17/12/2024
Motorcycle poetry
I. The Awakening of Steel and Bone
Beneath the dust, they slumbered deep,
Machines of rust in silence sleep.
Forgotten titans, hulking cold,
Their frames betrayed by years untold.
I found them there, abandoned still,
Steel skeletons on iron hill.
Their voices dead, their chains undone,
No longer riders beneath the sun.
Yet with a touch, a spark reborn,
Engines wail like beasts that mourn.
Their throats alive, a roar profound,
The air did shudder, the earth did sound.
For these were not just metal slaves,
But beasts of burden, born of graves.
Awake! I cried, and felt their breath—
Beneath my hands, they conquered death.
Thus did I mount, and thus did I learn,
A soul, like theirs, can yet return.
For in their hum, I found my name,
A life reclaimed, no longer tame.
---
II. The Road’s Eternal Bride
The world was ash, a gray expanse,
Till chrome and wheel began to dance.
The road unwound, a lover’s veil,
Her whispered freedom, her dusty trail.
Oh, how she wept when I did ride,
The wind my breath, the earth my bride.
I saw the sun, a molten flare,
A furious god, yet I didn’t care.
For love is found not in repose,
But in the rush where the engine grows.
She whispered life—she bled me clean,
A wretch reborn in gasoline.
Each mile a kiss, a fleeting vow,
That I was hers, forever now.
And if I fall, and bones should break,
She’ll keep my soul, she’ll never take.
For life is nothing but a cage,
Unless you love, unless you rage.
And I will rage, and I will scream,
Until the road devours my dream.
---
III. In Quest of the Horizon’s Maw
Into the dark, where shadows lean,
Where forests hide in black and green.
Beyond the towns where light grows dim,
I sought the edge, the skyline’s rim.
The road became a beast that coiled,
Its teeth were turns, its breath unspoiled.
Through deserts vast and mountains gray,
Its voice would call, and I’d obey.
No compass held me to the ground,
No tethered soul could pull me down.
I slept on dust beneath the sky,
A rider cursed to never die.
For freedom’s cost is steep, they say,
You give your soul, you lose your way.
Yet I would trade this fractured land,
For miles unbroken, vast and grand.
So ride I must, to worlds unseen,
Through storm and moonlight’s silver sheen.
Adventure calls, and so I go—
A rider lost, yet all I know.
---
IV. The Fading Light of Riders Old
The road still calls, though weaker now,
Its voice a whisper through the bough.
My hands, once firm, grow frail and worn,
My shadow short, my leather torn.
Where once I flew, a man possessed,
I linger here, a soul at rest.
The throttle’s hum, a distant song,
That pulls me back where I belong.
But wheels are slow, and so am I,
The road’s grown thin beneath my sky.
Each mile I ride is one I steal,
From death’s cold hand, from fate’s cruel wheel.
My brothers gone, their voices still,
Are echoes on some hidden hill.
I see their lights—those ghostly beams,
In twilight’s haze, in fleeting dreams.
Oh, how I weep for roads undone,
For nights I chased the burning sun.
Yet as I fade, the truth remains—
The road, once given, always claims.
---
V. The Last Ride and the Long Farewell
They gather near, those young and wild,
Eyes alight like I’m beguiled.
My words are oil, my stories flame,
And in their hearts, I’ll ride again.
For though I lie in feathered bed,
Where wheels don’t turn, where dreams are dead,
I hear the roar, the faintest hum,
Of roads behind and roads to come.
“Come closer, lads,” I whisper low,
“There’s much to learn, there’s much to know.
The road is life, the bike your steed,
A fleeting joy, a vital creed.”
And as I speak, I feel it near,
That ghostly hum, that sound I hear.
My body stills, my breath grows light,
The road appears—a streak of night.
The young will ride, as I have done,
Chasing stars and fleeing none.
And as I pass, they’ll hear me go,
Faint and distant, soft and slow.
A bike’s last growl—a fleeting sound,
The echoes lost, the rider found.
My story fades like mist at dawn,
But on their roads, I still ride on.
