The Rider by Naomi Shihab Nye
The Rider
Naomi Shihab NyeA boy told me
if he roller-skated fast enough
his loneliness couldn’t catch up to him,the best reason I ever heard
for trying to be a champion.What I wonder tonight
pedaling hard down King William Street
is if it translates to bicycles.A victory! To leave your loneliness
panting behind you on some street corner
while you float free into a cloud of sudden azaleas,
pink petals that have never felt loneliness,
no matter how slowly they fell.
MARGINALIA
Hello, weekend. Crossing my fingers I get to write and not go back to my desk to work. Or maybe I should go out and see some friends, just to keep the melancholy at bay. A few days ago I have started another journal to talk about the creative process (ha! how pretentious) — well, my creative process, as an attempt to dissect myself and maybe understand if I have a method behind the madness. Been living in my head for far too long; I need to feel that I’m not the only one who’s like this. I feel that by talking about it, by forcing myself to face how I go about my life, then maybe I can learn how to gather my bearings once in a while. And yeah I started it because I can’t afford a shrink (heh), and I really wanted to see one.
Anyway. Here’s one of the loveliest poets ever.
ABOUT NAOMI SHIHAB NYE
Naomi Shihab Nye was born on March 12, 1952, in St. Louis to a Palestinian father and an American mother. Nye is the author of numerous poetry collections, including Grace Notes: Poems about Family (Greenwillow Bookss, 2024); Cast Away: Poems for Our Time (Greenwillow Books, 2020); The Tiny Journalist (BOA Editions, Ltd., 2019); Voices in the Air: Poems for Listeners (Greenwillow Books, 2018); Transfer (BOA Editions, Ltd., 2011); You and Yours (BOA Editions, Ltd., 2005) and 19 Varieties… (more)
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ENDNOTES
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Kimberly
You are not the only one who feels like that. I could have written the very same words, for I have thought them many times. When I try to gather my bearings (also without the needed shrink), I think of this poem: “Being Lived”.
Lately, I’m trying to remember what it is I do and don’t like. I’m trying to do the things I used to like and at least recognize the things I don’t, even if, for now, I have to keep doing them.
Evelyn
I love this poem, it really speaks to me, beautifully written, a literary feat.
Daniella Alejandra Brooks
When was this written