Learning
a little brown boy
perhaps aged three
is learning
how to ride his
bike
the father bought
a bike
taller than the boy
but the boy
has passion
breaks his bones
suffers the bruises
just to learn
this new skill
he rides on top of the
bike unable to reach
the brake
and he laughs at all this
not seeking
any help.
there he falls again
on the ground.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dirt Bike
Here comes the dirt bike
Beware of the dirt bike
Because I hear theyre coming to our town
Theyve got plans for everyone
And now I hear theyre over their sophomore jinx, so you had better check it out
All hail the dirt bike
Philosopher dirt bike
Silence as we gathered round
We saw the word and were on our way
Now its
Brain washing dirt bike
Ground shaking dirt bike
Mind bending dirt bike
In control
Soul crushing dirt bike
Self propelled dirt bike
You see I never thought Id understand
til that bike took me by the hand
Now I ride
Ride
Ride
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Bike Is Just A Bike
A bike is just a bike
It can take you for a riding hike
A bike is just a bike
With a motorcycle it is a look alike
A bike is just a bike
When you ride it you feel childlike
But there is something I dislike
It is hard to impress and make a good strike
Two wheels and one seat available for hitchhike
Your charming words will have a declined spike
Therefore it is best to leave the bike for the dikes
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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The bike must go - a song
Got to keep the engine running - My soul's on fire
Like to see my baby - my one desire
Can't help this feeling it's hard to explain
It hurts my heart it gives me pain
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go
Riding through the city streets, with my leathers on
Looking cool in black as the day is long
I can't quite understand it but my baby's wrong
Plugged into her Ipod and listening to her song
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go.
She's driving me crazy with her stance
And I'm sure she's taking me for a dance
When she says I hate it - it's like doing time
Then she looks at me and says
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go.
There's no way around it, can't persuade her n-o more,
it'll be a pity but what can I do?
Sooner or later she's got to see
The bike's for cruising with her and me
And she says:
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go
How can she be so cruel when I love her so
I tried ever thing to please her that I know
Got to keep my baby on the wild side
And she looks into my eyes and says
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go
I love my baby like a dog chewing a bone
I called her this morning on the telephone,
There's no way around it
I tried my best
There's nothing more to say except
The bike must go
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go.
*I turned this poem into a song which you can listen to on Youtube or google. Just type 'the bike must go' Enjoy.
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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Bike Ride To The Moon
Push me off to start the fun
On a bike ride to the moon
Lots of room for everyone
On a bike ride to the moon
And well bring back cheese for my auntie jane
And some magic moon dust thatll stop the rain
On my poor uncle alfreds head, even though he stays in bed (silly alfred)
Why not bring a pot of tea
On a bike ride to the moon
Angel cake for you and me
On a bike ride to the moon
And well pack a tent case its cold at night
And Ill share your sleeping bag if I might
And might be a positive boon
To protect you from the man in the moon (who happens to be me, look out!)
Racing forward cant look back
On a bike ride to the moon
What did I omit to pack
On a bike ride to the moon?
With the stars all glinting in the shiny chrome
Then I suddenly remembered what I left at home
Now I shant be peddling any higher
cos a sharp sputnik has given me a cosmic flat tyre
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bike Ride To The Moon
Push me off to start the fun
On a bike ride to the moon
Lots of room for everyone
On a bike ride to the moon
And well bring back cheese for my auntie jane
And some magic moon dust thatll stop the rain
On my poor uncle alfreds head, even though he stays in bed (silly alfred)
Why not bring a pot of tea
On a bike ride to the moon
Angel cake for you and me
On a bike ride to the moon
And well pack a tent case its cold at night
And Ill share your sleeping bag if I might
And might be a positive boon
To protect you from the man in the moon (who happens to be me, look out!)
Racing forward cant look back
On a bike ride to the moon
What did I omit to pack
On a bike ride to the moon?
With the stars all glinting in the shiny chrome
Then I suddenly remembered what I left at home
Now I shant be peddling any higher
cos a sharp sputnik has given me a cosmic flat tyre
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bike Ride
Like a vine him entwined,
While the bike rushed.
More speed; tighter hugged:
A ride ecstatic.
The bike roared and jolted
With the thrill never experienced.
Small pits on the road did
Jerk them with the bike.
Rain water in pits the bike
Beautifully splashed.
Very risky drive,
But speed reduce both dislike.
The greatest pleasures hid
In the pits of risks.
poem by Fabiyas M V
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After Bike Ride
Jim's younger sister
Followed you everywhere
and stood watching
as you rode the old car
around the field
or whizzed around
on their motorbike
to the cheers and shouts
from the fence
Monica why don't you
go off and play
Jim said
yes
said Pete
her other brother
go play with your dolls
go take a run and jump
she said
and still stood watching you
her eyes fixed on you
like wasps on a jam jar
I want to watch him ride
she said
and stood with her hands
on her hips
waiting until you stopped
the bike and got off
and wandered over to you
and said
I like the way you ride
like how you sway
and swerve on the bike
and you smiled at her
and took in
her short stature
her dark eyes
her determined expression
and as Pete rode off
on the bike
and Jim stood
on the fence
calling to him
Monica put her hand in yours
and said
wish you were my brother
I know you'd let me ride
the bike or car
and not tease me
or bawl me out
I guess I would
let you ride the bike or car
you said
and sensed
her small hand in yours
her thumb rubbing
against your skin
but seeing
as you're not my brother
she whispered
maybe you could
marry me one day
and we could ride off
into the sunset
like they do in the movies
in Jim's old car
yes sure maybe
you said
knowing inside
that'd be a bridge too far.
poem by Terry Collett
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The great rickshaw rider
he carries his newborn child
passengers on the backseat
a widower just cycles
no choice but his bike
father and rickshaw rider
sad thoughts of his dead wife
lovingly holding his child
he rides with his fate
a girl feels her fathers love
happy passengers arrived
a widower and newborn
on their bike for life
@ Ellie Daphne van Stralen
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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The best way to learn to ride is on an old bike.
Woman On Bike
Woman on bike,
Sew, sew, few, mew, blew, grew, slew;
And like the bitterness and the woes of life! !
But to sit alone down in the darkness is like,
Those long dead and gone.
Woman on bike,
Hew, crew, Jew, threw, pew, view, yew;
And like an age old flesh of the skin,
But this must show you the truth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My blue bike thunders below me
My blue bike thunders
below me
and cars and trucks
flashes by.
It’s a hot day with an open blue sky
and nowhere there’s a cloud
to be seen
and the warm wind brushes my hair.
The smell of the grass, petrol,
exhaust fumes and tar
rises around me,
but I am free
and the bike catches some speed
and the road stretches out
in front of me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Tour de France
On my training bike, in the back yard, I won Tour de France,
it only took half an hour. In Paris they gave me red wine,
a medal and my picture in Le Monde. Then I lost it a blood
test showed I was taking Lasix 40. Again my face appeared
in the papers, with the caption: “A cheat.” Me who had to go
off my bike twice for a pee. I can live with public disgrace for
I know in my heart I won the race; and as the song says:
“no, no they can’t take that away from me.”
poem by Oskar Hansen
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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
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While Waiting for the Boys
You lay your bike
against the fence
and headed towards
the farmhouse
but Monica came out
of the house
and stood in front
of the door
where you going
with the boys?
she asked
the cinema
you replied
what are you going to see?
Kissing Cousins
going to see what?
it's a new film
by Elvis in it
you said
looking beyond her
towards the house
I'd like to come too
she said
will they let you?
they might
if you say I can
that's up to your mother
you said
but if you said
you'd like me
to come along
I'm sure she'd let me
she stood gazing at you
her arms folded waiting
another time maybe
you said
why another time
why not now?
I'm 17 you're just 14
don't think your parents'd
be keen on me
taking you out just yet
what do they know
she muttered
the door of the house
opened and her mother
came out of the door
hope you're not
bothering Benedict
she said
the boys will be out
in a moment
she said
turning to you
and giving Monica
a stern stare
ok
you said
I'll wait
by my bike
Monica pouted her lips
and followed you
as you walked
to your bike
in you come
young lady
don't want you pestering
the boys' friend when
they come calling
and so Monica turned away
following her mother
another daydream falling.
poem by Terry Collett
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Boyhood
Boyhood Remembered
Mother and her sister played poker when I came out of the bedroom looking
for my trousers, but mother had just lost them to Aunt Gabriella who refused
to give them back. I sat by the coal fire and warmed my knees; winter with frost
roses on windows. Without long trousers I could not go to school, the idea of this
pleased me, I began reading a Robin Hood book. I didn’t care so much for him,
he was in love with a girl, but I liked the other ones in his gang. “Here, ” mother
said, “I have won back your trousers, your shoes as well; go to school now.” I was
going to take the bike out of the shed, but a monster rat sat there.
” Mother” I yelled, “There is a big rat in the shad it is eating the tires off my bike.”
Mother dropped the cat out of the window, from our third floor flat, just caught it.
“Put the cat in the shed, ” walk to school, it is good for you biking makes you lazy.”
My sister came with a crate of beer she had bought at the supermarket, ” you are
just like little girl frighten by a tiny rat, ” she said, took the bike out, put the dazed
cat on top of the crate and walked in. I was one hour late for school, but there was
no use telling the teacher why, he would only say I was telling tales as usual.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Flea Market (Fun Poem 68)
When I was just a little nipper,
I cycled along to see
a flea market on the green.
I parked my bike,
and then sat down in the tall grass.
No one had to me
that they gave away fleas there too.
Therefore, while I was sitting there
one jumped on my ass,
and when I got back to school
and went to park my bike.
The little beggar bit
and I went dancing around
doing the flea-a-me-jig.
I must have looked a sight for sure,
a sight for sore eyes
as I racked my rear end to bits,
jumping around like a bouncing ball.
I either got him,
or he fell of dizzy as hell,
but he never bit me again.
29 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Drunkards (Story-Bullying)
There was three of them in an old pickup truck
After drinking all night at the GOLDEN DUCK.
As the sun was coming up they was screamin and cussin
As to what to do next - they was fussin.
When seeing this sixteen year old riding her bike to school
They started acting like the drunken fools.
They started screaming and howling and giving wolf cries
As the girl rode on by.
They wasn't just satisfied with their howls and cries
They wanted her by their sides.
They turned the truck around and cut her off
They was going to show her ' who was boss'.
They tried to grab her from the back
But she was prepared for any sneak attacks.
She had her guardian angel with her from heaven
And she had been learning KUNG -FU since the age of seven.
When the first one reached out to grab her
She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand straight up and back
Till she heard his wrist crack.
As the second one came running up
A round house kick in his face
Sent him flying into space.
The third one came at her with a tire iron in his hand
As she crotched down and took her stand
When he was about two feet away and open wide
In his crotch her kick did fly.
All three men lay on the ground
as she picked up her bike without a sound
Put her bike on their pick up truck
With this girl they was s- out of luck.
Then drove the truck into town
and told the sheriff where they could be found.
They was charged with 'drunk and disorderly manner'
And on the high school there flies a banner.
'Protect yourself and don't give in
Being a bully you will never win'
poem by Louis Rams
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As She Rides Her Bike
as she rides her bike
everyday here in India
the lady with a brave heart
gives an inspiration to
a brazilian poet named
Aldo Krass.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drug Dealer & 2 Tikes
Going up my alley on my bike,
passing by a car with 2 little tikes.
Walking up to my metal gate,
Drugdealer does not hesitate.
For he is playing the part of a thug,
asking next if I want to buy some drugs.
Like oxycotten, percocet or crack,
I say “I’m clean and no thanks”
then I turn to him and I do ask,
“Hey, do you want to buy some coloring books? ”
He replies, “no” and I take one more look.
His ear is half cut off and it’s such a scary sight,
I say goodbye and I lock up my bike.
I bet a drug dealer has never been asked
that question before,
I realized I should of just gave them for free,
to the 2 tikes who need so much more.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Feb 10,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Haunting
Sit down on that stool hear the cant of a fool
And a strange tale Ill impart to ye
Of a time that I lived at the buff of a hill
neath the burial chambers you see
One saturday night I got up on my bike
To go to a dance in the town
I set off at seven to be there at eleven
No thought of the rain coming down
As I pushed up the hill the rain started to spill
So for shelter I had to resort
Helter skelter I went as downhill I sped
To the trees at the old fairy fort
I pulled up my bike be a tree in the gripe
To find shelter out of the storm
The rain it came down and like stones beat the ground
But it was grand to be dry in that storm
I was dreaming away about better days
When a voice it says dirty ould night
I fell over me bike I got such a fright
When the ghostly voice bid me the night
I jumped up with a start gave the storm not a thought
As the hail beat a rhythm on me
And I stared at the tree that had spoken to me
Not a body was there I could see
The voice I had heard not another word said
As the hair on the head stood on me
And I said an our father as I peddled much faster
Away from that ghost haunted tree
For weeks and weeks after with nerves a disaster
Nowhere near that road would I go
And from dusk through the night I would shake with the fright
Of the tree that had haunted me so
Now whenever I go to a dance in the town
I make sure not to stop on the way
To be there for eleven I still leave at seven
But I go by a different way
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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