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Here is a collection of Biker Poetry by Plumber gaplumber@yahoo.com
VATICAN CHRISTMAS TREE
They cut a tree today
Chipped away at my soul
From Austria to Vatican
How can humans be so cold
Have mercy people
Is nothing sacred
This tree 120 years old
And humans raped it
It turns my stomach
What we have done
To this planet, giver of life
Come a day we’ll be gone
She was here before us
Will be here a while longer
Instead of take take take
Giving will make us stronger.
Plumber
c/08
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I can feel the pain
Of others
Sometimes a burden
To carry around
No peace
To be found
A place
Deep within
Know not why
My load to carry
Plumber
c/08
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Feel like I am riding thru the sky
On my Harley electra glide
Can see a poker run in my honor
They only do that for goners
The run is for little kids
Why all the scratches on my lid
There’s my bro’s toasting me
Here I am why can’t they see
Selling shirts with my picture
Why can’t I see it a bit clearer
The spread of food has no smell
No one looks when I yell
My bike is there all banged up
Brought it in a pickup truck
Bro’s are laughing women crying
Please pass a piece of that pie
There are some oysters what a treat
Why are the clouds at my feet
I must be dreaming need to wake up
Get my bike out of that damn truck
Feeling many lumps on my head
Could it be that I am dead???
Plumber
c/08
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for Eddie Sorez
What a thrill is was
To click on the Scribe’s site
Found my name there
Much to my delight.
Right there next to Peddlar’s
Gypsy’s and MarySusan’s too
I really feel inadequate
Want am I going to do?
Read your bio brother
We’ve both had hard lives
But we are still writing
Trying hard to survive.
We share the name Bonnie
Best bike I’ve ever had
Saw where you lost yours
That just makes me sad.
Much respect to the man
I have yet to meet
Best wishes to you Eddie
Biker world is at your feet.
Plumber
c/08
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Words come
Sometimes not
Thoughts are still there
Frustrating lot
At times
Flow unstoppable
Life experiences
Make possible
Takes courage
To expose
Internal feelings
Other poets know
Survival dictates
Keeping within
Secrets shared
Words mend
Plumber
c/08
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A cold and rainy day
Suit up to ride any way
This is what we do
Some have no clue
Pavement pooled and wet
Trials of a riding vet
Road spray upon face
Stinging can of mace
Penetration of leathers
Dealing with the weather
No wipers or heat
Motor warming the feet
A biker doesn’t notice
No place for the novice
Plumber
c/08
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Dad called me a bike whore,
What is that supposed to mean,
Well Son, that is because,
You’ll ride any damn thing.
I guess that is a compliment,
Gotten honestly thru genes,
Pretty much just like him,
Who is he, calling me names.
We’ve always had bikes,
Every since I can remember,
Different brands and styles,
So many, it’s hard to number.
Only two wheels needed,
Small and large, back to small,
The small ones are more fun,
We have ridden them all.
Plumber
c/08
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Chaps no longer shine
Gloves are faded and worn
Long ago in this beat up jacket
Another biker was born.
Vest is sagging under it’s weight
Too many rest in peace patches
Tried to sew them on evenly
Just so it matches.
My bike is a little torn
But she’s by no means tired
Still runs in the triple digits
When I get a little wired.
Plumber
c/08
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Raining, I did not notice
Will not slow me down
Enjoying the landscape
Headed for the next town.
Cold cannot penetrate
The spirit of a biker
Heat flowing from the jugs
Warming as a mother.
Bugs hitting glasses
White specks on vest
Ride with mouth open
Swallow the rest.
Objects on the road
Pointing out to cages
Looking out for brothers
Habit from the ages.
Plumber
c/08
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1%
One percenters are a different breed
There’s a few that I know
Watch them ride in formation
It is a hell of a show.
I think there are a few of us
That have one percenter traits
A lot have biker acquaintances
Few have brothers and mates.
Eating, sleeping and breathing motorcycles
Most do not live it everyday
These men who ride without fear
This is their live’s way.
Respect, honesty and brotherhood
These things they are sure of
Families, work and friends have their place
But his bike is the first love.
Plumber
c/08
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I ride to be free
You can not bind me
I live to ride
Have other feelings inside
The feeling of the wind
Could almost be a sin
The pounding of the road
Releasing the heavy load
One with the soaking rain
A feeling I can not explain
Vibration of the motor
Comforting as a mother
The rattle of chain
Over and over, again and again
One with the pavement
Sensation heaven sent
Plumber
c/08
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Are we thrill seekers or misfits,
Those of us on two wheels,
Could be life or death,
We know the deal.
Watching the asphalt fly by,
Dodging all the cages,
Life and death struggle,
Going on for ages.
Racing the wind,
We wear boots, chaps and vests,
Loving the danger,
Makes us different from the rest.
Riding solo or with a brotherhood,
It is all the same wind,
Sharing the two wheel spirit,
I think that makes us all kin.
Plumber
c/08
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Riding in the rain
Ain’t a big thing
Dad said
If you ride
You’re gonna get wet.
If you keep riding
You’ll dry off
Soaked and cold
That’s the cost.
Main thing is
Watch the cages
They have no patience
When the road rages.
Plumber
c/08
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