February 3, 2013 at 2:54 pm (philosophy, Poems, poetry, Stories) (, , , , , , , , , )

So mounting life we’ll screech and ride and burn

careering round the country without lights

we’ll roll our bikes get up and spit and learn

 and dash on through the dark dragging our rights.

When we are younger helmets guard our thought

as down those lethal hills we shift and fly

our heads are strong our muscles flexed and tort

as hairpins bend and buzz us round and by.

Chicanes defied we leap our faith and nerve

and pay no heed to riders left or felled

unhindered by the boulders and the curb

past flags and friends as though we are propelled. 

When whipped and lapped by attitude we swear

at step and crossroads, brake and all but chunder;

footfaulting in our sudden wheel of care

we grip the bars to stop us going under.



  1. unfetteredbs said,

    carefree youth.. sigh where does it go? Nice one Julia

    • Julia Dean-Richards said,

      Ah yes, but actually, I remember a lot of angst too.

      • unfetteredbs said,

        too much so. I would not want to go back..nope

  2. nobodysreadingme said,

    Oh yes. I did some pretty mad things on pushbikes. Just as well I never had a motorbike. I wouldn’t be here to tell the tale.

  3. atothewr said,

    I had to read this one twice – good work – thought provoking.

  4. Morrighan said,

    hi there, i have nominated you for the liebster award! http://wp.me/p2GxHb-1I0

  5. JulesPaige said,

    You brought to mind when one of our children was attempting flight by bike, down a very fast hill, A neighbors mail box stopped them. After checking out the child, We all went to repair the mailbox (on a post) that suffered more damage than the child.

    Thank you for your visit. 🙂

    • Julia Dean-Richards said,

      I remember such a time – my little girl careering down a hill on her bike in an effort to save her brother who had forgotten he had brakes.

  6. Russ L said,


please feel free to comment on these poems - all feedback appreciated. :)

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