes open.

Roll a long

Its a fine day, to roll along

Its a fine day, to roll along

Someone watching I don’t know who

Someone watching it could by you

Roll along boys, roll along

Roll along, roll along

It is a long day, my work is done

It is a long day, I suffer from

Roll along boys, roll along

Roll along, roll along

I can dream lord and still I hide

I can dream lord but still I ride

Roll a long boys, roll along

Roll along, roll along

The time is dear, to you and me

The time is dear, to you and me

Roll a long boys, roll along

Roll along, boys, roll along

Yo-yo Legs

 

My rubber legs push down

they stop and wobble fitfully

then past a point sure and strong

Only to become rubber again

I yo-yo and flit along unsteady

As a gust of wind may flap a flag

for a moment then lay limp

I can do better, I push again

Yo-yo along on rubber legs

Maybe the next day, I try

to fool myself thinking.

It will take a hard pull to break

the yo yo string of rubber flesh.

A sustained pull and push past

normal habits, routines, and 10 mile

sprints twice a week. But Spring is

up ahead and I will chase it down

And time will not be measured

In frost bitten hands or feet.

But in that fleeting pace forgetting

the yo yo legs, and ups and downs

Of speed instead of elevations.

The hills will beckon the legs

And the legs will level the road

Soon, very soon after yo-yos

and I’ll change rubber to rod.

And power metaphors will

Then circle about.

Passion Joy

The objects of desire just away

As impermanent as a thought

Lingering to capture past joys

Why the passion for two wheels?

The same passion

For rubies or buttons

Any object

That might get lost or go away.

A mistake or purpose?

The wheel always hangs over its center

Falling forward or backward at the slightest touch.

Touch, centered, passion, joy.

Got it!