Ride it Right
One poem every week (1)
I’m always falling off my bike
Can never seem to ride it right
Doesn’t matter how I sit
I’m always left arse over tit
I can’t forget, when I fell
down a snaking northern hill
My knees were scraped and stuck with grit
Me tooth had struck straight through me lip
My nose was bent, my eyes were black
Self respect had turned it’s back
My thinking raced into the night
Why can’t I bloody ride it right?
My legs are strong! I peddle fast?!
I mind all people when I pass!!
I stay alert, my bike is top
I grip the handles like a knot!
But recently that pavement crack
Feels all comfy on my back
It’s not ideal, a cold wet place
But sunshine seems to find my face
My body loosens in the air
Suspended moment, chosen there -
Accepting what has come to be
Will always break the fall for me


So good!