Some drivers go vroom when pass! Others let up on the gas!

As a cyclist I get numerous opportunities to speculate on why the drivers who pass me leave such varying space between their car and my bike:

If ego of the ‘driver ace’
is bigger than their whatever car:
Then rarely enough passing space
as such driver entitled by far

While going to be plenty room
if smaller ego than the auto:
Then passing goes smooth without vroom
unless driver on phone like blotto

But needs not cause a glitch:
If from roadway cyclists switch
to their much safer niche
of riding down in the ditch!

May be by a next pedal stroke I’ll turn woke?

Out on my bike pedaling

I do my best thinking
although won’t be medaling
mostly rinky-dinking

But still by a next pedal stroke
I may find myself in vogue
by having finally turned woke
tired out from being such rogue

And we can’t all have a proclivity
for theories of relativity …

*)
“It came to me while riding my bicycle”, said Albert Einstein about his Theory of Relativity

Pedaling below Spring’s trees pendulous

Under tire in front
at cheerful clip
goes the hurried hunt
for pavement strip

Gliding below trees pendulous
bestows us joy eternal
pedaling in Spring blessedness
hugged by miracle vernal

In peace of heart & mind
beyond most other kind

Up hill slowly I pedal lowly amidst a few drivers who verbally meddle

I regularly pedal up a steep, narrow, winding, two-way, two-lane road occasionally ‘causing’ drivers to wait due to oncoming traffic before passing me. Judging from some cars ‘riding my rear fender’ & the rare occasional driver’s remark or gesture perhaps I’m viewed by some drivers as an annoying traffic impediment? Others may perhaps be capable of ‘feeling my pain’ (here in aging legs & lungs), while by most ignored? So goes our human experience at large.

One irate driver yelling
“You’re obstructing traffic!”
on mission Cyclist Quelling
then adds gesture graphic

While another in civil quirk
rather cheers my modest pace
by affably calling “Good work!”
with welcomed patience & grace

Thus the human clash goes
between those empathetic
and those in restless throes
sounding off homiletic

Of course up to anyone exposed
to try act safely & stay composed

Who are electric bikes for?

Just about everybody including those:

With legs toothpick scrawny
or Tour de France brawny.

Celebs basking in fawning fame
or whose friends can’t recall their name.

Who are hard pressed to steer & pedal
or just won an Olympic medal.

Who are not obtuse:
So, what’s your excuse?

 

Memories stoked by pedal strokes

Memories glaringly stoke
turns the Past over as by plow
while seems every pedal stroke
distracts me away from The Now

Riding the bike ‘memory machine’
brings on wondrous recollection
as if shown on refulgent wide screen
in stern fiat retrospection

Whilst as long as rotate the wheels
my mixed Past unflinchingly squeals 8

+)
squeal = to inform on

When disquietude brims, the outlook dims

Attempting life uncomplicated
in today’s screeching world unhinged
more so by each day, inundated
finding myself ever more fringed

Near drowning in dubiety
from which never sounds ‘all clear’
still lessens my anxiety
when in verse I persevere

Or when my disquietude brims
when shallow restlessness spikes
or whenever the outlook dims
I jump on one of my bikes

Quatrain strophes, pedal strokes allay
fleetingly nudge doomsday thoughts away

The well-tuned bicycle

Relished the smooth ride home from the shop
trip home with steep hills seems just a hop:

Crystal crisp the shifting
Crankset, gears ticking
Handlebars uplifting
No foreign clicking

Tires whirl p.s.i. correct
hum of the well-oiled chain
Seating position perfect
I glide in the arcane

Wheels well spoked
tightly drawn
Pedals stoked
by brash brawn

All this combine to sweetly
boost the ride home most fleetly