Robert M. Simmons  

New Release

            Lines from Beasley

Conceived of Sheila, wench from hell,

described by those who knew her well,

while partying, as fate forebode,

with nomads from the open road,

it was not clear by morning light,

which one the father was that night,

but of contenders there were ten,

and all of them quite able men.

Thus Beasley was a normal lad

with lots of uncles and no dad.

These uncles ten, it has been told,

were bikers all with hearts of gold,

thereby it was his destiny

as branches imitate the tree,

to take his place among the breed

ordained by his uncertain seed.

He grew up in another age

when motorcycles were the rage,

and young men mastered manly arts

like actors studying their parts.

He learned to brag and beat his chest

and talk sports with the very best,

and thought himself free in this world

as all about him forces swirled

that were unknown to his small sphere

of mortals in the atmosphere,

mindless of realms beyond their ken

that shaped their muddled lives back then.

    © 2009 by Robert M. Simmons

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Subjects: poems about, motorcycles, paternity, free will, fate, predetermination, self concept, initiation ceremonies, commercial culture, popular culture, sports, decline of civilization, traffic accidents, roadside memorials, epic poems, poetry, poems

Beasley