To Ride or Not to Ride -UNFINISHED-

This effort reminds me of the little boy coloring a picture when his mom asked him what he was doing. The little boy said he was making a picture of heaven. His mom protested and said that no one knows what heaven looks like. The little boy said that ‘they will when I’m through’.

As you will see this work is unfinished. It is not my aim to insult the great bard but to salute him. Some guy once wrote that no one really understands the great ‘TO BE OR NOT TO BE’, but as you can see I’m working on it. Updates as they are made.

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To ride or not to ride, that is the question!

Whether ’tis nobler the rain to suffer, or
The slings and arrows of raging soccer grandmothers
who both gawk and text simultaneously.
Or to roll your throttle against the tide of traffic,

And by riding stay them, for just another day.
But no, per chance to skip the ride just now,
Too cold or hot or windy, a hundred stresses more-

That flesh is heir to riding as consummation
Pray a prayer to rest from riding never;

But risk a dream; the ride of roadways clear and dry-
For in that dream of rides, what dreams may come!
Far from the shores of democrats and endless taxes.

But, when we discard this v-twin tainted flesh;
And pause at the threshold of eternity’s long ride
What weight urban congestion and frustration will remain?

That makes calamity of a ride so rude and long.
For who could bear the stop and go of surface streets,
Endure the insolence of lessor men on local roads.

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered.[1]

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