RocBike.com » Cycling Poems

Don’t Ride In The Door Prize Zone

Ethan — Mon, 13 Sep 2010 15:45:09 +0000

Don’t Ride In The Door Prize Zone,
a haiku by everyday bicycle commuter Ethan Georgi

riding along and
A DOOR FLIES OPEN OH NO!
no door prize for me

The door prize zone is the area three feet to the left of cars parked on the right. When a car door opens, it opens into this space and it can kill you. I am not kidding. You might be thinking, oh, I can just swerve around it. If you do that, you are swerving into the traffic on your left. This is why I don’t ride in the door prize zone.

I do tend to call out “Door!” when I see one open.

(Safely) Go Around

Ethan — Mon, 23 Aug 2010 12:51:50 +0000

I made up this song on Lake, near Madison, this morning, while cycling through the wet streets of Albany. I don’t know why I sing so much when I’m riding. Usually I do so with this almost cheesy, shower voice, like a big, slow Sinatra. Anyway.

You – can pass me – if you want to
You – can just go – around
I don’t – appreciate – being followed
So please, just safely go around

Friday Morning Baiku (Bike Haiku)

Ethan — Fri, 02 Apr 2010 21:06:49 +0000

i rode through the park
/ morning sun on dew on grass
/ / things motorists miss

Thoughts on this morning’s commute

Julie — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 13:33:45 +0000

Wish I could hold the images and sounds from this morning’s ride

The Canada geese honking on the Genesee River

The statue in front of Bausch & Lomb as I turned the corner

St. Mary’s Church to my left

The dead pigeon on the side of the road, only partially flattened

The throng of people at the bus stop at Main and Clinton

Everyone in line for coffee and donuts as I wheel into the building

Boneshaker

Ethan — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 00:08:11 +0000

Part of one of the gifts I got for Christmas was a copy of Boneshaker: A Bicycling Almanac. It was a joy to read.

It begins with the following, from the editors:
“Bicycling, not bicycles, because it’s an action and a purpose and a way to move and move and move.”

It goes on to be filled with lots of little short pieces. Interviews, poetry, book reviews, an advice column, thoughts one commuting by bike down south, and some excerpts from touring cyclists.

It’s a little book, it fits in your pocket so you can take it anyway. It’s rugged. It’s printed in elegant type. Highly enjoyable.

Bike To Work Day Baiku

Ethan — Fri, 15 May 2009 12:50:17 +0000

It’s Bike To Work Day / My political statement / Is to wear a tie

Tonight: Jungle Coast & Red Light Go

Ethan — Tue, 12 May 2009 19:59:30 +0000

Perry Woodin’s “Jungle Coaster” followed by the classic feature — “Red Light Go”
Upstate Artists Guild Gallery, 247 Lark St. (across from Ben & Jerry’s at Jay St.)
Doors open – 6:30
Showtime – 7:00 (Some announcements stated a 7:30 show time. We will have a special “critical mass” video as a warm up while we wait for latecomers.)
Contribution please ($5 suggested) to offset UAG’s costs.

It’s Bike to Work Week
Go ahead, use the full lane
‘Cause you deserve it

Bike To Work Week Baiku

Ethan — Mon, 11 May 2009 19:19:10 +0000

It’s Bike to Work Week
So tell everyone you know
And then ride your bike

Baiku for Tuesday

Ethan — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 13:15:35 +0000

cruising down park ave
the birds are singing away
cars are missing this

Almost a Baiku, For Tuesday Morning

Ethan — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 12:51:43 +0000

wait, isn’t it spring?
why are my fingers freezing?
bike on.

Really Nice Ride In This Morning

Ethan — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 14:01:45 +0000

Sunny, thirty four.
Clear streets, and traffic seemed light.
I pedal my bliss.

Ricky Redbeard

Jason Crane — Mon, 03 Mar 2008 00:06:06 +0000

Ricky Redbeard was a renegade,
A pirate without ship or crew.
He plundered atop a bicycle,
One not even built for two.

His eyepatch stretched over his helmet,
His sword was strapped down to the rack.
He carried the loot that he plundered
In a messenger bag on his back.

When raising his bold Jolly Roger,
Ricky’s hands would come off of the bars.
His flag he’d fly just for a moment
To avoid slamming into parked cars.

He scoured the bike paths and sidewalks
For chests full of golden doubloons.
And when he approached little children
With his sword he would pop their balloons.

One day as he sailed on the asphalt,
Ricky Redbeard was met by a foe.
A pirate so mean and so nasty
‘Twas as if he’d been reared Down Below.

Ricky, he drew forth his cutlass
And matched this new foe blade for blade.
They slashed and they hacked at their chainsets
And oh! what a racket they made.

They were evenly matched in the battle,
Though each wobbled a bit on his bike.
Then the foeman won out over Ricky
Without e’en one slash or one strike.

Ricky Redbeard, he plunders no longer,
But suffers the Eternal Fire.
Sent headlong to Davy Jones’ bike rack
By the worst foe of all — a flat tire!

Ricky Redbeard

Jason Crane — Mon, 03 Mar 2008 00:05:00 +0000