Poetry by Big Dog

Respect for Vets

In times like these we often forget,
The lives we lead are from the sacrifices of vets.

If you are humble and lead a good life
You may find happiness and a nice lookin wife.

For the vet it’s not that easy,
Life is hard and often greasy.

From theatres of war come the ones who know,
Coming home is a real freak show.

If you see them out on the street,
Thank them and offer them something to eat.

They aren’t looking for mercy and often are too proud,
If you could only hear the crying out loud.

They’ve seen things and done things that most can’t reason,
Our political pigs should be tried for treason.

Give respect where respect is due,
The veterans of war are our chosen few.

By “Big Dog” © 2012

Biker Nation

Our bikes come to life with the smell of exhaust and engine vibration,
We ride out into the biker nation.

As we pass the cages they stare out at me.
I see in their eyes the realization that we are free.

This I know they will never be.
We are members of the biker nation.

With leathers and tats we roll down the highway.
In the biker nation we’re free to do things our way.

My bros pull in to the filling station,
Where we seem to be the source of consternation.
We’re not animals, just riders through the biker nation.

Don’t fear what you don’t know.
Cuz It’s not good for your soul.

No matter what your occupation,
You can ride in the biker nation.

Respect is given when respect is earned,
Don’t get it wrong and you won’t get burned.

By “Big Dog” © 2012

Drinkin and Fightin

As I get older I sit and think,
Of the times I had too much to drink.

Runnin my mouth and swinging my fists,
Lucky for me never got in too bad a twist.

Drinkin and fightin as a way of life,
Has taken a toll on me and my wife.

It was fun and exciting while it did last,
I’m thankful for the most it’s in my past.

Now I drink and get sentimental,
Fightin is for the young guns that are proving their metal.

I ride and I drink and I take a toke,
My smile rises up with funky smellin smoke.

Drinkin and fightin can be fun,
If you don’t end up on the wrong end of a gun.

If you are thinkin that this sounds familiar,
Perhaps you’ve lead a life that’s similar.

By “Big Dog” © 2012

Life, a Bike and Bros

Life can be stressful and full of pain.
Sometimes it hurts my fuckin brain.

Once in a while I may lose hope,
Drink to much rum and smoke too much dope.

But then it all becomes crystal clear I decide,
I’m getting on my bike and goin for a ride.

Out on the highway I ride like the wind, my bike
And I are the best of friends.

Now the shit that had me down
Goes away as fast as the miles from town.

I hang with my brothers and laugh for a while.
I sleep that night with a big fuckin smile.

So when life turns shitty and gets you down, jump on your bike
And head outta town!

When everyone seems to be stompin your toes, get on your bike
And go hang with your bros!

By “Big Dog” © 2012

My Ol' Lady

Who’s the one that makes me feel?

The one who knows it’s real.

Who’s the one that lets me in?

The one that smiles with sin.

Who’s the one that’s always there?

The one with long jet black hair.

Who’s the one that bails me out?

The one that can melt me with a pout.

Who’s the one that sacrifices?

My Ol Lady is the best of my vices.

By “Big Dog” © 2012

The Biker Poet

You may be a biker poet.
Hell You might not even know it.

Gather your thoughts and take up the pens.
Putting it on paper is where it begins.

You open your mind and bare your soul.
Words about time spent on the road.

Sometimes it’s easy other times it’s hard.
You play the hand only takin one card.

Road trips give the poet his tools.
His words are for the seasoned and not for fools.

If you take a notion,
Get on your bike and get it in motion.

You may find it’s in your blood,
To write down your thoughts in a great big flood.

Just keep it real and from the heart,
That’s the best place to start.

By “Big Dog” © 2012