Archive for the ‘Rhyme’ Category

Three Thousand R-P-M

April 11, 2015

Sometimes in life there are triggers or thresholds defining transitions. Same for motorcycles.

Vibration rattles handlebars while pausing for the light-
Radiated waves of heat cook muscle through clothes bright.
Drivers souls crushed down into the coolest of the gems;
Freedom flashes, V-twin roars; Three Thousand R-P-M.
Once more the speedo passes thirty, fifty is on deck-
Car ahead drifts toward my lane, a swerve avoids a wreck.
Fifth gear now, new band of smash as cams do lift the stems-
To feel the power in the breeze; Three Thousand R-P-Ms.
Accelerate past stripes of gooey latex on the road-
Passing quickly S-U-Vs and lorries rolling loads.
Hefty forks steer deftly down the blackened asphalt’s hem;
And there I cruise quite comfortably; Three Thousand R-P-M.
An hour passes, almost two till conscience bids me home,
She tarries there; but stresses when too long out there I roam.
Just one more stop to fill the tank, this ride another poem,
Back on the road, shift up to third; Three Thousand R-P-M.

Routine Riding

March 7, 2012

This is a follow up to Rides Yet Undone.


Have you grooved your BMW past pyramids of stone?
raced the MultiStrada over catacombs of martyr’s bone?
blast your Rocket III beside the battlements of Norman lore?
parked to rest your Yamaha on Tripoli’s far and storied shore?

While idling down under have you heard the melody,
of your Fatboy’s twin cam engine as young gulls glide near the sea?
What about volcanic rock, where sulfur fouls the air?
Have you bested grand Mt. Etna on a Kawasaki dare?

Have you rolled a big twin Victory around Paris where it’s quaint,
Or ridden high, the Andies; lack of air will make you faint!
Has your V-twin growled for hours riding south towards Panama?
Smoothly glide your trusty GoldWing past big feedlots – Omaha!

If your riding is just routine; to the store and back again,
Never crossing baking deserts or the rainy plains of Spain.
Never fear, for you’re still members of a great fraternity,
Riding through the ageless breezes full of carbon you can’t see.

Addicted to Ride – build –

January 1, 2012

Still working on this… since Weird Al did ‘Addicted to Spuds’

Salute to Robert Palmer of Addicted to Love fame… a small ‘plagerization’ on his idea


Reach out your hand, the tins are cool,

It beckons hard; so you skipped school

The engine’s off, but it still screams-

You run away, it haunts your dreams.

Just one more ride; and then you’re done!

You live your life – in wind and sun.

You shake and sweat, your knees are weak

Another cruise, a cross town streak


Paint of blue, and tires all black;

Of metals’ strength, it does not lack-

The signals flash, you need to turn;

In sunshine bright, the seat will burn!

Just one more ride; and then you’re done!

Too many bills, cut back this one.

You shake and sweat, your body aches

Another cruise, past streams and lakes.


A V-twin sits, below your thighs;

Ride down the street, past longing eyes.

A roar most deep, the pipes all shine.

Accelerate, it feels so fine.

Just one more ride; and then you’re done!

You live your life – hamburger bun.

You shake and sweat, the helmets tight

Another cruise, then you’ll be right


You need to know, your issue clear;

For chrome you long, at fame you sneer.

So when you ride, on highways far-

Of one track mind; is what you are-

Just one more ride … to buy a car.

Motorcycle at Pump Fourteen

February 26, 2011

Many of today’s motorcycles are throwbacks to styling of the 1940s and 50s. Things were slower and less efficient in those days; but many of us look back with longing for more of the human touch – instead of interacting with computers all the time. You would be greeted at the filling station under a painted gasoline sign by someone you knew. He’d ask about your family, while filling your tank he’d check your tires and oil. In the mean time you’d step inside to restock your saddle bags with necessities (junk food). Ah, the good old days.


Nostalgia haunts my ride’s design,

when gas was sold with painted sign.

Salute of cap then fill the tank,

the charge would never break the bank.


Attendants checked your tires and air,

and oil was viewed with special care-

A shine on tins and headlights bright,

refresh your kit, then cinch it tight.


Efficiency today is king,

quick stop with text or cell phone ring-

I look around the harried scene,

then swipe my card at pump fourteen.

Traffic Rhyme #1

January 18, 2010

Stop and go-

friction zone;

to ride solo,

and alone!


Ducati Multistrada 1200 Rhyme #1b

January 7, 2010

Street or touring,

L-twin engine;

Style alluring-

Rider sanguine!

Trike Type Motorcycle Rhyme #1

January 2, 2010

Wide caboose-

Not two – three.


Balance free!

Honda Goldwing Rhyme #1

January 2, 2010

Quiet power,

Smooth ride.

Two-up safely-

Snazy hide.


Vance & Hines Rhyme #1

January 2, 2010

Big Radius,

Short Shots.

Better power-

Noise? – Lots!


Helmet Rhyme #1

December 16, 2009

Fits Me


Sun or rain

Don’t Complain!