My Motorcycle


A motor nestled

Between two wheels

Rumble and roar of

The twin cylinders

Knees pressed tightly

Against fuel tank

Leaning into the turns

Like a drunken sailor


My salvation

My shrink

My doctor

My platonic lover

Keeping me



In shape


Connected to

Another reality

Maybe even a

Parallel universe

Gloriously free

Without restraint

Wind in my hair

Smile on my face


Living life how it is meant to be lived

  • Author: Alfred Peyer (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: August 2nd, 2017 01:06
  • Comment from author about the poem: Can't help it, have been riding for most of my life including racing motocross. Cars are just a means to get from one point to another. Motorcycles however are a way of life. Got the bug from my dad, and both my sons have been riding too.
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 840
  • Users favorite of this poem: whisperingquill, Poetic Dan.


  • Michael Edwards

    Do you know I've never ridden a motorcycle but I can well imagine the freedom of it - like this one very muck Fred.

    • FredPeyer

      And I guess the 'muck' was on purpose. I know, they are loud nasty beasts, these bikes! 🙂

    • kevin browne

      love your passion for the two wheeler's Fred. I too was brought up around road and motocross bikes. my father owned and ran a bike shop for 15 yrs so I know the sounds of bikes pretty well.

      • FredPeyer

        Oh man, Kevin, I am envious! Would have loved growing up in a bike shop. Probably would never have left Switzerland!

      • whisperingquill

        I never rode one in my life bro
        but this write has me pondering I have thought about it recently. You make it seem otherworldly you make it seem like being really alive. Great description really surreal.

        • FredPeyer

          Thank you, and your comment is right-on. Just ask anybody who did or is riding. (See Jane's comment above)

        • Goldfinch60

          Totally understand your love of two wheels. Good write.

          • FredPeyer

            Thanks so much Goldfinch! For most it is either love it or hate it. Did not ride though when the kids were young. Did not want them to grow up without a father!

          • orchidee

            That you on that bike there?! You about to ride off on it?! A fine write Fred.

            • FredPeyer

              Yep, but that was a few years ago. Now have an old Honda instead of the BMW. And yes, I was gonna ride off into the sunset! 🙂

              • orchidee

                Where ya going?! Hurry back to write more poems!

              • WriteBeLight

                Great tribute Fred. Great ride!

                • FredPeyer

                  Thank you so much WBL, your comment is appreciated.

                • Poetic Dan

                  Brilliant, well worth the wait my friend.
                  Have you ever read the book " zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance" you reminded me of this with you great wisdom in this post and others about corners 😉

                  • FredPeyer

                    Thank you Dan. Yes, that book is in my library and I did read it. But Dan, while I appreciate the 'corner' hint, my poem 'Just around the corner' is NOT something you want to contemplate while riding. 🙂

                    • Poetic Dan

                      Ha ha, very true.

                    • Louis Gibbs

                      You nailed the glorious, therapeutic feeling of a good ride ... nothing like it! I find any excuse, like a three hour ride this week just to have lunch in another town. A "parallel universe" ... good description, Fred, and a good poem!

                      • FredPeyer

                        Thank you Louis, you are right, riding is therapeutic. I just tell my wife that I have to clear my head and off I go. She understands (I think), but does not want to have anything to do with it.

                      • Heather T

                        The passion felt leaks gloriously through your words. I remember my dad "tucking" me in to ride with him. He looped our belts together, and mom would push my hands down deep in his jean's pockets. I begged him to go faster, but mom said no, which meant wait until we got out of sight!

                        All of my friends ride Harleys. Including my girlfriends, who make regular wind therapy dates. My sweet uncle RJ loved his ride so much (I think he owned four bikes) that upon his way too early death, his favorite bike was brought in to the funeral parlor. That says much.

                        Super enjoyed your write.

                        • FredPeyer

                          Thank you so much Heather. Am a little bit surprised on how many people here ride bikes. But then, poets need to experience a lot of different things in order to fill up the imagination reservoir.

                        • ShannonXx

                          A lovely poem, really enjoyed

                          • FredPeyer

                            Thanks Shannon, it is even more enjoyable when reading while riding 🙂

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