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The Holy Ranger Poems

On, in reference to THE HOLY RANGER: HARLEY-DAVIDSON POEMS by Dr. Martin Jack Rosenblum, a reader from Florida wrote a Customer Review that gave the book's Ranger Evopoetic Poetry a Five-Star rating, which is the highest. Here is that unsolicited Review:

"Martin Jack Rosenblum in this collection conveys the thrill of owning and riding the pride of America - the Harley-Davidson. The reader also gets a glimpse of a childhood and a life in America's heartland, and frequently draws parallels between the modern biker and the horsemen of the old west. In the past, Harley lovers have fallen back on the old saw, "If I have to explain, you wouldn't understand" as a way to avoid putting words to something embraced so passionately".
Now they can say "Read Rosenblum; he explains ... and you will understand!"

Last updated January 1,2005.

Memory Inversion

hey, baby (which
sounds better during
a guitar break, sure
I know that, you
slink back when
sleep pops open
! today
it is cold, yes
-terday, why
, the sun -- it
was just terrible.

every time
I hit that

spot on the trail
that spring
leading to the lake
right around dawn I
hear a woodpecker &
rabbits jump out at
the same places.

once I found a snapping
turtle laying eggs too
close to the path &
lifted her out of
trench & she
hissed & tried
to hurt me
but I got
her into
cover to
the act.

from here
I can see

the sun moving yet
across the courtyard
into bushes
under my window & in my
office across the sill
onto a typeface expanding
through inverted
slats just like
remembering upon
. the office dimmed
& there's a need
to switch on that
lamp I light
Virginia flake in
a briar instead
& do not go homoe, another backlit surface
moved upon from
another source.

so that other morning
a turtle is flatened

probably by a car & dried
out it is on the walk in front
of me, timing the final stretch
I ran every day in the fashion
of erupting similarity as with
the hammer on this antique Colt
Pocket Navy clicking into
historical pentration
zones that must synchronize
with those

after adjusting the stop-
watch compensating for an

urgent Kung-fu rooting motion
then sweeping kick relieving
this slab from its flat death
onto a trim Lake Drive lawn:

as though a burner through
my left shoulder in a power
drif with free weight rattle
syncopation injury back then
a healing root sprouted in
arcane cells nearer the
warrior blood
which when
greets dark with dark to have light
for this kind
shines into

was it yesterday
again, baby (& again
better coming down at
the dominant into minor
riffing to get under more
when I sliced
open in kitchen
psychosis scars
evidently not
tempered until
I crook my whole
hand deflecting lit porch lamp
beams starting up into night wind

around dawn seekers muddle back to the stones
& invention will have proven itself or ritual

shall take over .

mounting the saddle
above chrome V-Twin

Harley-Davidson heads
& turning inserted key
not yet to Sportster light
on position as system wired
capable that way then as initial
gear after sidecut pipes have
produced the familiar rumble
is gotten by leather boot
down on shifter arm
buckhorn bars held:
power has produced only exhaust
-ing morning idle which leads
to where cobwebs
still hang dew along roadside
& a stop to warm hands on oil
tank in hunched reverie
while pulling the Randall
from saddlebags to stab a hunk
of hard bread inverts
memorable use
so then
the best
move is to
be just warm
enough to cut
the bread only

as feet upon
hiway pegs next
pull miles beneath
for afternoon sun heat
reflects upon dials that are measuring how far to go
that are lit by unseen bulbs
along the bezel & when I ease
into the tall gear & punch Milwaukee Iron
stones will scatter wasted upon the surface.

Four Wisconsin Photos Taken from a Harley Pillion Pad

for a distance
a brick wall
is in its parts
pieces sorted along
railroad track edges
to the dedtination
(more of the purpose
is hidden by the oak.
a sloppy wooden fence with
a door in it on both sides
the fencing weathered away
either enter properly
or step through
the fence proper.

some shopping carts
in a meadow
black birds on them
four cows pushing
brush around the siding
an old Plymouth
the watering bin
other cars perch in directions
some newer forming
a rusted grid.

power lines
hung on vectors
bridges over
parallel passages
the scene goes in
or out it goes seen

snow increases
its pattern
binding the landscape
. look into
dark white
tree branches fallen
poking out
shocking grass this
too a graphic setting.

85th Anniversary Homecoming Contemplation

out of the Kenosha holding strip
onto 94 with all areas alongside

covered by raised fists & victory
then on p.43 of the HD magazine I

find my Harley racing orange front
fender in the photo coming around

the bend in back & my beard sprouting
out from the black helmet -- well being

there in June & here now in my office
between appointments just from buying

this to read & opening my napkin
to keep sandwich crumbs off that

front fender it coming at me
as I was upon it with cycles

behind in columns roaring
& such lovely ladies with

leather fringe sparkling
upon the interstate path

into Milwaukee Iron
coming home I rode:

a pack of Strokers
at my side & front

to rear passion
burning V-Twins

in the mystical
gas tank logos'

signatures that
chant the poems

I cannot write.

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