BM (26-03-45 / Salford, England)

Jimmy Hogarth's Motorbike

Jimmy Hogarth had a motorbike
both it, and Jim, were wrecks
And the consensus of opinion was
It would break his bloody neck.

But Jimmy didn’t heed them
He’d heard it all before
it’s not surprising that he had
the bloke was eighty four!

How he kept the damn thing going
It was something of an art
People said he used black magic
Just to get the bike to start

The lads down at the bowling club
Tried to get old Jim to stop
But it just seemed to upset him
So they let the subject drop

Mind you, once it was moving
By gum, the thing could shift a bit
Old Jim he liked a turn of speed
And he’d often go for it

But people said he was too old
For the excitement and the speed
That if he didn’t start to act his age
God knows where it would lead

His daughter tried, then Age Concern
To make old Jim slow down
But he told them all to “bugger off!
I'll be a long time in the ground.”

The local bikers loved the guy
if you mentioned him they’d smile
“Yeah we know the guy’s a wrinkly,
but the old fart’s got some style! ”

He shuffled when he walked did Jim
he’d say “not long now ‘til I’m dead”
but sat astride that motorbike
by God his years were shed

But in the end the do-goods won
They took Jims bike away.
So just to spite the kill joy sods
Old Jim died the following day.

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes ) 2

Comments (2)

I feel like I know this man so well after reading that! Im a big fan of poems which rhyme and spring off the page and yours did! theres nothing better than something which can make you smile. You really captured the essence of the character. I typically write funny poems for friends in the B-day cards- but I typically write one offs and never see them again (I tend to leave things exactly as they came out of me head) . I think now I will have to start keeping the quirky little rhymes my friends love so much!
a fantastic poem funny and the meaning of life and death shine in every word the everyday language perfect for the narrative of course, not knowing the lad still how brave a hero death, a matter of slight concern since his life was lived well and true a fine poem