A Perspective in Poetry and Prose
Tomorrow – Talamena!
Daylight beckons, imagination caressed,
Chrome glistens, pride reflected,
Motor awakens, kinesis thrummed,
Warming oily perfumes.
Vibration is Freedom, promised.
Clutch is Wishes, granted.
First Gear is birth, realized.
Road is Life, ribboned.
Speed is Spirit, released.
I'm 54 years old, and motorcycles have been a part of my life since I was 16. There's nothing in the world that can compare to the joy of letting out the clutch on a warm, glowing day, not even knowing just yet if I’m going to turn left or right out of the driveway. No obligations, no responsibilities, and no particular place to go. Just the freedom to go when I want to, where I want to, as fast as I want to.
Throttle is wind, created,
Twisting upwards, 6500 RPM’s,
Wanting more. And a little more.
Double yellows, scorned,
Banked curves, swept,
Pavement dust, swirled,
And styling hair.
In North Arkansas we are blessed with beautiful countryside, hills and mountains, clear running water, lakes galore, and some of the most beautiful roads in the world for motoring around on two wheels. If you know the way to go, (and I do) you can get away from traffic, pull off the helmet, twist the throttle, and let the wind rip through your hair while the screaming engine rips through your soul. There's nothing like 100 miles per hour with nothing up ahead but the next curve to be powered through.
Road vibrates in my grip,
Engine speaks, then hums, then sings out loud.
Wheels spin a tapestry of landscapes passing,
While rubber meets the road and says "Hello. Goodbye!"
Two wheels call my name. Tomorrow I'll ride. Nowhere to go, and in a hurry to get there.
The Bad Ted
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