Saturday, October 10

Redstone Rockets

Rolling into the night
Parked along the road, I wait
While my fellow roams, unaccompanied
Around sewage lines, drains

So comes the lone rider,
All puzzlement resolved,
So ride along six riders,
As the sun rises in the dawn

And like the sun burns the rooted grass,
The hash I've rolled, burns
As smoke engulfs me inside the lid,
I cut through the road, it turns.

As I climb amid the clouds now,
Reach heights, trying to tame my ride,
The beast, the engine, it roars inside,
Torque it spits, sounding ripped.

Yet the comfort of the fellow rider,
The bulls on parade besides me,
Gives me the push, the strength, a thrust,
To keep on going, it's never too far.

And now as I roll, both ride and hash,
The last one ti me, the final rest,
Bid adieu to the partners in crime,
A crime we do, our level best,
Confused I am, to be happy or sad,
Of a ride that ends, that shouldn't have had.

2 comments:

Che Guevara on the Road... said...

Poem Adit bhai...loved the composition....first time BOP has been mentioned in a poem !!!

Cheers...

Ritayan said...

love the work....sorry i havent been around your blog for quite a while now.....but real good work

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