in the evening he slides
onto his motorbike
it bristles with angst

he carves through the road
(as supple as a tongue)
the stars jostle
passed pious heads
of clouds

his iron stallion pauses
at the throbbing traffic light
impatience quivers inside
his throat

a green ghost oozes
whirls briefly before
the stallion soars
through the ether

his eyes are open
or even alive to pulses
of motion that fall
into a sublime being

who dances
in the face
of the fuel tank





a mind that twitches

These are the events.
I gobbled up my supper, and then lay on the sofa dozing off while my kid sister’s computer games involuntarily squawked through the cushioned speakers. Soon enough I had fallen, into a early evening cathartic coma. I don’t know what exactly woke me, but I remember stumbling into an awake position while my thoughts rippled and washed through me. I tried to peel the dream-induced drunkenness from my head by wandering the house for a few brief moments. I considered going upstairs, but then I told myself it’d just be another night of falling asleep in front of the half-finished movie. I needed to clear my thoughts. I needed to take a ride.

So I decided to swing a sturdy leg over my motorcycle and allow the cool evening breeze to whisk my thoughts around for some time. I thought of visiting an obscure garage a few kilometers away. They sold good chocolate, and it would give me the rider’s excuse of weave through the pock-marked suburbs, buy some time. I wanted this ride to take as long as possible.

The good news is…it did. I drifted at a lazy pace (at times), through the silent houses and down empty roads. There is one hill I always go down at night, without holding onto the handle bars. It sounds extremely dangerous, although it’s some advice a seasoned biker once gave me. Every now and again you should get used to the weight of you own bike, and be able to maneuver it without relying of the handlebars. This is for a practical reason, because most people panic in ‘close calls’. When this happens generally the handlebars swivel too quickly, you embrace the Tarmac too lovingly, and you bones crunch with applause (worse case, of course). So I entered the top of the hill with my bike doing about 40-50 km/h and I gracefully, eased around the bend, pushing my weight to the right while my hands rested on the fuel tank. I glided towards the bottom of the hill and then eventually I stood up with my hands out stretched, as if greeting the stars and evening air as my audience.

After a few more turns and twists I came across that teeny garage. Decided against the Lindt chocolate after examining the somewhat sobering price-tag, and bought five strips of Licorice and a soft drink. I sat on the benches outside, taking the evening air, and the quiet that comes with it. Sometimes you needs to escape out of the house and just let your thoughts amble. The cool breeze, and patchy clouds watching me like sentient beings from above, it was beautiful.

Now why am I telling you all of this wonderful stuff? Simply because I have a mind that twitches. It’s restless. It keeps me up late into the evening, many nights in a row. Despite the obvious strain this puts on me, I’m slowly learning to handle it. It’s tough at times. A few minutes before I wrote this blog post I listened to all three movements of Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight’ piano concerto. Listening to the melodies, the turbulent emotion and the gentle harmonies wafting in, it felt like I was on some kind of drug for a few moments. Time seemed to morph into another type of entity, and it was just me and
Ludwig’s concerto trickling through my earphones.

Although it helped to calm me down slightly my mind is still in it’s twitching business. Hopefully by the time I’ve written up a new blog post, you will find me better rested.