The city today is a blanket of fog
With sirens out at sea that howl like a dog
Fluorescent ghosts pedal watchful and alert
Whilst they find a path so downhill they can skirt
Category Archives: Poems
New Viennese appointment for Borracce di poesia
New Viennese appointment for Borracce di poesia. The project returns to the Austrian capital after the experience there last June when they exhibited for the first time outside of Italy thanks to winning the Cycling Visionaries Awards organized by Velo-City 2013: an event of meetings, planning, exchange of ideas between experts and enthusiasts of urban cycling, intermodality and new mobility.
Borracce di poesia is therefore in Vienna from the 13th to the 18th of September to participate in “Radkult”, a thematic festival that promotes the culture of the bicycle, particularly in urban areas, through workshops, games, films, cycle rides, installations and exhibitions.
During the festival Borracce di poesia will hold readings during which they will distribute, amongst other things, one-hundred water-bottles each containing a “roll” with a rhyme dedicated to bicycles, chosen from those of the English versions. The translation of the quatrains into English, edited by Laura Pakes, began due to Velo-City.
The bike in all of it’s finery
Pass the cable through the frame and the front wheel
and fix the back one to a post not a tree
lock the saddle with a chain of hardened steel
Then leave the bike in all of it’s finery
Sorry mate I didn’t see you!
With lights on my helmet and flashing wheel rims
Even my teeth reflect like bright hi-vis things
Bike and I lit-up as a flashing tanker
And still I’m not seen by that 4-wheeled wanker
And you think it is me who started this war?
Phone glued to your ear, conversation in full flow
You don’t look behind and throw open the door
I swerve out of the way with nowhere to go
And you think it is me who started this war?
Do not underestimate the power of a bicycle bell
Like the power contained in a painter’s flick
A bike is equipped with a command unique
The sound of a bell is a magical trick
Clearing paths quickly without having to speak
I sail my bicycle on through a storm
While I sail my bicycle on through a storm
My knuckles are seizing and crack in the cold
But I smile as the helmsman which keeps me warm
As the rudder, my handlebars, glow like gold.
Dedicated to the winter cyclists
Winter cyclists need to have a master plan
Pedalling round with no feeling in their cheeks
As the freezing fog enfolds the traffic jam
Surrounding motorists will think “What a freak!”
One day on the motorway cars will be banned
One day on the motorway cars will be banned
A pathway of cyclists shoulder-to-shoulder
from junction to junction bicycles will span
of every age from younger to older.
Like a swimmer I turn my head for a breath
Like a swimmer I turn my head for a breath
As between the lanes I am passing through
To escape the fumes I move out of my depth
However my bike brings a new point of view.