Ride's Sounds of Christmas

Ride's Sounds of Christmas
_______________________
written by Rod Hatter ©
Oct. 14, 2012
...
Remembering the Christmas...
my first bike was gifted,
and the rides I took on it,
as my spirits lifted.
Apes and a banana seat,
in the spokes a card,
flapping out good vibrations...
as I peddled hard.
...
Later as a teen,
Christmas time was near.
Something was out in the alley.
Thunder did I hear.
Ran and saw some bikers...
carrying wrapped toys.
Found out they were giving them
to needy girls and boys.
...
Wasn't long after that...
Had to build my ride.
Knew that life would be much better,
as I rode my glide.
Then my wife gave me a gift,
wishing me real well.
On my pegs she did hang,
my guardian angel bell.
...
Christmas time again...
These days, I too ride...
Love to be a part of toy runs.
Smiles just can't hide.
When those gifts are given,
Christmas sounds you'll hear.
One's that really share the season,
as the children cheer.
...
I know Christmas spirits,
they ride right along...
Encouraging us to do our best...
Charity is strong.
As I ride in this parade,
toys and gifts appear,
down below my guardian bell...
It's ringing very clear.
...

Metal Mare's Hard Lesson

We just recently lost a fellow rider because someone pulled out of their driveway in front of him, putting him in the hospital in a coma that he never awoke from. My thoughts and prays to his loved ones. I too had someone turn left in front of me back in 2001 but was lucky enough to recover within a few weeks. This poem tells of stuff that really happens in life on the highway. I sincerely hope it makes us all more aware.



Metal Mare's Hard Lesson
______________________
written by Rod Hatter
July 25, 2012
...
Out this day to find escape...
Chores have got me down.
Get out on my metal mare,
chromed and shiny brown.
Rolling through wild nature,
sights and smells so grand.
Somehow makes me feel like I am...
part of this here land.
...
Ride is soothing...filling voids.
Settles me with ease.
Finding peace...finally mellow.
Soul has found release.
Had great day, feeling better...
Time to head on home...
Rolling down this two lane highway,
homeward bound I roam.
...
Suddenly there is something...
blocking out my view.
Someone pulling out of driveway...
Does not have a clue.
Cannot stop, don't have time.
Have to lay her down.
Me and my sweet metal mare...
pounded to the ground.
Then the crash...
..................now there's darkness,
and I've lost my senses.
All because some rushing fool
didn't give no glances.
...
As I waken...things seem fuzzy...
Somewhat of a blur.
How'd I get here?...Can't remember...
Nothing seems for sure.
All I know for certain,
can't blame metal mare.
Just wrong place, at wrong time...
with no luck to spare.
...
Now I speak for all of us...
who now share our roads.
Let's slow down, take it easy...
Lighten up our loads.
One thing there'll be less of...
That is guilt or pain.
Enjoying life just as it's given...
Savoring all our gains.
We may find that life gets better,
...if we take our time.
Real enchanted poetry...
Harmony in rhyme...

Weekend Miles

Weekend Miles  
written by Rod Hatter
July 25, 2012
...
I may be a weekend warrior.
That much might be true.
Butt, I've riden lots more miles...
than do most of you.
Have to work...earn some bread,
just to have a life.
Also to buy fuel and oil
for both me and wife.
Just last weekend we did ride...
nearly half a thou....
Rode to central part of state,
so charity could endow.
Had a blast, got to party.
Fellow friends who ride.
Even got to do a bike game.
Smiles we can't hide.
Event wild, had great bands,
vendors, and great food.
Real great riders, all well mannered,
for causes oh so good.
Put on by real special folks,
raising funds to give.
Caring for community,
and low income kids.
Now it's Monday, back to work.
Get back in the grind.
So when weekend comes,
pleasures I can find.
Yes, I am a weekend warrior.
We number quite a few,
and we spend our weekends off.
Doing what we do.
Riding, partying, laughing, sharing.
How it's meant to be.
Living life and being free...
Thank God for liberty...

Old School Freedoms Lost

Old School Freedoms Lost

written by Rod Hatter - aka: Panhead Rod - Poet
June 8th, 2012
...
In the old days
I did ride...
any bike I chose.
Bagger, bobber, cruiser, chopper...
Anything that goes...
...
Helmet,
I would leave at home,
'less I chose to wear...
Rather have the sun and wind...
running through my hair...
...
Had no bees...
stinging me...
underneath my lid...
Causing me to pull off road,
'fore it made me skid...
...
Insurance...
then not mandatory...
and I could afford...
Legislators, not their puppets...
being yanked by chords...
...
So much freedom...
took for granite...
as I rode so free...
How'd we let it get so bad?
people, can't you see?
...
Now they talk...
'bout our paint jobs...
Colors that we wear...
When they gonna start to tell us...
"Better cut your hair".
...
What is next?
Will they tell us...
How our butts must fit...
or an airbag, or some beacon...
Makes me want to spit (hey, gotta use my manners...LOL)
...
Constitution...
we're so proud of...
Now it's gone to hell...
Franklin rolling in his grave...
Jefferson as well...
...
Government...
not the answer...
just more politics...
Laws they pass...then spend more money...
While nothing is fixed...
...
Guess I'll ride on...
Look ahead...
Does no good to bitch...
But now with this off my shoulders...
my butt's feeling rich...
...
Ride on...never look back...
Keep an eye on those who make them laws...
and VOTE...Then you too will have a right to bitch...

Change

Change
...
written by Rod Hatter
May 22, 2012
...
Change the color.
Change the smell.
Change it all...
It's gone to Hell.
...
Change the station.
Change the tape.
Change your outlook.
Change landscape.
...
Change a diaper.
Change the bed.
Change a lightbulb.
Change your dreads.
...
Change your glasses.
Change your hair.
Change your wardrobe.
Change underwear.
...
Change your view.
Change your morals.
Change your culture.
Change the florals.
...
Change the format.
Change the text.
Change your habits.
Change your sex.
...
Change your smile.
Change expression.
Change your scheme.
Change direction.
...
Change your party.
Change opinion.
Change your words.
Change ambitions.
...
Change your group.
Change division.
Change your interest.
Change your mission.
...
Change the charges.
Change the plea.
Change your attitude.
Change destiny.
...
Change the menu.
Change the flavor.
Change your diet.
Change behavior.
...
Change your lifestyle.
Change your school.
Change your job.
Change the rules.
...
Change a U-joint.
Change a need.
Change the oil.
Change your speed.
...
Change your dreams.
Change your vision.
Change your thoughts.
Change decisions.
...
Change connections.
Change the bus.
Change is crazy,
for all of us...
...
Change is sometimes good...
Change is sometimes bad...
When I think of all these changes...
I may change quite mad...
...
Change situations.
Change circumstances.
Change your odds.
Change your chances.
...
Change my socks.
Change my shoes.
Change my life.
and fix the blues.
...
Change the sparkplugs.
Adjust the chain.
Change to leathers.
Change to sane...
...
btw: I'm a little low on fuel. You got any spare change?

Freedom's Cost

Freedom's Cost

written by Rod Hatter
May 16, 2012
...
Freedom...sometimes took for granite,
gave through sacrifice...
Ain't no place on this here planet...
free of all demise.
Military soldiers, civil servants too...
There are many individuals...
who gave their life for you.
Some have battled to thwart evil,
knockin' at our door...
Others gave for someone's freedom,
on some distant shore.
Some got caught in burning buildings,
saving someone's life.
Many die in daily struggles...
dealing with our strife...
If you ride a motorcycle,
car, truck, train or plane...
There are some who gave for you,
taking 'way your pain.
Many of our Veterans,
they now ride with pride.
Sharing freedom, brotherhood,
void demons locked inside.
Also firemen, police too...
freedom that they feel on two...
So next time you're out...about...
see a vet or folks on duty...
Smile and wave or give a thanks,
for helping keep you free.
Give them honor and respect,
for yeilding hazard's way...
Remember those who died for you...
on this Memorial Day...

Dead End Road

Dead End Road
______________
written by Rod Hatter
April 11, 2012
...
Dead end road...Dead end road...
A place that leaves friends with a heavy load.
Dead end road...Dead end road...
You better turn around before your life explodes...
...
If you're into drugs and on rides you fly...
someday coming soon you will surely die...
Try to find a way to say goodbye...
to the dope and then just pass it by.
...
Dead end road...Dead end road...
A place that leaves friends with a heavy load.
Dead end road...Dead end road...
You better turn around before your life explodes...
...
When you're riding to and from the drink...
Better use your brains now and start to think...
Alcohol puts you on the very brink...
of lying in the ground in a cold deep stink.
...
Dead end road...Dead end road...
A place that leaves friends with a heavy load.
Dead end road...Dead end road...
You better turn around before your life explodes...
...
Tires going bald and the brakes need fixed
A damn good way to find disaster's mix...
Have your body ended in the sticks...
Ain't no fun for EMTs who now must pick.
...
Dead end road...Dead end road...
A place that leaves friends with a heavy load.
Dead end road...Dead end road...
You better turn around before your life explodes...
...
If you always hammer with the throttle full...
that's a quick way you can end your soul...
May never get to your trips final goal...
Just end up way down deep inside a hole...
...
Dead end road...Dead end road...
A place that leaves friends with a heavy load.
Dead end road...Dead end road...
You better turn around before your life explodes...

Savored History

Savored History
written by Rod Hatter
Feb. 29, 2012
...
Flatheads, Knuckles, Pans or Shovels...
Great machines...not for novels.
Real Iron rides from the U.S.A.,
consuming passions...everyday.
Some leak oil...some have rust...
Still, they run...through winds we lust...
Some are choppers...some are stock.
When together...quite the flock.
They hold memories...They have class.
Look real hard...as next ones pass.
Many start by kicking over,
yet to us, they're still called "Lover".
They are ours...They make us proud,
of our rides...that are so loud.
Some with noise...some in style...
Most are riden...many miles...
We share knowledge...how to fix.
Many of us know some tricks.
Parts...we never throw away...
Save them for a rainy day...
This is why they're still around...
Savored history...Roads they pound.
When a friend is down and out...
All kick in as partners stout.
Share a brew, share some joy...
Just like kids who love their toys.
Fellowship, and honor's pride...
We are thankful...They still ride.

NOTE* Riden is spelled right...
It became ridden sometime after 1959,
but I went to the old school...

ANTICIPATION

ANTICIPATION
written by Rod Hatter
10/28/09
...
Anxiety...
Winter is upon us,
tuck the Pan away,
maybe we will have sunshine,
sometime before May.
...
Precipitation...
That is all you get,
most every winter day.
It used to never bother me,
when our skies were grey.
...
Aging condition...
stiffness and aches.
This applies to both of us.
The Pan and I are both not young,
but live on...yes, we must.
...
Exoneration...
leaves are turning green.
Sun is out, and flowers bloom,
things are stirring, and a movin'
you know it was never doom.
...
Exhileration...
Check out the Pan's tires.
Kick her over once again.
Take her down and fill the tank,
and take her for a spin.
...
Anticipation...
Get up off my ass.
Life is now so grand,
and bitching life is in the past.
so quit yer whinin'...Man!

Scribbling Day

Scribbling Day
written by Rod Hatter
Feb. 10, 2012
...
Start to scribble...then a scroll~
Dotted lines...Curves that roll~
Thoughts came to me...while on ride...
Now those thoughts...my mind can't hide.
So I guess I'll jot them down...
Ponder on 'em...wayward bound...
...
Wonder why the bugs are missin',
while the breeze...my face is kissin'?
Day is warm...so yes...they're out.
Some are little...Some have clout...
As I'm cruisin'...they swing by...
Have not caught one... as I fly.
...
Been out riding...all day long...
Well? I think...Is something wrong?
Haven't seen a fool all day...
Other drivers yield my way.
Not one talking on their phone...
Felt no threats of broken bone...
...
Gently speeding...not too fast...
Ooops...That was a cop I passed.
He just waves to slow me down...
No lights flash...No sirens sound.
As I pass he gives a smile :)
Karma held for many miles...
...
Wow, this ride has been the best...
Nothing put me through a test...
Nature's grand, and weather nice...
As I soaked up highway's spice...
Life is good, and fate was kind...
Making thoughts roll through my mind.
...
So my pen it starts to scribble...
'bout this day I could not quibble,
was a great day...for a ride...
Left me feeling warm inside.
*Note- To carry thoughts this day...
Letting their light... guide my way...
...

Ride's Feast

Ride's Feast
written by Rod Hatter
Jan. 4th, 2012
...
Simple pleasures I enjoy...keep my soul well fed.
Sights and sounds...tastes and flavors...filling up my head.
Joys I find...while going through...all my daily tasks.
Sip them...tasting those escapes...like they're from a flask.
They remind me...more to life...than just paying bills.
Give me fuel...and direction...reinforcing will.
So when chaos gets to me...Hunger's at my side...
I can dine on better things...go out for a ride.
Consume the wonders of the road...Nature's scenes and more...
Holding onto energy...as the belly roars...
Crank the heat up...wheels now spin...dreams become so crisp,
while the wind tries cooling down...with it's gentle wisps...
As the lanes beneath me heat...from the bike's great force...
Let them simmer...stretch it out____like the best main course.
Nature's put much on the plate...mountains, streams and desert...
Appetite is feeling nourished...ingredients well measured.
Now I'm stuffed...satisfied...savored this ride's stew...
Guess it's time to head on home...pop open a brew...
grab a seat...close my eyes...take a break and rest...
Ponder on what should get done?
Worries off my chest...

I AM WHAT I AM....

I AM WHAT I AM....written by Rod Hatter
July 3rd, 2010
...
I'm a toothless old snag,
with fuzz on my face.
My belly is round,
I move a slow pace.
My levis are worn.
My arms show some ink.
I still like my beer,
and yeah, my farts stink.
I  listen to music,
to keep me on track.
I spend time with family,
when I have slack.
I love my old lady,
she's been a good wife.
She rides right beside me,
as we go through life.
I also have close friends,
who I  know do care.
I am really grateful,
for times that we share.
I wake in the a.m.,
but sometimes too late.
It ain't that I partied,
or stayed up too late.
It must be from workin',
but this I must gruel,
cause my bike has needs,
like parts, oil and fuel.
I do have some manners,
kindness and hope.
I quit wasting my life,
on pipe dreams and dope.
I know now there's karma,
we all pay the toll,
for all of our actions,
and through our lifes goals.
I make no excuses.
I really don't care,
what you think about me,
by judging my hair.
I am what I am,
and I have no ados.
I am what I am,
so you be you, too...

Biker Greeting

Biker Greeting
written by Rod Hatter
3-10-2011
...
Musicians, writers, poets too...
...even some that do tattoo...
They show that in biker culture
...many share in art that's true.
...
If you ask them what they think,
...bikers just wont lie.
They will answer honestly,
...even if you cry.
...
Custom bike shows and parades.
...Chrome or paint that glitter...
many biker do enjoy,
...makes the eyes a flitter.
...
On the Salt Flats...at the drags,
...people do pay heed.
These are places that let bikers,
...share a need for speed.
...
Music, vendors and those games,
...at the biker runs,
show that there are many bikers,
...who know to have fun.
...
Candid bluntness, lack of drama,
...coming from a biker...
Lets you know straight up front,
...what may be the striker.
...
Someone ill, friend in need,
...bikers show they care.
Gathering themselves together,
...they'll raise funds to share.
...
"Then came Bronson", "Easyrider"
...David Mann, and more...
They are showing many bikers,
...not in cage, for sure...
...
People say "They're only bikers."
..."They don't really matter."
They are people on the roads,
...who's lives may then be shattered...
...
So next time you see a biker
...riding on the street...
Son or Daughter, Mom or Dad...
...They're someone you should greet...