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A Well-wisher offered me a Bicycle!

Dear Friends,
My tumbledown car
Ran to the junk yard!
And a Well-wisher
Offered me a Bicycle!
I start my journey again
Along the gravel roads.
And I changed my resume.
Please do not laugh
And I have submitted my humble application
For the post of Postman with my bike.
That may go to the History
An old Postman with a Bicycle in America!
And I promise you all to deliver New Year greetings
Without any delay,
If everything goes smoothly!

* To the desolated Lion in my dream that requested a poem.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Please Mr. Postman

( stop )
Oh yes, wait a minute
Mister postman
( wait )
Wait mister postman
(*) please mister postman look and see
( oh yeah )
If there's a letter in your bag for me
( please, please, mister postman )
Why's it takin' such a long time
( oh yeah )
For me to hear from that boy of mine
There must be
Some word today
From my boyfriend
So far away
Please mister postman
Look and see
If there's a letter
A letter for me
I've been standin' here
Waitin' mister postman
So patiently
For just a card
Or just a letter
Sayin' he's returning'
Home to me
Repeat (*)
So many days
You passed me by
See the tears
Standin' in my eyes
You didn't stop
To make me feel better
By leavin' me
A card or a letter
Repeat (*)
( why don't you check it and see one more time
For me you gotta )
Wait a minute, wait a minute...
( mister postman )
Mister postman look and see
( c'mon deliver the letter, the sooner, the better )
Mister postman

song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lightning Strikes The Postman

I got yer letter it had turned to sand, lighting strikes the postman in
His hand, I hope that you remember the things you had to say, its just
A supernatural delay... I got yer package it was all a mess, lightning strikes
The postman in his chest, I hope that you remember the things you
Had to
Say, its just a supernatural delay...
I sent you a postcard and I hope yer fine
But lightning strike the postman all the time
I couldnt really think of anything to say
Its just a supernatural delay,
And its hard to read the writing through the flames...

song performed by by Flaming Lips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My White Bicycle

My white bicycle, my white bicycle
Riding all around the street
Four oclock and theyre all asleep
Im not tired and its so late
Moving fast everything looks great.
My white bicycle, my white bicycle
See that man, hes all alone
Looks so happy but hes far from home
Ring my bell, smile at him
Better kick over his garbage bin
My white bicycle, my white bicycle
The rain comes down but I dont care
The wind is blowing in my hair
Seagulls flying in the air
My white bicycle
Lead:
Policeman shouts but I dont see him
Theyre one thing I dont believe in
Find some judge, but its not leavin
Lift both hands, his head in disgrace
Shines no light upon my face
Through the darkness, we still speed
My white bicycle and me
My white bicycle, my white bicycle
(burgess/west)
Getaway music
Copyright 1975 nazareth (dunfermline) ltd

song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Bicycle Poem

do not worry how the bicycle looks
ride it.
do not think how the wheel and its
spokes work
do not attempt to understand its structure
ride it.

do not think how the other people looks at
you with your bicycle
just ride it.

when you are riding it already
just feel the joy of the air that meets your face
the speed by which it takes you
to another destination

just ride it, disembark when you get there
you do not even have to own it and keep it for the rest of your life

when you get old
remember that bicycle that once gave you all the joys of riding

before you die
give it to the young

they shall have their own joys too
riding it

and perhaps they will write a poem about you
or if not
about the bicycle at least
who knows?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The journey of life is like a man riding a bicycle. We know he got on the bicycle and started to move. We know that at some point he will stop and get off. We know that if he stops moving and does not get off he will fall off.

quote by William Golding
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Please Mr Postman

Wait, oh yes wait a minute mister postman
Wait, wait mister postman
Mister postman look and see
You got a letter in your bag for me
I been waiting such a long time
Since I heard from that girl of mine
There must be some word today
From my girlfriend so far away
Please mister postman look and see
If there's a letter, a letter for me
I been standing here waiting mister postman
So patiently
For just a card or just a letter
Saying she's returning home to me
So many days you passed me by
See the tear standing in my eye
You didn't stop to make me feel better
By leaving me a card or a letter
You gotta wait a minute, wait a minute
You gotta wait a minute, wait a minute
You gotta wait a minute, wait a minute
You gotta check it and see, one more time for me
Wait
Wait
Wait
Deliver the letter, the sooner the better
Wait

song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Please Mister Postman

Wait, oh yes wait a minute mister postman
Wait, wait mister postman
Mister postman look and see
You got a letter in your bag for me
I been waiting such a long time
Since i heard from that girl of mine
There must be some word today
From my girlfriend so far away
Please mister postman look and see
If there's a letter, a letter for me
I been standing here waiting mister postman
So patiently
For just a card or just a letter
Saying she's returning home to me
So many days you passed me by
See the tear standing in my eye
You didn't stop to make me feel better
By leaving me a card or a letter
You gotta wait a minute, wait a minute
You gotta wait a minute, wait a minute
You gotta wait a minute, wait a minute
You gotta check it and see, one more time for me
Wait
Wait
Wait
Deliver the letter, the sooner the better
Wait

song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red BMX Bicycle

There was a small boy
In the countryside
Who had a small red BMX bicycle
Kept in the store besides the herbicides
Every evening like a cycle
He would ride down the dusty road
The sun a yellow ball
on the west side
Glittering under the sun`s rays
Was that small
RED BMX BICYCLE
There was a smaller boy
In the countryside
Who had nothing…
Totally nothing
He was a friend to the small boy
Every evening like a cycle
He would wait by the dusty road
To have a chance
On the small red BMX bicycle
His face would be all smiles
Even after falling off that
RED BMX BICYCLE
One day at dusk
The smaller boy
Stood next to the small boy
And asked
“When you grow up, would you give me this bike? ”
The small boy without thinking
Said YES..
There was a smaller boy
In the countryside
One night
He had a bad stomach ache
His mum wiping the tiny streams of tears
That fell from his small face
That was pale…
Due to dust from the dusty road
As he played with his the small boy
And rode on that
RED BMX BICYCLE
There was a small boy
In the countryside…
Now HE is all grown
And in the university
Far away in the city
That RED BMX BICYCLE
Now long gone
Given to some relative, I guess
If I could go back
To those days…
Those days with beautiful sunsets
Back in the countryside
Waiting for my chance
On my red BMX bicycle
Watching that smaller boy fall off
I would give him…
I would hand him that bicycle
And never expect it back
And watch him ride
Towards the beautiful sunset
On my red BMX bicycle
But if I can go back
All will be in vain
Because on that night…in the dark
He struggled with pain
His small heart couldn`t keep on
Outside there was rain
The gods possibly wanted to cleanse
All the evil that night
That took him away
Now I reminisce
As I keep moving on
About that smaller boy
And our small
RED BMX BICYCLE…

poem by Paul Oguda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wicked Postman

Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me,
mother dear?
The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all
wet, and you don't mind it.
Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother
to come home from school.
What has happened to you that you look so strange?
Haven't you got a letter from father today?
I saw the postman bringing letters in his bag for almost
everybody in the town.
Only father's letters he keeps to read himself. I am sure the
postman is a wicked man.
But don't be unhappy about that, mother dear.
Tomorrow is market day in the next village. You ask your maid
to buy some pens and papers.
I myself will write all father's letters; you will not find
a single mistake.
I shall write from A right up to K.
But, mother, why do you smile?
You don't believe that I can write as nicely as father does!
But I shall rule my paper carefully, and write all the letters
beautifully big.
When I finish my writing do you think I shall be so foolish
as father and drop it into the horrid postman's bag?
I shall bring it to you myself without waiting, and letter by
letter help you to read my writing.
I know the postman does not like to give you the really nice
letters.

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What That Little Boy Was Praying For

Evening
Sun is almost set
Its weak beams still
Making road side sand grains glitter
I was on a walk to a temple nearby
A scratching brake of a bicycle
Made me look up
A boy of not even ten years the bicycle rider
Stopped his bicycle
In front of the temple entrance
Not getting down form it
Closed his eyes, clasped his palms
Started a prayer
He was in that posture
For much longer than
What a passerby normally does
Turning curious I continued to watch him
Forgetting for a while my purpose of this walk
Since the boy was in the middle
Of that narrow lane
A car stopped behind him
A bike passed by him
Sounding a shrill horn
A street dog barked at the bike
Car also gave a horn
Nothing left in the boy any sign of disturbance
It would have been a full minute
Before the boy woke up to realities
And started his ride
Without even glancing those
Who were watching him
I left the scene and entered the temple
What that little boy was praying for

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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democracy in the Philippine islands

there is this little boy
who is practicing to ride a big bike
his feet are short
and so are his hands
and always
in this predicament
does he fall and tumble

the years passed
and it is the same boy again
practicing to ride his
big bicycle

sometimes i am just curious
what is this boy
eating and drinking
since his feet are still short
and his hands are still small
he never had the guts
riding his bicycle to the full

it is the same situation all over again
he falls and bleeds
and cries that the bicycle is always too big for his
short feet and small hands

he falls and he tumbles
he bleeds and he fails

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Sick Child

The postman comes when I am still in bed.
"Postman, what do you have for me today?"
I say to him. (But really I'm in bed.)
Then he says - what shall I have him say?

"This letter says that you are president
Of - this word here; it's a republic."
Tell them I can't answer right away.
"It's your duty." No, I'd rather just be sick.

Then he tells me there are letters saying everything
That I can think of that I want for them to say.
I say, "Well, thank you very much. Good-bye."
He is ashamed, and turns and walks away.

If I can think of it, it isn't what I want.
I want . . . I want a ship from some near star
To land in the yard, and beings to come out
And think to me: "So this is where you are!

Come." Except that they won't do,
I thought of them. . . . And yet somewhere there must be
Something that's different from everything.
All that I've never thought of - think of me!

poem by Randall Jarrell
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Midnight Fast Approaches

You may want to avoid those twilight years,
To gain any lingering compliments that may come.
But I will say this...
If you can remember 'anything' that occured in the '30's?
Midnight fast approaches.
And the dog only barks at you,
When you are 'not' wearing makeup!
And you've had him for fifteen years!
Even the postman has requested we display
A 'Beware' sign in the yard on Wednesdays...
His day off!
Honey,
I am not being sarcastic.
You do not need 'another' facelift!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In fifth Avenue

In the mornings I see Jane passing
and how she walks away,
in the street
and gets smaller and smaller in the distance

The lingering afternoon hours
slowly past
and the postman
draws the barking dogs,
before he rides leisurely
away with his bicycle.

When the sun gets low in the late afternoon
and I park behind the house,
I hear a gate opening
and she greets while she walks by.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The bicycle, the bicycle surely, should always be the vehicle of novelists and poets.

quote by Christopher Morley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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South Carolina

The other day my neighbor has a dented bike
Second day he called me from intensive care
Says he needs a picture of the dented bike
For the evidence of what a wreck he had
Accident
Accident
Lift that fork, eat that snail
Garcon summoned, have a new cocktail
Lift that fork, eat that snail
Garcon summoned, have a new cocktail
Crash my bicycle
Crash my bicycle
In a big south carolina wreck
I crash my bicyle
Crash my bicycle
Crash my bicycle
In a big south carolina wreck
I crash my bicyle
And I won some damages and they were punitive
By which I mean the punishment was damaging
It crushed my head
It crushed my head
Garcon, wheres my drink?
Wreck!
Observe the front wheel spinning upside down
Wreck!
The red reflector fragments strewn around
Wreck!
The back wheels o is now a letter d
Wreck!
I was an i and now I am a v
Lift that fork, eat that snail
Garcon summoned, have a new cocktail
Lift that fork, eat that snail
Garcon summoned, have a new cocktail
Crash my bicycle
Crash my bicycle
In a big south carolina wreck
I crash my bicyle
Crash my bicycle
Crash my bicycle
In a big south carolina wreck
I crash my bicyle
If I had to do it all again, buy* bicycle
If I had to do it, I would crash my bicycle
Id crush my head
Collect the bread
Crash my bicycle
Move along folks
Push her back there, move along
Shows over, folks
Let him breathe, step lively
Move along folks
Push her back there, move along
Shows over, folks
Let him breathe, step lively
Fork (fork)
Snail (snail)
Garcon (garcon)
Cocktail (cocktail)
Fork (fork)
Snail (snail)
Garcon (garcon)
Cocktail (cocktail)
Move along folks
Push her back there, move along
Shows over, folks
Let him breathe, step lively
Move along folks
Push her back there, move along
Shows over, folks
Let him breathe, step lively
Move along folks
Push her back there, move along
Shows over, folks
Let him breathe, step lively
Move along folks
Push her back there, move along
Shows over, folks
Let him breathe, step lively
Move along folks
Push her back there, move along
Shows over, folks
Let him breathe, step lively
Move along folks
Push her back there, move along
Shows over, folks
Let him breathe, step lively
Move along folks
Push her back there, move along
Shows over, folks
Let him breathe, step lively
Move along folks
Push her back there, move along
Shows over, folks
Let him breathe, step lively

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Postman

I'd like to be a postman, and walk along the street,
Calling out, 'Good Morning, Sir,' to gentlemen I meet,
Ringing every door-bell all along my beat,
In my cap and uniform so very nice and neat.
Perhaps I'd have a parasol in case of rain or heat;
But I wouldn't be a postman if ...
The walking hurt my feet.
Would you?

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Postman

My eyes are ticking towards door
I am restless and rolling on floor
I have spent sleepless night
So much to loose without any fight

In olden days, the postman was prime figure
We will run towards him for making it sure
The letter must be delivered in our hand
Else it would be love failure with tragic end

She had promised me to write in return
I had seen in her eyes clear positive turn
She was very much willing and eager
I too felt the same and became anxious either

I heard the footsteps of old man with post bag
He was inching forward by wearing the postman’s tag
He was addressed as postman uncle
Very honored figure and known in circle

He is fortune teller for all
Good smile comes at letters arrival
No one ignores this gentleman but always welcome
As he is the medium for all good or bad things to come

He is the only one man in entire village
Known as calm person having come off with the age
Has spent entire life and ably managed
You can depict him as most wanted man on page

There may be many more waiting for good news
Some may be very eager to receive the dues
Some may be waiting for the quick reviews
As a whole he wanted by all and not by few

I still remember his mild smile
He had brought a letter which had traveled from miles
It carried my soul mate’s sentiments
How happy was I when received with those comments?

Even if I have to pay any special homage
I shall do it for him and inscribe as sage
No one can deliver the happiness and smile
As he does it for society and village as well

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Not Post Your Poem Here

Do not post your poem here
Unless you've something worth a say!
You must not waste a space like this,
For space can waste away!

Do not post your poem here
With words which make no sense!
Be careful when you post it here
That you use the proper tense!

Do not post your poem here
Just to fill a space with words!
A poem should be well thought out,
Was it meant to be absurd?

Do not post your poem here
If in cliches you would write.
A poem should be fresh, yes sharp -
You'll know when it's just right!

Do not post your poem here
Just to see yourself in print.
You're wasting others time you know
With such, self centred stints!

I wil not post my poem here,
This one does not exist,
But did I tell you at the start
That I'm a nihilist?

poem by Joe Hughes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I can bicycle, I bicycle.

quote by David Attenborough
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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