A Biker's Poem

A Biker's Poem from a Vmax site: -

I saw you,
hug your purse closer to you in the grocery store line.
But, you didn't see me,
put an extra $10.00 in the collection plate last Sunday.

I saw you,
pull your child closer when we passed each other on the sidewalk.
But, you didn't see me,
playing Santa at the local mall.

I saw you,
change your mind about going into the restaurant.
But, you didn't see me,
attending a meeting to raise more money for the hurricane relief.

I saw you,
roll up your window and shake your head when I drove by.
But, you didn't see me,
driving behind you when you flicked your cigarette
butt out the car window.

I saw you,
frown at me when I smiled at your children.
But, you didn't see me,
when I took time off from work to run toys to the homeless.

I saw you,
stare at my long hair.
But, you didn't see me,
and my friends cut ten inches off for Locks of Love.

I saw you,
roll your eyes at our leather coats and gloves.
But, you didn't see me,
and my brothers donate our old coats and gloves to those that had none.

I saw you,
look in fright at my tattoos.
But, you didn't see me,
cry as my children where born and have their name written over and in
my heart.

I saw you,
change lanes while rushing off to go somewhere.
But, you didn't see me,
going home to be with my family.

I saw you,
complain about how loud and noisy our bikes can be.
But, you didn't see me,
when you were changing the CD and drifted into my lane.

I saw you,
yelling at your kids in the car.
But, you didn't see me,
pat my child's hands, knowing he was safe behind me.

I saw you,
reading the newspaper or map as you drove down the road.
But, you didn't see me,
squeeze my wife's leg when she told me to take the next turn.

I saw you,
race down the road in the rain.
But, you didn't see me,
get soaked to the skin so my son could have the car to go on his date.

I saw you,
run the yellow light just to save a few minutes of time.
But, you didn't see me,
trying to turn right.

I saw you,
cut me off because you needed to be in the lane I was in.
But, you didn't see me,
leave the road.

I saw you,
waiting impatiently for my friends to pass.
But, you didn't see me.
I wasn't there.

I saw you,
go home to your family.
But, you didn't see me.
Because, I died that day you cut me off.

I was just a biker,.....
A person with friends and a family.
But, you didn't see me.

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Poignant, powerful. Sad but true. Sometimes, when folk get into their vehicles, they lose track of their humanity and forget that those around them are human too, doing things that could cost human lives. But they don't care, not until they step out of their insulated shell of a car and realise what they have done. By then, regret and tears will not bring back the dead.

I dreamt Hart woke up and was almost fully recovered. Is that God, showing me the answer to my prayers?

Riding hard, fast, safely AND taking a few corners.

There Is Nothing To Forgive

You ask for my forgiveness. And I clasp your hands in mine, look deep in your eyes, and say, "There is nothing to forgive".

Nothing. Nothing at all. What have you done but acts borne of love and concern? What have you perpetuated but out of a desire to be near me, to hold me for that moment longer? You say you give me lots of trouble. I say, when the deed is done for you, it is no trouble at all. You say you always need me to entertain you even after I'm tired out from work. I say, no matter how tired I am, seeing you gladdens my heart and I will drag myself to meet you if it comes to it. You say you are contradictory. I say, you are sweet, for wanting everything to go well for me, even if the means to these various well-beings do not sometimes go in sync.

I dearly wish for you to understand that all the sacrifices I partake of, I do so willingly because I love you. Yes, I may grumble at the inconvenience of it all sometimes. But deep down inside, I would willingly fly to the moon and back if you wished it. Anything at all. No matter how much I grumble, how black my face may seem, my heart is willing to do it for you. Think on it; if I weren't willing to do it, was unhappy at the prospect of doing those things, would I have done them anyway? That I dislike those deeds and activities enough to grumble, and yet do it for you anyway, would be a poignant reminder of how willing I am to do them, because of you.

I am paradoxical of sorts. I love the way you're always asking for words of affirmation, yet get exasperated when you ask too often. I think it's sweet that you always want to be with me, even if I have to sacrifice personal time to do that. Please remember that, no matter what, you come first in my life. And that's because I love you.

Don't worry about the way you behave, how you always say me, stop me from contacting my close gal friends etc. Those are sacrifices I willingly undertake in order to make you happy. Your happiness is of paramount importance to me, and I will always strive to put that smile on your face. And I do not mind all these, because I know you love me, and you do all these because you love me. And I love you for this.

Sometimes, I do wish that you'd take maintaining the relationship more seriously, and not advocate breaking up everytime we meet with a problem. It shatters me, even though I understand that you do all that because of how deeply you are in love with me, and how much pain you feel as a result when something errs between us. But beyond that, because everything you do is out of love for me, I do not mind. In fact, I love you even more for that. You're the sweetest thing to ever occur in my life, you know that?

I love you.

Riding hard, fast, safely AND taking a few corners.

The Cost Of Riding

For the past four years, ever since I'd taken up biking, riding has been among the biggest defining factors of my life. Anyone who knows me even minutely, when asked about me, would describe me, first and foremost, as a biker. I ride, I live. It's in my blood...or at least it seems to be that way.

To many people, that constitutes living life on the edge. Riding a bike is too dangerous, they say, alluding to the 'meat cover metal' analogy. While I have always begged to differ on the issue of riding bringing about magnified risks on the road, I am increasingly forced to acede that riding is indeed unforgiving. And recent events have led me to, again, reconsider the costs riding brings about.

An accquaintance once told me, "the moment you start riding a bike, it's only a matter of time before you bury your first biker friend". Ironically, the one who left this titbit of wisdom was the first biker known to me I had to bury. Killed in a freak accident attempting his final Ironbutt challenge attempting to avoid a license-less kid who swerved out from nowhere.

Now, this little anecdote keeps hammering at my head. Within a day, news of two different bikers warded in different hospitals. Both involved taxis. One an accquaintance, another a slightly closer friend to whom I sold my SV400s to. As of this moment, he is lying in the Surgical Intensive Care Unit, fighting for his very survival. Two broken ribs, punctured lungs, broken upper arm, spinal injuries, part of his skull surgically removed due to excessive brain swelling, and a 70% chance that he'll become a vegetable, if he comes out of his coma. My heart sank when I got the message. Even if he comes out of the coma without his mobility affected, his riding days are as good as over. And there's the bike, a ride I wanted to keep for local transport, which is probably as good as scrap.

My mother worries endlessly about me riding my bike, and endlessly asks me when I am going to sell my bike. While I understand her concern, I have come to believe that where I am now, what I am doing now, is a place and position that God wants me to be in order to fulfill a certain task. All those years before, I'd never considered riding a bike before, citing the danger it posed as reason for utterly rejecting that mode of transport, even though my father was riding even before I was born. There must be a reason why I suddenly became so passionate about bikes, disregarding my previous notions, accruing knowledge that some riders with far more riding experience have no idea about.

I'd like to think that, no matter what the task may be, God put me here for a reason. Perhaps He wants me to act as an influence within the biking fraternity, spread His Word to my fellow bikers. Or maybe, by sharing my biking knowledge, viewing bikes for my friends who want to buy bikes, I'd saved a couple of lives when otherwise, some of them may have procured a faulty bike and got into an accident as a result. I'd like to think I am fulfilling a purpose, and I believe He protects me when I ride. I'd also always believed that when it's time to go, it's time to go. Each person has an alloted time span on Earth. And I believe that before then, God will protect me, as He has done so many times before.

What I am afraid I cannot come to terms with, is the possibility of losing a close friend due to an accident. Having someone close to you pay with his or her life due to someones nonchalance or ego. Even if I was never close to Hart, watching him lie in the SICU brought wrenching pain into my heart. Not knowing. That is the worst. Not knowing if he will live or die. Not knowing whether if he comes around, would it be with full mobility or not. Not knowing anything, not being able to help. And it is in times like these I start to wonder if, perhaps, the cost of riding is too high for me to handle.

I can only commend Hart into the Lord Jesus' hands, and pray that His healing touch will soothe away the pain of him and his family members. Amen.

Riding hard, fast, safely AND taking a few corners.