Motorcycle Diaries

Pouring out of caves like bats,

We navigate this world of

Narrow alleys, where we

Live and die by jungle laws, and

Fall down into sunless valleys.

 

Forced into the flow,

We are the blood cells of a

Great, unknown being that’s

More but less than human

Watching us with eyes unseeing.

 

Valves open, valves close;

We stop and go, stop and go.

We pretend not to hear

When someone finally screams

The truth -- it’s alien, unclear.

 

Soon, we will all bend

Like him there, swinging a

Thin, shriveled arm.

Soon, we will all break like her

Fragile, expired charm.

 

I found peace once, though

It may have been a dream:

A mountain path, a lonely lake…

There, I was alive for a moment,

But then, I had to wake.

Author's Note

I have been in the saddle a lot this summer riding up and down the west coast of Taiwan, seeing wonderful sights. However, there were some images that left an especially deep impression on me, and came together as a sort of vision about life. These images were: a disturbed woman screaming at the top of her lungs in a busy intersection, a very old man with a bent back walking around a lake, a very old woman pushing an old, empty stroller, and a graveyard on the banks of a lake up in the hills.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

an old empty stroller, which held the dreams she once had.
and the old man with the bent back from a really hard life, and we we think we have it bad.
Each time I feel I have achieved peace...I am put to wonder if it is only a dream.
Is there really true peace at all? Or is peace that alien that may or may not exist.
a very thoughtful write here.
j.

[Laz K.]

Thank you, j. You're a watershed of deep emotions, and insightful and inspiring ideas. I feel like the intended meaning of my obscure poems is often magnified thanks to your comments.

[keith]

'i close my eyes ... i see no more'

what a change this is from the 'normal' ride write
no wind in the hair or bug splattered teeth HA!

your eye is keen your interpretation is admirable
listen to yourself and see that which hides
enjoyable read and ride THANKS PAL!

[Chris Shaw]

The search for peace and contentment doesn't always come easy. It's inside us, if only we can find it. The examples in your author's notes tell us how much suffering there is in the world. I have had moments of pure contentment but it never lasts. Your poem Laz provokes much thinking. In a world of suffering, how do we find our own peace?

Chris

[duff]

Strong images that leave an imprint. Haunting stories of the road and there is nowhere to hide. Nice work.

[Laz K.]

Thanks for reading and commenting.

[John the Baptist]

Looking at the title, I thought of Che Guevara, but this one has nothing to do with revolutionaries. It seems to have been inspired by sights seen on a motorcycle trip which birthed a view of life. It makes me think of the sights the young Buddha saw when first he ventured out of his father's sheltered realm. Life presents many pictures that are unpleasant, such as old age, madness and death. Judging them, we are repelled. Looking at them more closely and impartially, we may come to see why we are here.

[Laz K.]

Your reviews are just as perceptive and thoughtful as your poems. The Buddha allusion hit me hard - I am very grateful for you saying what you did say here.