Bike Weak

Collecting all harmony in a tank of gas

I do not intend to toss my peace of mind…far or fast

And, when stage struck by the crackled pavement,

there can be moments of…

imageedit_7_5922669719being off task.

Bound by no determination, I am the wind.

I am the specks of soiled earth…bouncing about shaded glass.

I am

I am

A feeling that is unplanned and never lasts.

The cutting edge of this instant right here and now is always nothing less than the totality of everything there is…robert pirsig

on Two Wheels

You look at where you’re going and where you are and it never makes much sense, but then you look back at where you’ve been and a pattern seems to emerge. And if you project forward from that pattern, then sometimes you can come up with something.

the art of motorcycle maintenance

robert pirsig



 on Two Wheels


Far off is the roller coaster…

Transformed, I am a small child, again, and again.

Awaiting my turn.

Awaiting my seasonal ride.

If I could turn the braided key?

Give spark to the engine?

All day, everyday…

Would my giddiness…still feel its sway?

Would I look over my shoulder?  


Or, enjoy the spoils of always getting in my way?

At one junction…in another life…

In another drive-by…

Living in the sunshine, all the time.

The roller coaster…

The ride…

Had lost all method of surprise!imageedit_8_9453278116


Rides with Wilma

wilma 1

Never had a rocking horse.

Nor an etiquette course.

No, made up, make-up, make believe…resource.

Did not have the usual suspects of delicate needs or powered pink posies…

Always driven by another kind of force.


Sometimes all we have is to go against the winds..

Sometimes all I had were a different sort of imaginary friends.


There is no tellin’ where a two speed dark horse can find her stride.

I only know, with edgy certainty, god’s speed and good speed belongs to the ride.

And, the solo secret to a good ride?

Doing everything you shouldn’t do


the few things you should…with pride.



wilma 3
The place to improve the world is first in one’s own heart and head and hands, and them move outwards from there.  Robert Pirsig

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Art as if Your Life Depended On It

There are no challenges out there not worth dying for.  The chances we take whether depth depriving, death defying or magical have hold of our psyche.  The art of Moped Balancing is no different than flying…you take your eye off the sky and the earth seems to be in the palm of your hands!