Month: May 2015
Special Bike
Special Bike
Every bike is special.
Specially the bike you ride
That isn’t specialized
For one thing or another.
It should take you there
With no fan fare and back.
It’s a tool you care for,
That makes sense seeing
Where you put it each time
You ride, no hiding that fact.
Pedal wheels and seat.
Come on lets go down the street.
A Bike Shop
Strictly speaking on the subject of bikes
I find there is very little that I donts likes
Strictly speaking I have no need to go in
I marvel at the smiles and welcomes
Strictly amused at all the things I finds
That aren’t bikes in a store for rides
Strictly sweaty and sore of feet
A welcome adjustment to my cleat
Strictly sore at the counter I rest
And enjoy the espresso, where’s the zest
Strictly speaking the talk is more than
Carbon weaves, the business, I’m a fan
Strictly love what you do and it will
Include the passion for others and fill
The world with better people
Strictly speaking from the saddle on the road.
Presently
Presently my pedal creeks
My bar steers at an angle
Never mind the squeaks
A chain, and paint dangle
Oh, I am not a freak
Its old, not new fandangle.
Tires and tube a little leak
Strong rear triangle
Life rolls along each week
Best not to mangle
That which we all seek
The Jersey
The jersey is not from Jersey
Nor Guernsey, Surrey, or Ashtabula
A new jersey from New Jersey
Would be odder than old hopscotch
In Old Oshkosh.
The cloth is much much thinner
Than a sweatshirt made over in China
But no one really cares or reads
All the logos signs and letters
Unless you sit in the back
And marvel at the wonders of colors
Not much point in wearing
But still you match
Bar tape to wheels and hat.
Dam the Dew
Dam the dew on the road
The dew on the road that
Made my tire slide from under
Me. The tire slid and I did too
On my hip and gloved hands
I could be glad it was not only dew
The dew on the road lifting the oily
Residue that was so slippy
No torn cloth or scrapes but a bruise
The color of, okay I’ll say it, grapes
After nursing my pride I took
That turn of dew and fearfully
Slowed to stay upright
And now each time I dread to pass
Even moderately slow
Dam that dew on the road.
ride with no pants
the need for nylon is important
because my bike is carbon aero fast
my skinny jeans is all i need
i’ll mash the pedals and beat your light
heels and skirt i’ll still go
dresses and hair in a bow
if my skin could pin i’d race naked
instead i have logos on tight jerseys
no obsession other than it roll
i’ll find it fun with out heed
She Was In White
She was in white, from helmet to toe
Cycling gear at first glance, yet her shorts
Showed her skin neither pale or tan in style
Through a mesh stripe down the side.
The white bandana around her head
And the clacking shoes in an unsteady gate
Made me think she was trying out biking
With a statement of color for the escape
From her black outfits and a life in the city.
She had a coach who had guided her thus
Jovial, professional, not suitor or lover
Then I saw her again, in white, more steady
Riding her own pace precise, the chaperone gone
I could not tell if she were heading out or heading home
It was a proper ride of distance and hills either way
The last time I saw her the white jacket and shorts
Had a brown stripe on the back, and the white bandana
Was covering her nose and face speckled with mud
In the sky more rain was to come and then I knew
She was determined, white kit or not, to ride and
I felt shame for sitting in my car, out from the city.
Riding on Wheels
Wheel wheel, wheel wheel.
Wheel wheel, wheel wheel,
I ride with some friends
Wheel wheel I go by
We pass two couples.
Wheel wheel, wheel wheel, wheel wheel, wheel wheel
And give encouragement going up a hill to a amputee
Wheel wheel, wheel wheel, wheel wheel wheel, wheel wheel
We roll along
Wheel wheel, wheel wheel, wheel wheel, wheel wheel,
Wheel wheel
A fancy carbon bike use by someone who is just learning
Wheel wheel.
A family of on cruiser bikes
Wheel wheel, wheel wheel, wheel wheel, wheel
Six kids on BMX bikes we pass
Wheel wheel, wheel wheel, wheel wheel, wheel wheel, wheel wheel, wheel wheel
A good ride, as I turn onto my street
Unlikely but not unusual
Unicycle rolling along smoothly
Wheel
Vastness Vanishes
Flat farm land
Roads vanishing to a point
Neither a beginning nor end.
A mark of vastness of Nature
We think otherwise and look
For roads to follow.
Round hills and trees
Roads dip and curve
Home around the next bend
Following blindly what is ahead
Or behind.