Motorcycle Leather

[Wjames]

Gravel punctures the tire's lung
and I roll down the hill into the brush,
branches clawing at my face
and hands, drawing blood.

I stand up slowly,
stones stuck inside the skin
I wear above my heart.

[Knot]

Hi Wjames.


Economically drawn, but
could be a little tighter I
think.


Motorcycle Leather


Gravel punctures the lung
[of the tire,] I roll.
[b]ranches claw at my face[,]
[[/b]my] [b]hands, draw blood.


[S]lowly I stand up[.]
[S]tones [have] stuck inside
[/b]- anything a bit more dynamic
than 'stuck inside'?
[b]the skin above my heart.
[/b]- I think 'I wear' is unnecessary
given the title.


Enjoyed the read.


Best, Knot.

.

[CRNDLSM]

I can't break out of a narrative, if it's about a motorcycle accident I love the imagery but for deeper metaphorical symbolism I'm not quite there.

Gravel punctures the tire's lung great line
and I roll down the hill into the brush,
branches clawing at my face
and hands, drawing blood. Appropriate line break between face and hands, branches drawing blood on the body, hands drawing blood on the pavement or face, face, was there a helmet? 

I stand up slowly, of course you do, but it's too telling, 
stones stuck inside the skin treating the motorcycle leather like a body part
I wear above my heart. But why? Thankful for the clothing, motorcycles are life, I think I get 'what' you're saying, but I'm not convinced 'why'.  

[billy]

hi wjames. i like how try and bring the bike to life and the last stanza works well though i wear above my heart only just scrapes through this side of cliche. lines 3 and 4 however feel like they could be more original. i'd also like to see the poem extended and filled in with more info and imagery

Gravel punctures the tire's lung good original start, i like how you begin by imbuing life into the bike.
and I roll down the hill into the brush,
branches clawing at my face a bit of cliche, can you say the same thing in a different way?
and hands, drawing blood.

I stand up slowly,
stones stuck inside the skin now this is an original line for bike leathers
I wear above my heart.

[Richard]

Hey Wjames,
I like some of the imagery here. However, I do have some thoughts:

Gravel punctures the tire's lung -I like this image. It describes the blown tire well with personification.
and I roll down the hill into the brush, -Between the personification in the first line and the third line, this line feels a little flat. Is there a more jarring way to describe rolling down the hill?
branches clawing at my face
and hands, drawing blood. -Again, the blood image here feels a bit flat. How does the speaker feel about seeing his/her own blood? Maybe use a different word than "drawing"?

I stand up slowly,
stones stuck inside the skin -I feel like you need to go back to the idea of puncturing here. There needs to be a more vivid word than "stuck".
I wear above my heart. -I don't quite get why you end with an image of a heart. Maybe return to the lungs by describing the rider's broken or panicked breathing? Just a thought.

I hope I wasn't too harsh here, and I look forward to seeing where you take it from here.

Thanks for the read,
Richard

[Xlateralus]

Gravel punctures the tire's lung
and I roll down the hill into the brush,
branches clawing at my face
and hands, drawing blood.


For the most part, this reads like a guy getting flung off a bike, as you read it the rythm works. I would cut the from “the brush” and the “clawing”, i would use a different word as the awe sound doesn’t match with the stanza. Not totally sure if I am buying “tire’s lung” but it sounds good so i’ll give it a pass.

I stand up slowly,
stones stuck inside the skin
I wear above my heart.

stones is a bit heavy handed. I’m guessing you centered on stones for the sonics... I just think the poem lacks payoff. Maybe, not being a rider myself i am missing something.. but the skin you wear above your heart - the significance isn’t apparent. Thick skin over your heart i get, but above your heart.... hmm. Then the stones stuck in, it’s a mess.