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17 February 2011 16 comments

5-7-5? Sounds like an odd gear ratio...

Curiosities
By GARETH
5-7-5? Sounds like an odd gear ratio...

The wealth of poetic talent apparent in our blog's comment section and on our Facebook page since the weekend would lead the casual observer to think they had somehow stumbled upon Samuel Coleridge's previously unpublished musings on the subject of cycling up and down hills.

So far we've been (poetic license ahoy) inundated by a flood of burning lungs, oak-heavy limbs, sweat-salty brows and flatteringly happy posteriors.

Most of our haiku writers are managing to keep correct count of their syllables. We had to check this one from Belzal Geretz twice though...

When I saw the box

"SADDLES BAGS ETC."

I knew I had won.

Has lots going for it. Haiku judging panels can never get enough of self-referential playfulness. Opinion is divided in this case, however, as to whether use of the past tense assists, or detracts from, the poem's ability to capture a "moment". Belzal's optimistic offering describes a "moment" for sure, but it perhaps doesn't put "us" right "in" that "moment".

Ken Wolfe's middle name is "Prolific". His nickname is "Punning Yoda".

Sun there is, and time.

My cycle Brooks no excuse.

Today, ride I must.

Here he is again, narrowly avoiding disaster, possibly.

Seconds from a fork!

Speed necessitates instinct.

Swooping to the left!

Whether it's a bona fide moment, or merely a tiny fraction of a second, only Ken can tell us for sure.

Practice does make perfect, though. Here's Ken once more.

Sixty miles til lunch.

Gastric echoes of breakfast.

I regret the milk.

Tough guy Bryan Rierson takes up the story...

Hammering warms me

As the crisp air bites my face

Water bottles freeze

All he needs now is a set of burning lungs and some struggling calf muscles, or vice versa. Step forward James Iain Mackeddie.

Calves burn, Lungs struggle

Slumping on top of saddle

Body pacifies

Not drunkenly passing out at a barbeque while the smoke from grilled steaks wafts over him, as it at first glance might appear.

Seamus Kelly goes all stream-of-consciousness on us...

Hot wind drying throats

Sticky tar stuck tyres dragging

Tea stop quenches thirst

"Tyres" is one syllable, as we saw last week, so it's a regulation seventeen syllables. It's also about seventeen moments, though.

A long journey on ahead

Roll in the wake of

The journey we leave behind

By placing himself ingeniously between a journey "ahead" and a journey "behind" Patrick Foley is on course to capture a moment, but then somehow finds himself rolling in the wake of 19 syllables. Wake up, Patrick!

More waking- Paul Wakefield sticks to seventeen in his lung-free advertisement for the Oxford Rain Cape.

Sleet scythes steel-grey sky.

Gnarled, ancient hills loom; legs groan.

Lights beam hometown hope.

While Jennifer Friesen can manage but (a nonetheless sweet) sixteen,

Target just ahead

Legs outstretched, eyes closed tight

Puddle sprays fender.

Only the lowest of pedants would ask how she knows it's a puddle spraying a fender with her eyes closed tight; but said pedant could be quickly put in his place by informing him that puddle spray makes noise, and that most people use a bit of common sense when they're reading poetry.

Here's a nice one from Thom Denton, describing a spin on his gaffer-taped, cable-tied, twine-clogged frame.

Silent blossoms fall

Obscuring hasty repairs,

Wheels whir softly.

If he's hoping to win new bike parts be causing us to pity him, he's come to the wrong place.

Keep those entries rolling in, preferrably in the comments section below, or alternatively on our Facebook page. We'll have a look at another batch over the next days, as well as a few more of the fine rewards we have on offer for the most pleasing efforts.

Comments
here is mine:

stars are bright tonight
people shine in the moonlight
comets in the sky
roger carlton 23 May 2016 at 15:34
This is the best I could do. haha

I do not believe
The semi-nude bicyclist is
Not bi-curious.
Aaron S. 23 May 2016 at 15:34
Water quenches thirst
Sun rises in the morning
Brooks saddles feel good
Nigel Greene 23 May 2016 at 15:34
here's four haiku making a (true) story:

I have killed my bike
The new one is on the way
Good-bye dear old friend.

I can salvage tires
Saddle and the bungee cords
But not too much else...

I'll leave it outside
Hoping someone will take it
And give it new life

Til then I shall wait
I expect to ride faster:
My new bike is green!
Stepha Zanella 23 May 2016 at 15:34
I wasn't aware
I needed HTML
to put in spaces
Stepha Zanella 23 May 2016 at 15:34
Yay Stepha, see you in March!
BREGAN 23 May 2016 at 15:34
Getting in the miles.
Bad case of Monkey butt, now
Brooks no argument
Paul Wakefield 23 May 2016 at 15:34
Hallo, here are two for trhe competition.

How about the air
Cycling makes the world go round
Black smog, dark city

--

Bike ride through the snow
seeking somekind of treasure
Toes go numb and hurt
Nil 23 May 2016 at 15:34
See you in March, Breg
I want to win this contest
I have a new bike!
Stepha Zanella 23 May 2016 at 15:34
Addictive Haiku,
Once I start you I can't stop!
Goddamn you Bregan...
Stepha Zanella 23 May 2016 at 15:34
trains, boats and two wheels
brought me to my new pony
it'll need new cranks
Stepha Zanella 23 May 2016 at 15:34
My skin feels like pa-
per, the February wind,
booty-grooved leather.
Brent Badeaux 23 May 2016 at 15:34
Exhaust fills my lungs
The stationary cars honk
I pedal faster
Travis Wells 23 May 2016 at 15:34
With Brooks on my bike
Faster and faster I go
The ride never ends
Travis Wells 23 May 2016 at 15:34
Quick tale of the weekend for you:

Adventurous ride
Never before seen landscapes
Bloody hell I’m lost
Matt Elworthy 23 May 2016 at 15:34
Life will reflect my new saddle
Classy, polished
Not split at the seams
Anne-Marie Bur 23 May 2016 at 15:34