Archive for the ‘Safety’ Category

Traffic Symphony #2

October 9, 2015

Traffic is getting worse all the time. My motorcycle feels it.

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Yield signs, crosswalks, right turn only lanes;
chronic victims texting without looking through their panes-
Stop and go methodically, my V-twin’s heating up,
Turning into coffee shops, abruptly for to sup-

Brake pads wearing rapidly, down to sliver size-
Harsh acceleration thins synthetic oils’ prize.
Highway backups spill into the side-streets evermore…
Politicians promise funding fixes; vaporize galore.

Right wrist sore from flexing lever constantly, to slow-
Glaring green defeated by a towers’ data flow.
“Love thy neighbor always friend”, the Lord has spoken thus…
Otherwise we’d find them neatly tucked below some bus-

Rain on Chrome

August 23, 2013

When you visit this blog, you MUST read more than one of my postings. It’s part of Obamacare now – and the IRS is tracking your participation. But it’s OK because the NSA knows your reading habits anyway. This poetry post is about weather and the abundance of motorcyclist chrome love. BTW, I was unsure how to spell scintillate; but I figured you didn’t know either so here goes….

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Shine, glisten and scintillate;
radiant chemistry ingratiates.
Mist forebodes in chromosomes-
warning hints of rain on chrome!

Majestically bright billows build;
before their condensate, I’m stilled.
Instinctively I ride towards home,
Interdict that rain on chrome!

Circumspect makes rides go right,
sidestep showers; radar sight.
Deceptively the humid roams;
then left am I with rain on chrome…

An Absolute Zero

September 17, 2012

Perfect riding scores on the Motorcycle Basic Rider Course are zeros. It’s like golf; low scores are better. Mostly the perfect scores are a matter of luck. A few are Absolute Zeros.

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Arrive on time with confidence, it seems;
Thoughts of her, no worries in his dreams-
road rules and controls, he’s mastered all,
Attention span is strained; a pool hall.

Dismounting from his ride the pipes they gleam,
Quiet now the pistons rest their scream-
Takes a seat in class amongst the new,
His questions of the course, a very few.

While others halt and stall upon concrete,
He smoothly glides and turns aplomb replete-
Each maneuver challenges, but not for him;
Quietly perfection sings it’s hymn.

Evaluation time the second day,
classmates fret about their scores; dismayed
Authority his ride, delivers absolute-
Perfect marks; and girlfriend quite cute.

Bright Rider Ballad

September 10, 2012

Some riding cultures have a dark aspect. But black clothes, jackets, and other accessories make you hard to see at night; and even in the daytime. I prefer the brighter side of riding for several reasons.

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Dull helmet on a blacked out steed,

accelerating loudly,

inky jackets boast their deeds,

Pounding on, so proudly.

—–

Others cruise on bikes that gleam,

cheerful blooms within the traffic beat.

Flashing bright the sunlight beam-

Gloves of white defeat the heat.

—–

Safety is its own reward,

See and avoid is true!

Brightly gleam a cheery chord-

Reflecting prism hues.

A Quiet Start

May 26, 2012

Spring weekends are great times to ride in South Texas. But being boisterous at five o”clock in the morning doesn’t endear you to your neighbors. Need to leave the neighborhood discreetly! BTW, if you don’t know – mockingbirds sing other birds songs; and some can sing for hours on end… seems like hours anyway.

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Freedom’s breeze demands an early rise,

Before the mockingbird’s melodious lies-

Segmented door retracts above with squeeks;

Ease out the wheels, check floor for oily leaks.

Close up the house with care; inside she sleeps.

—–

V-twin grumbles greeting cloudy dawn,

upon return, quick mow and trim this rowdy lawn.

But now, slowly creep down lonely street;

Careful shift to roll on hard concrete-

and in the mirror reflects my home, wherein she sleeps.

—–

Few RPMs to hide, my V-twin’s decibles contained,

time awaits the road of horsepower unrestrained;

but now I sneak past houses dark within-

To un-disturb the dreaming and their kin,

Behind in darkness she sleeps on-

The road ahead is clear; tis then I grin.

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!

Red Light Runners

February 27, 2012

On my perch at the local Starbucks one can see many interesting traffic events and anomalies. Red light running seems to be a growing problem. People don’t want to slow and wait their turn. Imagine that! I predict it won’t improve because societal stress isn’t going away. So here’s to those who can’t seem to slow as the intersection light goes amber.

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Dump trucks, SUVs and motorcycles too,

At intersections meet; to safely pass on through.

But danger lurks with amber lights;

resentment blooms at traffic slights.

—–

Late or rushed or just plain mad-

ignoring cues; the speeding lad,

demands his rights and faster goes-

under red for other’s woes!

—–

No metal cage or bags of air,

protect the biker, right and fair.

Red Light Runners aim to kill-

Collisions sudden trump your skill.

Road Reader Rider

June 18, 2011

If you ride a motorcycle, you need to remember to read the road as a first priority. Because you are more vulnerable than a four wheeled vehicle, roadway threats like potholes or debris can really ruin your day. Motorcyclists must maintain vigilance and read the road with diligence!

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On motorcycles lean and quick,

look you must; some spots are slick.

Scooters, mopeds, sleds and trikes;

inspect the road, when you ride bikes.

—–

Concrete may be new and bright,

but potholes bite in morning light.

Orphan bricks may give you fright-

headlight beam to search at night!

—–

Faulty asphalt placed by crews,

may feature views of you – on news.

Rain falls gently in your path,

while pickups pass with raging wrath!

—–

To ride a curve takes strategy,

inside-out makes tragedy.

the slope and size, on entry know;

of radius, before you go!

—–

Abandoned boards will slap your wheel,

and toss you off your hard won deal.

So if you ride a v-twin steed;

read the road – always; Indeed!

The Parking Decision

February 26, 2010

Parking your motorcycle is actually a big part of motorcycle ownership. Each time you ride your bike you have to stop and park somewhere… and that is an important decision with respect to bike care and maintenance. Finding a spot with the optimum geometry (slight forward rise and just a hint of left lean) gives the motorcycle the best stability. You want to park away from wind and other drivers if possible. Some thought is needed when parking! As far as the poem goes, I’m still not satisfied with the third section. Any suggestions?

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Along the curve, by fence or post

away from other cars;

Beside the sign with space for most,

No symmetry that mars.

—–

Protected space from wind is best,

a shelter from the rain.

Garage each night for slumber rest,

no rust or dents is gain.

—–

The grade, a shallow rise just right;

to lean it on side left.

A concrete surface is – delight,

or rock, a safety cleft.

—–

For every stop, decide I must,

a place to park my ride.

A quick escape for wonderlust,

dry parking spot abide.

Winter Riding Guilt (saluting e e cummings)

February 26, 2010

E. E. Cummings was a poet who wrote verse with little or no punctuation; which I have always found interesting. So I thought I might write a short verse about feeling guilty riding my motorcycle in the south during the winter months while my northern counterparts aren’t able. Well – there could be some guilt! I’m from up north and feel for those guys who can’t enjoy their rides during the ice season. Note alternate ending!

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no ice or snow to mar my way

i roll the iron windward

the boys up north inside must stay

the guilt i feel is inward

despite the date and lack of heat

the pipes their noises please

the boys up north cannot compete

with a dry and temperate breeze

…. alternate ending

the boys up north cannot compete

but risk untimely sneezes