As an enthusiastic longstanding biker and an equally enthusiastic digital artist newbie, I've recently combined these two interests of mine by launching my first pictorial blog – RebelBikerDude's AI Biker Art (click here to view it), in which I present a very diverse range and ever-increasing number of galleries containing my biker/motorcycling-themed digital artwork – the creation of which, incidentally, has proved not only very enjoyable but also extremely therapeutic while I've been dealing with the stress of ongoing medical issues. Moreover, it has also inspired me to write the following brand-new biker-themed poem earlier tonight – at midnight, appropriately enough – which I shall in turn be illustrating accordingly via a gallery of images in my RebelBikerDude art blog very soon (one of which appears above), so be sure to look out for it there [29 May update: I've now completed my Midnight Biker gallery of images - so click here to view it]. As for the Midnight Biker: my concept of him is as a sinister, supernatural biker who seeks to steal and ride away with our vital life-force, our very soul, while we lie asleep at night. But can he be quelled? Read this poem and find out!
THE MIDNIGHT BIKER
What if Midnight were a biker,
Cruising the back streets and alleys
Of our subconscious as we sleep,
A dangerous, dominant darkness,
Lustful and louche in leather,
Slouching dissolutely against a streetlamp-lit wall,
Or sitting astride a twin-wheeled monster of menace,
A dread shadow hag-riding our prone somnolent slumber
Beneath the silent setting of the sun,
Confrontational and confident, powerful and purposeful,
As he gazes down disdainfully upon our weak, submissive mortality,
Pitilessly upon our drowsing dream-led ramblings
Through the cryptic hinterlands of our hidden soul?
But even as he steps forth from the subtle shades of evening,
Ever-changing yet ageless, embodying our primeval fears
Of darkness, of dwindling, diminishing, and ultimately of death,
And now about to claim and to conquer,
To overpower and overcome,
With chilling, all-consuming certainty,
Another soul to steal and ride away with
On his steeled, wheeled steed of steel,
The first flush of Dawn appears upon the horizon,
A new day inexorably approaching,
To banish all nocturnal soporific phantoms from our mind –
And the Midnight Biker is gone,
For now…
