Posts Tagged ‘poem’

Rose Colored Goggles

August 9, 2013

This is another one of my plagiarized poems. What a surprise huh? I’m using John Conlee’s idea for this poem. He sings a song about looking through ‘Rose Colored Glasses’. His significant other isn’t really that interested in him, but he presses on with his unrequited attentions. It’s got a good tune if you’ve never heard it… So, if you are a regular motorcycle rider in our modern society – you probably own at least one pair of Rose Colored Goggles-


Scalding breeze at fifty five,
freezing rain in puddles dive-
sunshine blinds the morning dawn;
wooded ride; beware the fawn.

but these rose colored goggles,
that I’m looking through-
mask threats environmental;
power past creations’ truth.

Yellow lights, traffic crawling-
A-D-D electric scrawling…
angry rage, excessive speed;
avoiding impacts is my creed.

but these rose colored goggles,
clear highways I see;
oil spills and potholes deep-
occasionally around I creep.

Loose chains, brake pads real thin;
a second job for dollars win.
Adjust the clutch, buy more chrome-
new battery before I roam.

But these rose colored goggles,
elastic band all stretched-
show only the beauty,
of good rides, fully fetched.


In the Arms of the Octane

June 14, 2013

Sorry- initially had some trouble loading this effort; then I made some changes. Thanks to Sarah McLachlan for the inspiration from her song ‘Angel’!


Seconds lost each traffic stop,
V-twin grumbles, mounted cop,
Looking for that turnoff right,
LEDs make darkness bright.
You’re in the arms of the octane,
ninety-three is its refrain.
Ride alone on asphalt pathways,
Towards an angel; restless stays.
Open road – twist throttle max,
RPMs of needle packs-
Accelerate then cruise ahead,
Burning fuel without the lead.
You’re in the arms of the octane,
oxygen ignites the strain.
Revolutions translate miles,
Gas transfixed; past many trials.

Motorcycle Math

May 7, 2013

First, don’t just read this poem. Browse a few of my older postings. Some of these compositions took me almost 10 minutes to write…

When you ride a motorcycle you are constantly using mathematics to, well, let’s just say ‘figure stuff’. Always remember 7 out of 5 bikers are good at math.


Price tag says ten thousand dollars,
Harley shares, use put-call collars.
Forty eight of months is due-
Two ‘oh eight plus interest slew.

Three fifty eight a gallon now,
One eighty miles this bike will plough.
Insurance rates to drain my stash-
The wife demands her weekly cash.

Numbers take me for a cruise;
Of torque my wheels for spin, do use;
At fifty five the m-p-g,
Makes bureaucrats exhaust with glee!

Maintenance expenses climb;
Constraints prioritize shop time.
Dizzying formulas do compose-
A ride; no fractals can enclose.

Rider Wedding Blessing

April 12, 2013

Today we have a guest submission which is worthy of sharing. Guys, we must remember that there are only two things that hold our society together; the love of commitment we have for our wives, and riding motorcycles. OK, maybe not the riding thing. But the other thing is vital. She may not always love us, but we must always love her. A husbands’ love is a reflection of God’s love for all mankind. Period.

Thanks to our visiting rider poet John Meissner-

I have visited your Motorcycle poetry website in the past and wanted to share this with you.  I recently was the Best Man at a wedding for a very close friend and his wife.  All three of us are Harley owners and avid riders.  So, I was trying to find a way of working their passion for riding into my speech and came up with the following poem.  Thought it might be of use to other riders who find themselves giving speeches or toasts to the bride and groom at biker weddings.

May the roads you travel be trouble free,

clear of pitfalls, obstacles, and debris.

May love fuel your engines, and your tank never run dry,

so remember to show it often; or at least always try.

May kindness and compassion be the lubricant for any friction that comes along,

let forgiveness and understanding help to keep your love strong.

May you hold on tight, as you round each corner, and pave new roads together,

your love will steer you straight and true, through any kind of weather.

May you be mindful of the speed of life and the need for shifting gears,

knowing when to take things slow, as you enjoy the coming years.

For time will take its toll on your soft and youthful skin,

but always remember, beneath that leather, there’s a gentleness within.

May your love endure beyond the setting sun, as your future unfolds ahead,

So say “I Love You” each time you saddle up, and each time you go to bed.

To my brother Paul, my lifelong friend and Anita his beautiful bride,

May happiness and prosperity always find you, wherever you choose to ride.

Price This Motorcycle

March 5, 2013

FIRST: are you just reading my latest posting? You had better be browsing some of my previous posts also. Unless you are an unrepentant communist-

Today’s Posting: Motorcycles are like all other vehicles, they get traded and resold. But how does one find a good deal on a used ride. Make, model, year, mileage and condition are the five fundamental dimensions of your bid. But are there more subtile aspects that reveal hidden value? Maybe…


Make and model sets the tone,
Style of ride, and rides alone-
Power plant opposed or twin,
Street, off road or cruiser skin.
Price my ride a sale to win
Model Year will calculate,
Fuel inject or carborate;
Mileage drives you to look hard-
Tranny, clutch and service card.
Price my ride a sale; not hard
Serious and dark is black,
Balanced bright with chrome attack.
Red or blue with white and green,
The spectrum full and sometimes clean.
Price my ride, big dollars keen!
Economics up or down,
Unemployment makes its rounds,
Moody buyers squeeze their gold-
Cheaper now is what we’re told,
Price my ride; hold firm, be bold.

Bagger Blues

February 25, 2013

Baggers are motorcycles with large storage bins or ‘bags’ on each side of the rear wheel. Not everyone likes them or wants them. But they are very handy if you want to keep tools or other stuff with you when you ride. Especially snacks. Baggers sometimes have a long, lowish look called ‘slammed’. Baggers are usually constructed from the touring motorcycle class frames. The older you get the higher the probability you’ll end up on a bagger.


Sleek machines with chrome so bright,

slip through the wind by V-Twin might.

But tiny pouches clip my style;

Back pack sore; another mile-

Got them ‘no haul’ bagger blues….


A ride that’s slammed, my crystal ball.

Gives room for snacks and tools quite small-

Balanced bags for silvered manes!

Relief from stabbing shoulder pains-

Got them ‘no haul’ bagger blues…


Absent bags on bikes for streets,

seldom seen with chopper fleets.

Yet bags allure for all your stuff;

Computers, covers, toys with fluff-

Got them ‘no haul’ bagger blues

The Sign Ignored

December 2, 2012

I’m sorry for publishing so many poems in a short time span. It must be Alzheimer’s.

There is a sign. It conveys a message. Sometimes the message is not well received. It’s often ignored. Will you heed its call? Maybe when gas prices hit $6… ?


Forlorn sign hangs strictly laced;

Eyeholes brass,  in fence well placed.

Words in red are seen at night-

but only when the lightning’s bright.


The message understood; but few will heed,

Juxtaposed to traffic’s irritated speed-

Quietly proclaims commitment’s call;

The message on blind eyes of masses falls.


It does not shy from sun or wind or dust;

There is some stain from brownish fencing rust.

A message bold for some, a bit of fear-

The letters beckon all both far and near,

on white fabric; ‘Motorcycle Classes Here’.

Bright Rider Ballad

September 10, 2012

Some riding cultures have a dark aspect. But black clothes, jackets, and other accessories make you hard to see at night; and even in the daytime. I prefer the brighter side of riding for several reasons.


Dull helmet on a blacked out steed,

accelerating loudly,

inky jackets boast their deeds,

Pounding on, so proudly.


Others cruise on bikes that gleam,

cheerful blooms within the traffic beat.

Flashing bright the sunlight beam-

Gloves of white defeat the heat.


Safety is its own reward,

See and avoid is true!

Brightly gleam a cheery chord-

Reflecting prism hues.

Road Glide Haiku #2

August 28, 2012

This is Road Glide Haiku #2 because I can’t remember if I wrote a #1-. As most of you know, my humorous poems aren’t that funny; and this is another one. I really like the Harley Road Glide and would get one if I could figure out how to pay for it…


Road Glides cool but cost!

Just three types of Harley guys-

Good at math or lost.

Motorcycle School Prime Minister

August 19, 2012

Motorcycle Training Centers provide novice motorcycle riders a safe place to learn to ride. There is a flat area of asphalt or concrete with obstructions removed, painted pathways to practice the basic skill sets of riding, and training motorcycles just the right size for learners. Here’s to the folks that keep those places running smooth-

Schedules squeeze on hours and days,
Another class of riding frights-
But is there gas to share in tanks?
two more days and sleepless nights

Bikes aren’t new but clean and whole,
Each ridden hard through curves around;
Little engines sprite with soul,
Towards graduation each is bound.

Oil is checked and brakes are fine,
More forms we need to note the good-
Parents bring their youth and sign,
Weather check for rain – it could..

Time to ride and all in place,
With special care pump up each tire.
Anticipation on each face-
Adjust we must the clutching wire.