to ride
to roll
inside this place
to mark its hide with your black tracks
to blend muscle with machine
man with speed
to bend expedience with the need for motion
to ride wet
in sunshine wet
in rain
through puddles of emotions
to ride
to slide into destinations
hot blood gushing through a Junkanoo heart
sweat dripping through your open pores washing
your tight skin and perched on your eyebrows like a baby high-tide
to ride
free
no space but for your iron board butt
free
full of books and pens and papers and words and ideas and poems
to ride
without issues of the day
without speedometers odometers and oil meters and thermometers
and bitter gas station pumpers and seat belt laws
to ride
to put on breaks
and
breathe
4 comments:
your writing style is what i wish to master some day. i feel a journey of life in this piece. more than that of a ride where my car needs to be refilled with fuel. your expressions i can't explain, yet i always enjoy the ride
nat
“to ride” — partly inspired by a long ecstatic and life enhancing bicycle ride in a heavy thunder storm… thank you for your comments “nat” and I hope tohave more from you… the more you live life the more it begins.
Blisca O'Cof
This poem is as if all written upon the ceiling of ecstasy; the ecstasy of creativity. It ends where we all abide, reside; where and when it ends, it connects us all and we all get to benefit, and to join in this ecstatic act of poetry making. I hope these remarks are not contrived. I merely mean to say, what a poem! As I know I must avoid any profanity even if in affirmation of what succeeds so well.
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