Archive for March, 2012

Motorcycle Electrical Smartie

March 29, 2012

This post is one of the more esoteric of the smarties’ series. This is where I attempt to put technical aspects of motorcycles into poetic form. This poem tries to describe how electrons and voltage play their role in a motorcycles engine. Whenever vehicle electrical systems are considered, the battery as the ‘well’ of voltage and electron flow performs a vital function to get things going. Once running, the generator or alternator keeps the electrical components pulsed through the voltage regulator and safety fuses. The primary objective of this poem is to confuse someone reading it in the year 3500. Did I succeed?

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Voltage is the sparc that blasts,
Energy from air and gas;
Likewise keys are used for on,
Energize your ride at dawn.

Generator mounted low
Crankshaft in with cover glow.
Around the shaft turns magnets fixed-
Volts they flow towards box that stricts

Electrons from the box just right
Splash through the battery day or night.
Stronger doth the battery grow,
Push pulse through coil to spark plug glow-

And once again returned for sparc-
Electrons lost down piston dark,
But found again as crankshaft turns,
Along the path for voltage churn!

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The Light is Green

March 25, 2012

From the ‘tens upon tens’ of hits this blog receives every month – it’s easy to see that motorcycle poetry is fast becoming the poetic ‘skull candy’ of the 21st century. You guys just can’t live without it. But it’s difficult to come up with a rhyme that defines sub-urban cruising on a V-twin each week. So sometimes I lower the bar with a lyrical complaint. It’s like a ‘friend of Job’ on his motorcycle who’s here to help… What we need is more brotherly love in traffic-

Why is it that some folks stop at an intersection then mentally disengage from their surroundings? They chat on their phones or paint their lips or text their friends. Mean time, the light which only lasts fifteen seconds has been green for five. Very considerate of them for the folks behind…
So here’s to you and your A-D-D problem!

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Blustery sunshine fills spring’s noon,
Out for a drive, your sleek saloon.
Kids in back have too much fun;
Red light and stop, slow shopping run.
It just went green, her bangs undone.

Big intersection, lots of time,
Text tax idea – refund sublime!
You turn around for backseat scream-
Behind you other drivers steam
The light is green; she’s quite serene.

Hip-hop loud we all enjoy,
Pickup high your bully toy!
Diesel fumes they smell so great
Why don’t you participate?
The light is green- accelerate.

Your boyfriend quotes his love again,
Hanging-out is where he’s been;
Attention to the phone so dear,
The horns you hear are at your rear!
The light is green while trailers sneer-

Cruising the Bagel

March 20, 2012

If you are an occasional visitor to this humble blog, you know that The New Yorker magazine has so far refused to publish any of my artifacts. So this effort will be in what I call my ‘New Yorker’ style. Not much rhyming and rather like a fruit bat describing the engineering principles of airflow through an axial jet engine. Now about the title. I was watching The Science Channel and a show about the shape of the universe. You had to choose from the following; bubble, soccer ball, golf course or a bagel. I chose the bagel.

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Can one ride forever towards the edge?
Where time and space dissolve;
A place so strange that even Democrats,
Cannot subsidize a firm resolve.

Do stars and galaxies race away,
Quicker than my V-twin’s throttle max?
Will my headlight’s beam reflect from shimmers,
Off limits formed from pentagons not lax.

Or do I cruise within an elegant design,
Subtle curves which gently fold around-
So that I ride through limitless confines,
The bagel of creation yet astounds!

Fix to previous poem

March 20, 2012

Found a poorly written line in the second ‘paragraph’. Rewrote it. I think it reads better (as a poem) now.

 

Thanks

Signs Along the Way

March 17, 2012

It is important to pass along to future generations of motorcyclists the visual advertising clutter which obscured creations glory. So here is a tome to billboards we all endure.

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Bracelets gleam to charm the few,
groceries priced just right, for you;
That bold new car will set you right!
Of billboards strewn amongst the blight.

Sparkling smiles by Dentist Brown,
It’s sixty-five degrees downtown-
Will purchase house, rundown or new-
Signs with neon red and blue.

Burger Hut just nineteen miles,
Customize your dashboard dials;
Pools we’ll clean of algae stain,
Airline miles for credit strain-

To ride a road of pristine view!
Not endless signs of hawkers spew-
The future looks forever bright,
L-E-Ds scream ‘buy!’- all night.

Motorcycle Side-Stand Haiku

March 11, 2012

It is difficult to enjoy your motorcycle without a side-stand to lean on…

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ride hard against wind

transmission hot but cool chrome

side-stand down to rest

Fuel System Smartie Build

March 9, 2012

Thought I’d start a new class of motorcycle poem called a Smartie. These poems express technical information in poetic form. Hope you enjoy; and don’t forget to browse some of my older submissions!

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High octane at the pump a must,
Push ninety-three or crud and crust.
Cover bright protects the space,
Nozzle goes with gas to place.

Flowing smooth into the tank
With credit card you pay the bank.
Around it swirls, spits and spins,
New tank full, more rider’s whims.

Replace the cap with care and then-
Reset the trip to show you when…
Liquid flows on through the tube,
Injection jets to pistons prove.

Burst of power pushes down,
And makes your bike on-time; Uptown.
So now you see how fuel doth flow-
Smartly keeps you in the know!

Routine Riding

March 7, 2012

This is a follow up to Rides Yet Undone.

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Have you grooved your BMW past pyramids of stone?
raced the MultiStrada over catacombs of martyr’s bone?
blast your Rocket III beside the battlements of Norman lore?
parked to rest your Yamaha on Tripoli’s far and storied shore?

While idling down under have you heard the melody,
of your Fatboy’s twin cam engine as young gulls glide near the sea?
What about volcanic rock, where sulfur fouls the air?
Have you bested grand Mt. Etna on a Kawasaki dare?

Have you rolled a big twin Victory around Paris where it’s quaint,
Or ridden high, the Andies; lack of air will make you faint!
Has your V-twin growled for hours riding south towards Panama?
Smoothly glide your trusty GoldWing past big feedlots – Omaha!

If your riding is just routine; to the store and back again,
Never crossing baking deserts or the rainy plains of Spain.
Never fear, for you’re still members of a great fraternity,
Riding through the ageless breezes full of carbon you can’t see.