Posts Tagged ‘Conservative’

Ride Free NSA

July 25, 2013

Motorcycles are becoming more electronic every year. Computer chips control fuel flow to the engine, there are electronic throttles, mileage and range is computer controlled. Each of these systems emit electronic signals that can be captured, downloaded and recorded. Sheriff departments across the nation drive around with special trunk mounted cameras that record license plate information. 1984 is here daddyo!


Browsing steel steeds on wires fast,
Hondas, Harley’s; rides of rigor last-
Anticipate the v-twin bagger sound,
Invoice dollars, shekel, yen or pound.
– All info NSA has duly found…

Rides of chrome and brightest hue,
Processors flash numbers, engine ques.
A GPS will truly guide me home,
Swipe credit card for gas and oil to roam-
– NSA my data doth quick comb…

Park your ride; respite-, tea un-sweet;
Snap license plate, digitized quiet feat!
Tap phone of cell technology to chat-
Her love confessed to silicon disks flat.
– NSA details of data fat-

Times before the 60’s do I crave!
When wrong directly challenged by the brave-
Roads of only sunlight spectrum knew,
Rolling kisses and the wind; sky blue.
– NSA employees very few.


Photon Powered Pistons

September 1, 2011

Sadly, this past week a White House touted solar cell company in California went bust. Solar technology is THE brass ring to green energy, but it seems we just can’t get there today. OK – let’s be realistic. Keep working towards the solar solution; fine. But don’t try to sell an energy pig in a poke today. Get it right, then bring it to market PLEASE!! In the mean time I’ll use my gas and pistons to ride-


Ceasless progress below the sun,

knowing more efficient fun.

Silicon with volts comprise;

gadgets without gas surprise-

Today my ride on pistons – flys!


Panels capture sunlight bright,

built in factories clean and tight.

Lefties mouth a future fine,

except for costs; a cautious sign!

Today my ride on pistons is devine.


Learn we must to use the light-

that God provides and is delight!

Toil on to find the sunshine key;

Electrons flow from sand for free!

Today my ride on pistons set at fifty-two degrees.

Rider Who Stayed out in the Cold

May 20, 2011

The 1965 cold war spy movie – The Spy Who Came in from the Cold –  staring Richard Burton; uniquely distills the caustic fear of ruthless enemies. As the character Control says; ‘We can’t stay outside all the time, we have to come in from the cold’. Wrong! The new Russians are just a warmed over set of commies. Don’t think so – try researching their political support of U.S. foreign policy… You won’t see much support. In addition, even the Bible speaks of the Russians. Check out Ezekiel Chapter 38 and 39. The lesson – stay out in the cold!


Grim design from grudges deep,

Clash red on white make millions sleep-

Treasures lost to hold our ground;

Roll towards the fray, is where I’m found.


Sputnik hurled high overhead;

Fear on fear; go up or dread-

Efforts spent on rocket speed,

Throttle up my chromed out steed!


Formations green of tanks on tanks,

German towns are full of yanks.

Fortunes spent to hold the line-

Acceleration – always fine!


The wall came down; and now we’re friends!

Long knives in sheaths, gold made both ends.

But cracks appear as money boils-

Osama’s dead on other’s soil.


The Middle East is next to flash-

will Moscow lead a ghastly clash?

Simmer on! this war of old-

My handlebars, I grip; still cold.

Kuykendahl Volunteer Motorcycle Philosophy Forum

November 25, 2010

Firstly, the administration. In writing this poem, it turned out to be a piece of verse in what I term ‘The New Yorker School of Poetry’ – which is to say that it doesn’t really have consistent rhyme or rhythm. It’s more like free verse with a little rhyme. OK, enough admin. Do you ever need to commiserate with your associates? So do motorcyclists and bikers. I do it near Kuykendahl Road. Oh, and it is all volunteer work.


Not every day will you find us there, but pretty much-

we volunteer to solve the nation’s ills,

while settled back; above twin cylinders we ride;

near Kuykendahl Road to share our thoughts.


Some scars of Vietnam to heal, with grocery prices rising,

tattoos and smokes are often shared but not universally.

Handlebars make camaraderie,

as banter percolates discourse on riding best of breed.


So park your bike in the coffee shop lot,

no need to order, just show your face.

Grab a chair on the leeward side.

Politics and motorcycle talk proliferates apace.


Old heads who ride those Harleys proud,

and college grads with Hondas sneak upon the group in style-

Young guns on Kawasakis fast and true arrive without their reservations,

yet all mix to speak of weather, spouses and current tribulations.


Some days just two hold court to chat,

beside the traffic’s screech and clatter at the light.

A stealthy biker passes by; pipes loud!

which prompts more talk of who rides right.


Conservatives sit confident in their unruffled best,

our group it welcomes liberals and others; its our quest.

We, most of us; depart with sunset due- and carefully.

To ride creations wonder; then philosophize when day is new.

V-Rod New Years

December 24, 2009

Plagiarized from Clement Clarke Moore (Twas the Night Before Christmas)

Twas the night before New Years and in the garage,

The V-Rod was stirring, parked next to the Dodge.

Its keys were hung neatly arranged on the rack,

I’d slip in a short ride – while they nibbled on snacks.


This cold night for sure – it demanded full dress,

A helmet and gloves, several layers no less.

I quietly rustled around for my boots,

Slipped on my chaps, my best friend in cahoots.


The door closed discretely as a TCLOCS was done,

All systems were readied it was time for some fun!

The engine turned over quite smoothly and quick,

I was off down the road with a thumbs up from Nick.


Just a mile or two – was all the time that I had,

I’d look at some angels, go back home – be a gad.

But what to my wondering eyes did appear-

Lights flashing behind me, some yelling – oh, Dear!


She opened the car door, and made such a clatter,

I shut down my hot V-Rod, to see what was the matter.

“You’ve ruined my party”, – all the neighbors could hear;

My arms fell around her, in regret – drew her near.


“It’s the V-Rod”, I whimpered; just a little white lie,

“It makes you jump on it – and ride?”; her reply.

Overhead there was rumbling, we looked up in full fear,

Air Force One flying over, flaps halfway and with gear!


Obama was waving and throwing out gifts,

“All America loves me, and my emotional lifts!”

He needed some prompting, seemed in love with himself,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!


A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know that our future was dread.

We stood there in wonder as he shouted to us-

“New health care taxation, no more cars – ride the bus!


My V-Rod rode angry as I made my way home,

The wife was a steamin’, when I got to the phone.

Our congressman listed intently at first-

But hinted there might be more news, yet the worst!


“You see, new environment laws will demand,

all gas burning engines may be banned in our land.”

This news was disturbing but taken in stride-

Happy New Year to all – forget Barry – Let’s Ride!

Conservative Cruiser #1

December 11, 2009

Motorcycle riding freedom,

down straight roads-

Oh yes, we need’em,

Squishing some unfortunate toads.

How did all the roads get paved?

With hard earned cash and taxes paid.

Beltway madness pumps out dollars,

Through the west and eastern hollar’s-

How will all this frenzy end?

Riding round the beltway’s bends.