THE RIDE

[Carlos]

THE RIDE
It’s a cool night in the beautiful Arizona desert.
Dressed in full leathers, I back my bike out of the well-lit garage
and into the night.
With one graceful move, I swing a leg over and plant my butt in
the custom saddle.
I check the mirrors, then reach up and push the magic button.
As my 6-cylinder Valkyrie roars to life, I pause at the end of the
driveway and ask the Lord to watch over me this evening and to
get me home safe.
I leave the city lights far behind, their twinkles ever so small
in the mirrors of the bike.
I again get the feeling that I am doing what I was born to do.
As the distance between me and the concrete jungle grows,
I can feel the night air getting cooler.
The sky is crystal clear with a million stars looking down on me.
The unity from the light of the full moon and the headlight of
the bike, illuminate the road in an eerie way.
The smell of desert wildflowers and greasewood bushes, fill the
cool night air and somewhat mesmerize me.
Through the small towns of Cave Creek and Carefree I ride,
noticing, that at this time of night, they are like ghost towns.
Down the twisting high Sonora desert road, keeping watch for the
animals of the night, I head for home.
This has been another pleasurable night for me.
Now I relax, the ride, just a dream.
By Carlos

[Keith]

THE RIDE
It’s a cool night in the beautiful Arizona desert.
Dressed in full leathers, I back my bike out of the well-lit garage
and into the night.
With one graceful move, I swing a leg over and plant my butt in
the custom saddle.
I check the mirrors, then reach up and push the magic button.
As my 6-cylinder Valkyrie roars to life, I pause at the end of the
driveway and ask the Lord to watch over me this evening and to
get me home safe.
I leave the city lights far behind, their twinkles ever so small
in the mirrors of the bike.
I again get the feeling that I am doing what I was born to do.
As the distance between me and the concrete jungle grows,
I can feel the night air getting cooler.
The sky is crystal clear with a million stars looking down on me.
The unity from the light of the full moon and the headlight of
the bike, illuminate the road in an eerie way.
The smell of desert wildflowers and greasewood bushes, fill the
cool night air and somewhat mesmerize me.
Through the small towns of Cave Creek and Carefree I ride,
noticing, that at this time of night, they are like ghost towns.
Down the twisting high Sonora desert road, keeping watch for the
animals of the night, I head for home.
This has been another pleasurable night for me.
Now I relax, the ride, just a dream.
By Carlos

Hi Carlos
The start of your poem confused me a little as you drop the reader in the desert then talk as though we are in suburbia of course as I read on it becomes clear that we are starting a..Bike ride. All the sentiment a biker feels is there for the reader to engage with but many of the points seem labored and rather wordy.

The poem would benefit from a good paring back to punch out the images, I particularly enjoyed the evening ghost towns and the headlight meeting the moon. Watch out for cliche 'The sky is crystal clear with a million stars looking down on me' is cliche.

For me 'plant my butt' and 'magic button' don't really work in this type of poem they are blunt phrases in comparison to the other lines. I look forward to reading your edit as there is a lot to like about your setting and its biker freedom/ born to ride message. Best Keith

[Carlos]

THE RIDE
It’s a cool night in the beautiful Arizona desert.
Dressed in full leathers, I back my bike out of the well-lit garage
and into the night.
With one graceful move, I swing a leg over and plant my butt in
the custom saddle.
I check the mirrors, then reach up and push the magic button.
As my 6-cylinder Valkyrie roars to life, I pause at the end of the
driveway and ask the Lord to watch over me this evening and to
get me home safe.
I leave the city lights far behind, their twinkles ever so small
in the mirrors of the bike.
I again get the feeling that I am doing what I was born to do.
As the distance between me and the concrete jungle grows,
I can feel the night air getting cooler.
The sky is crystal clear with a million stars looking down on me.
The unity from the light of the full moon and the headlight of
the bike, illuminate the road in an eerie way.
The smell of desert wildflowers and greasewood bushes, fill the
cool night air and somewhat mesmerize me.
Through the small towns of Cave Creek and Carefree I ride,
noticing, that at this time of night, they are like ghost towns.
Down the twisting high Sonora desert road, keeping watch for the
animals of the night, I head for home.
This has been another pleasurable night for me.
Now I relax, the ride, just a dream.
By Carlos

Hi Carlos
The start of your poem confused me a little as you drop the reader in the desert then talk as though we are in suburbia of course as I read on it becomes clear that we are starting a..Bike ride. All the sentiment a biker feels is there for the reader to engage with but many of the points seem labored and rather wordy.

The poem would benefit from a good paring back  to punch out the images, I particularly enjoyed the evening ghost towns and the headlight meeting the moon. Watch out for cliche 'The sky is crystal clear with a million stars looking down on me' is cliche.

For me 'plant my butt' and 'magic button' don't really work in this type of poem they are blunt phrases in comparison to the other lines. I look forward to reading your edit as there is a lot to like about your setting and its biker freedom/ born to ride message. Best Keith

Thanks Keith, I see what you mean, I will work on those points.

[billy]

at present it reads like prose. you leave little fore the reader to imagine or see. use more simile or metaphor. cut away anything that draws it into a piece of prose.