opposite of a fence

The opposite of a fence

The opposite of a fence is an entrance sign. An entrance sign lets you know that you are welcome to come right on in. a fence is telling you that you are not , under ant circumstances allowed past this fence. Unless of course there is a gate with is sign that says entrance. Back in PA fences and threatening signes meant nothing what so ever. You would fly through cut fenses and evil signs all day if you were riding your motor bike on some woods trails. The same goes for MTB. You see them as other peoples opinion on the land and not actuality. They are a recommendation to avoid some angry old man with a mean dog and a pistol rammed down the front of his pants. The occurance of meeting one of these guys was almost never. You would only hear stories of it happening to others. Gates are another problem that can cause a similar situation. Your have to either find away around it through the woods if your on a dirtbike or use a large amount of your limited energy to toss your MTB over it. No fun at all. Here in Colorado I have learned that fences, gates and signs are a much more serious matter that you don’t want to mess with. Going up to Wilson peak for example is no laughing matter when you see the gate. I, coming from the sticks of PA though nothing of it. And sure enough we were busted for trespassing. The man telling us off that we are both going to be paying thousands of dollars in fines due to our stupidity. Fortunately our wits got us out of it. We were able to bullshit our way through the mans hard head and summit.

poems

BIT imagery poem

The morning sun pounds the front porch
Locals and tourists alike soak the warmth
The smell of fresh baked goods fill the air
Coffee floating thought the thin empty air
An everything bagel totally stuffed with cream cheese
Last nights pain disappears the more you absorb the sun rays
You feel revived and ready to go on with your day

The midday rain drives us all to cover
A place to sit, A place to talk, a place to watch
A place to munch down until the rain stops.
Clouds part and the sun make the wet road shine
It is time to leave the cover

Nowhere to go and nothing to do
The dark annoys us so we are drawn to the light
Of the porch our place of safety and comfort
The conversations make no sense
We don’t care we all have our slice
The ones with no money drool at the others
Craving a bit they mooch lit someone gives in
The free water cups and greasy plates litter the table
They silver chairs are the center of all pranks
This is where we live and we are proud of it.

Narrative poem Diving board

My toes appear on the edge
Friends yelling, trying to convince me
Saying that I co do it no problem
I believe them
I take a step back
Take a leap forward and commit
Flying into the air throwing my head back
I knew immediately I didn’t have it
I flail and wiggle
Until I smack the water
A sharp sting pain on my side
I take a moment underwater to asses
I pop back up and get the feedback
They tell me I was close
Once I hear that
I erase the pain
Get back on the board
They tell me more speed
I take 2 steps back
Take 2 big leaps forward
I feel myself spin at just the right speed
I straighten out
Feel my toes submerge into the depths
I pop up right away to the sound of cheering
I was the first to do a gainer


Circle poem. Scissors

Scissors
Pencil
Paper
Lines streets
Car
Stickers
Las vegas
Rage
Summer
Mountain bike
Tube
Tubing
Snow
Shred
Hike
Grand Canyon
Sand
Castle
Kid
Legos
Construction
Destruction
Explosion
Bottles
Baked in telluride
Summer
Water
Waterslide
Parking lot
7 springs
Lake
Diving board
Scissor

Numbers poem gloves

I love the feeling of gloves
I love how diverse they can be
How many things they can do
Times without them can be freighting
With you feel invincible
They give you super powers
Warmth and protection
Protection from everything
Everything has potential
Potential to harm your hands
gloves give you confidence
Go faster hit harder be stronger
Gloves prevent your mobility
Ability is lessened
Your skilled fingers
Made less precise
Lowed down
They make you soft, weak
Hot and sweaty

Stream of conscious poem 7UP

Playing 7up killing time in 2nd grade. Meanest and strictest teacher in history gave into to 7up. Maybe it made her think of a time when she was happy. 6th grade, happiest teacher ever chipper old lady that loved us all. She lived close to where I lived deep into the sticks dinner parties at her neighbors house. Me, one other youngster and a zillion grey hairs. Vacations to grey hair central, Florida. Grandparents sit back and relax. I grow up Moving from sand castles to kiteboarding. Outerbanks NC living large no wind chill on the beach, wind go kite launch yourself. Launching into the air from water to air, land to air it’s all the same, awesome. The harder it is to do and the bigger the consequences the better. Risk and reward, that’s what it’s all about, life that is.

Pondering thoughts of “dorie off to Atlanta
This poem is way out there all it is, is a conversation that occurred on some reality TV show on MTV. Total crap. Have I ever eased dropped on someone phone conversation? Not really, the only time I would do that would be for a challenge to try to figure out the voice on the other end belongs to. I Could not care enough what other people are talking about enough to creep on them. Is this poetry? I don’t know poetry is so broad. Any words on a piece of paper can be called poetry. This poem honestly doesn’t remind me of any time in my life. All it reminds me of is those reality TV shows.