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





Riding on lightning

For a long while I have been riding a motorbike without a license. Shocking, huh? Not to me. I failed that simple test so many times part of me said screw the system and I flung myself onto that iron horse and rode for a good few months. I went everywhere while secretly knowing I wasn’t wearing the badge that said I knew what I was doing. Time went by and there were a few bumps in the road. The short story is I landed up in an accident and now I decided, my pony lies in the garage until I’m official.

One problem. I still have the keys. (Once a week or so I sneak a little ride in when no one is really paying attention.) Today when I hurtled out the front door this morning, I had to restrain my hand reaching for the keys. This made me stop and think, perhaps I’m the urban version of a recovering alcoholic. The bike sits there, collecting dust. It sits there collecting dust…that’s it. No rider to nurture it in the howling wind, or the regular glug of fuel into its petrol tank. Only the empty garage to hold it, and the lonely key swinging from its lanyard in the kitchen.

You might say to me, “Well, it is just a machine, you don’t need to get bleary-eyed over the whole saga”. Sad, yes perhaps…but fascinating. I can now imagine a middle aged drink walking the same arduous route to work. Gazing at the gleam, and haunting glisten of new bottles, standing out like polished soldiers. I know what it’s like to pause in front of the shop (much like I did), and carry on walking. It’s difficult and slow.

I’ve had a drinking problem in the past. Many people do, but this time it feels different. There’s just me, the bike, and the ominous garage. That’s it.



Look after

One of the first signs of being passionate something is when you begin to feel. I used to live with someone who told me that you have to see a motorbike as a person. I bought one end of last year and he told me that I need to get a better exhaust so she can breathe better. I need to service this and that, occasionally give her a good clean.

At first the mention of seeing this piece of steel as a person, made me wrinkle my nose in confusion. As he went on I began to see the relevance. Your important possessions you need to maintain and nurture. I’m no master of the motorbike, however put me behind a computer and my eyes light up much the same.

When I left school my parents bought me a computer as a good-luck-out-there present. That same motherboard lasted me four years. That’s an eternity in the PC world. Think of owning a pair of shoes for 5 years (i.e. ones you use everyday) and you’re on the right track. My mother used to utter a phrase to me, every time something more valuable came into my reach. She simply said, “Look after.” I used to roll my teenage eyes back in angst, when that phrase came out. Now I look at it I can see EXACTLY the meaning behind it. I no longer look like I’m having a small seizure either.

I’ve seen so many people throw down there laptops, or just leave it running down to the last morsels of cache. Here’s a better example… Ever owned a laptop and left it plugged into the charger over night? That’s bad. Very baaaad. If you’re nodding your head it’s time to repent and allow the lithium cycles in your battery to themselves. Every battery (in an ideal world) will run from a vibrant 100% charged to a pitiful 0-10%, every day. For arguments sake a battery comes with 1500 cycles. That means fifteen hundred chances at holding charge for you, while you scamper off to meetings.

The idea is to have as much of that as possible. If you leave your laptop plugged in all the time, you’re hurtling current at the dear battery when none is required, and more importantly you’re stunting its ability to be a battery (slowly lose charge over time). Think of it this way. Do you leave the stove on when you’re done cooking? Nope. It draws power, and keeping it on will burn the shit out of your stove plates. Same idea. Charge when needed, otherwise allow it to sleep like the rest of us (pun duly intended).

Now think of the computer as a human. You paid a couple of grand to get it, so for fuck’s sake give it some TLC. Go and get a comfortable bag for it, and research how to take care of it. This is not a rant at stupid people, but more a reminder at the end of the day all our equipments asks is that we “Look after [it].”

Treat your gadgets tenderly as you would a lover. Chances are they may even help to get you laid, at the end of the day.



Riding with the wind

For those of you who have been reading my blog for some time now, you’ll notice that I’ve been struggling with Depression for a few years. Although this post isn’t about those mundane details, but rather how I’ve got more and more of my head above the water. I love images, because I’m a writer and they also help us construct a story others may fail to grasp initially.

Picture depression (in the emotion sense, at least) as having your head immersed in water. Sounds are dull, if you try open your eyes to see, your vision is blurry. This is what’s it’s seemed like looking back at it. It’s still there, I can still slip into that dark isolation if I don’t monitor myself, just like two beer glasses may tip a man over the edge and end his marriage. What I’m trying to say is this year I’ve done away with having my head thrust in the water.

As the year comes to an end, we naturally look back at the progress and mishaps that have shaped us in it. For me it’s been a year of firsts. One year and oodles of changes that has been exhilarating.

This year I’ve had my first:
Well paid full-time job,
– Apartment (the rent I can pay because of my job).
– Deck of Tarot cards.
– Tattoo.
– Laptop (which has benefitted me hugely at work).
– Motorbike (and naturally my first few accidents along with it.)

When I put my legs between the engine of that motorbike, it’s almost magical. It’s something about having that raw, unharnessed energy pulling you with the wind. I also realize that we’re not that far away from the medieval era. We still wear helmets and gloves but only to protect us from crashing, and not an enemy’s pike.

If you’ve owned a car before, the first few weeks you get it you’re excited and drive it everywhere. After a while though, you just become used to it. Driving a car is practically like riding around in a smaller version of your house. A small little bubble, where you’ll hoard more cigarette boxes and CDs you’ll only ever listen to twice. I don’t think the thrill of owning this iron horse will wear thin.

At the end of everyday, I put on my heavy jacket then the helmet, and finally my knobbed gloves. It takes a bit of extra time to do all that, yet I can feel myself smiling on the inside whenever I do it. I’m preparing for the ride of my life. You can’t compare that feeling to anything.

Sometime back while I was in the process of getting a bike. I spoke to people, read magazines, and tried to get an idea of a good bike to get and what to look out for. Since it was going to be a substantial purchase on my part, I felt I at least needed to do the research. Anyway, the only thing that bothered me during my initial quest was the general negativity of non-bikers. When I told friends, colleagues and acquaintances of my desire to ride the road on two wheels, I was under the impression I was signing a death warrant.

Naturally bike accidents will be more gory, since you’ve got little protecting you from a far larger piece of steel. This wasn’t a great deal of encouragement, being told the amount of times I’m going to crash, before I got in the driver’s seat. The funny thing is I’m still alive writing this. Ok…I recently hit some gravel coming around a bend, and so I’m sitting at home with my foot up for a week, but I can live with that.

I remember speaking to an experienced biker (who worked at a Ducati shop). He said to me, “A general rule of thumb is every biker will have three accidents in their life.”

Considering this is the second time I’ve embraced the tarmac (with no broken bones) I’d say I’m damn careful.