A little frivolity

[MickNasty]

Was working on my stories this morning when I felt the need to write something different. Been experimenting with poetry and this one kinda came out. I guess I just needed to lighten my mood a bit.

The Quest

Hog’s muffled thunder splits morning peace
Leather on denim, chains on my feet
Open the throttle, cast freedom’s spell
Ride like the wind, escape from my hell

Sol rises behind me, his hot fiery lance
Cuts through the cold, thaws with a glance
Wind screams in my ears, puts tears in my eyes
Pushes back on my arms, its strength I deny

Back on the ranch, honey-dos how they pile
The stack just grows higher, mile upon mile
My chores never end, abate, or desist
They only increase, I only resist

Hours of riding, my arms feel the burn
My ass is past feeling, I won’t be detoured
The miles fly past me, the morn turns to night
Headlights all around, thunder echoes my plight

Bugs in my face, teeth speckled and black
Rain rinses away muck and mud from my back
Still I go on, unwilling to quit
Except for some gas, and occasional shit

Trucks in my way, horns blare out their warning
Blind drivers in cages, cops hunting their quarry
Over mountains and rivers my quest now in site
Central Grocery ahead, just one left then one right

Pull into in a spot, I’m fucked up from the road
Walk in through the door like a dog from the cold
My order is taken, five more minutes won’t matter
The ultimate sandwich, CG’s muffaletta

 

[Angeline]

Was working on my stories this morning when I felt the need to write something different. Been experimenting with poetry and this one kinda came out. I guess I just needed to lighten my mood a bit.

The Quest

Hog’s muffled thunder splits morning peace
Leather on denim, chains on my feet
Open the throttle, cast freedom’s spell
Ride like the wind, escape from my hell

Sol rises behind me, his hot fiery lance
Cuts through the cold, thaws with a glance
Wind screams in my ears, puts tears in my eyes
Pushes back on my arms, its strength I deny

Back on the ranch, honey-dos how they pile
The stack just grows higher, mile upon mile
My chores never end, abate, or desist
They only increase, I only resist

Hours of riding, my arms feel the burn
My ass is past feeling, I won’t be detoured
The miles fly past me, the morn turns to night
Headlights all around, thunder echoes my plight

Bugs in my face, teeth speckled and black
Rain rinses away muck and mud from my back
Still I go on, unwilling to quit
Except for some gas, and occasional shit

Trucks in my way, horns blare out their warning
Blind drivers in cages, cops hunting their quarry
Over mountains and rivers my quest now in site
Central Grocery ahead, just one left then one right

Pull into in a spot, I’m fucked up from the road
Walk in through the door like a dog from the cold
My order is taken, five more minutes won’t matter
The ultimate sandwich, CG’s muffaletta

I think, Mick, that you have more poetry in you than you've realized. Or maybe now you're starting to see it. That first line is the most poetic (and in a really good way) I've seen from you thus far. The phrase "muffled thunder" gives a perfect auditory clue to the sound of a motorcycle without actually using the word. And "splits morning's peace" is a great metaphor for "makes a lot of noise." If you read great poetry, you see lines that use phrases that do these same sorts of things.

Maybe less frivolous than you thought!

 

[WickedEve]

I like the poem. I like the fun ending. Like the good beginning. Like, like, like.

 

[Safe_Bet]

I think, Mick, that you have more poetry in you than you've realized. Or maybe now you're starting to see it. That first line is the most poetic (and in a really good way) I've seen from you thus far. The phrase "muffled thunder" gives a perfect auditory clue to the sound of a motorcycle without actually using the word. And "splits morning's peace" is a great metaphor for "makes a lot of noise." If you read great poetry, you see lines that use phrases that do these same sorts of things.

Maybe less frivolous than you thought!

Geeze, Mick! Ange's comments are the equivalent of Vida Guerra telling me I have a nice ass! Way to go dude!

 

[sassynyc]

Was working on my stories this morning when I felt the need to write something different. Been experimenting with poetry and this one kinda came out. I guess I just needed to lighten my mood a bit.

The Quest

Hog’s muffled thunder splits morning peace
Leather on denim, chains on my feet
Open the throttle, cast freedom’s spell
Ride like the wind, escape from my hell

Sol rises behind me, his hot fiery lance
Cuts through the cold, thaws with a glance
Wind screams in my ears, puts tears in my eyes
Pushes back on my arms, its strength I deny

Back on the ranch, honey-dos how they pile
The stack just grows higher, mile upon mile
My chores never end, abate, or desist
They only increase, I only resist

Hours of riding, my arms feel the burn
My ass is past feeling, I won’t be detoured
The miles fly past me, the morn turns to night
Headlights all around, thunder echoes my plight

Bugs in my face, teeth speckled and black
Rain rinses away muck and mud from my back
Still I go on, unwilling to quit
Except for some gas, and occasional shit

Trucks in my way, horns blare out their warning
Blind drivers in cages, cops hunting their quarry
Over mountains and rivers my quest now in site
Central Grocery ahead, just one left then one right

Pull into in a spot, I’m fucked up from the road
Walk in through the door like a dog from the cold
My order is taken, five more minutes won’t matter
The ultimate sandwich, CG’s muffaletta

I do believe you are finding your groove.
That is one hell of an opening line.