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    dots Submission Name: My bike or the boy down the road?dots

    Author: Jazzy
    ASL Info:    20/f/USA
    Elite Ratio:    3.89 - 90/221/227
    Words: 394
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 1291
    Average Vote:    5.0000
    Bytes: 2520

       I'll be in highschool in September. I sure hope I don't forget who I am, in some attempt to be something I'm not. I want to remember that sometimes all I need is myself, and that doing nothing can be the most fun in the world.

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsMy bike or the boy down the road?dots

    Sun beating down on my back like
    A cop on some lazy crack fiend.
    Wheels of my disheveled bike
    With their ever-turning love for
    The skewed, summer warm sidewalk.
    Tiger clouds leap across the sky,
    Pouncing on any patch of clear blue
    They deem worthy of their company.

    If I wasn't flying down the
    Street so fast, I'd think there was
    A tornado ripping at my hair,
    Rippling my clothes in a fury of
    Crashing ten foot ocean waves.
    Dandelions erupt from withering
    Green lawns like acne on a
    Stressed out teens face.

    Just like that I'm avoiding
    My life again, pretending it
    Isn't really there. That all I am
    Is this person who smiles up
    At the sun from her father's old
    Bike, who laughs as she rides
    Through a sprinkler of somebody
    Who set it up a little too close
    To the sidewalk. Nothing more
    Than an onlooker, mesmerized
    By the savory aura of other
    People's lives, as she peeks into
    Windows from her bike.

    Sooner or later I'll grow up,
    Maybe then I won't know how
    To appreciate a scalding summer
    Day, when the only thing left
    To do is nothing. Watch the grass
    Grow, and joke with the weeds
    Attacking the front lawn. I'll
    Forget how to pretend that green
    And sky blue are the only real
    Colors, and everything else is
    Just a knock-off.
    I won't care to spend hours just
    Watching the squirrels racing
    Up and down rough tree trunks,
    And robins building nests high
    Up in the tree in the backyard.
    Someday, I'll be desperate for love,
    Flaunting myself for guys who don't
    Really deserve me, and pretending
    That they do. I'll giggle and smile at
    Them, and write cute love notes in
    A frilly pink pen, and dot the 'i's with
    Loopy hearts. Maybe I'll even forget
    How to hug myself when times get
    Rough, and think I need some smooth
    Talking boy to do it for me.

    But until then, I'm happy to
    Just ride my bike in the thick
    Summer air, and try not to pay
    Attention to the sweat gushing
    From my forehead.
    I have more now
    Than I could ever look forward
    To for the future.

    Submitted on 2007-06-15 19:08:17     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I enjoyed the second to last stanza of this. The rest of it was a little too gaudy for my taste and the choice of words in alot of areas were too much for what was necessary in description. But I dug the sarcasm mixture with honesty in that second to last stanza. It was a nice touch. I used to write the same way starting with caps on every line, regardless of whether it started a sentence or not. But it was something I had to teach myself out of, because it is a little distracting, but I also understand why a poet does it.

    | Posted on 2009-02-25 00:00:00 | by MyX | [ Reply to This ]
      i'm surprised no one commented on this.... besides the whole cop and crack fiend line...its exellent...not that its not a good metaphor but it just seems to not work in such a write as this one...considering the subject matter...its amazing how when we hit a certian age we tend to forget the most simple pleasures and the importance of being ourselves and not caring what others think...purps
    | Posted on 2007-07-17 00:00:00 | by purplesun24 | [ Reply to This ]

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