Author |
Message |
Ezblast
| Posted on Saturday, June 18, 2011 - 01:32 am: |
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Old Friend The last bolt tightened, I wipe off some dirt with my shirt. I mumble to myself, “I don’t ride you enough, not at all.” Eleven years by my side, and today we shall night ride! My leathers creak as I pull them on, all in black, I’m back. Gloves pulled, helmet cinched, petcock turned, key as well. Every scratch I know, every fix I have done, a button pushed. She roars to life, her black soul purrs contentedly – an evil sound. Click, we are off, she glides smooth and sleek, totally unique. Sculpted by time, a mind, and evil intent – she flies easily. More elemental than machine, she dances each corner effortlessly. They said she would never dance, would never fly, could never be. They were wrong, she grew with me, we race the wind and play. Her lights bright, the test a success, my heart quiets with her song. I wonder how long she will live, even perfection does not last. Pulling in, a smile on my face, I mumble, “Damn, that was fun!” In that moment I am glad old friend, and you are beautiful. Motorcycles are made for the moment, in the end that’s all we have.
EZ |
Dynasport
| Posted on Saturday, June 18, 2011 - 01:39 am: |
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Nicely done. |
86129squids
| Posted on Saturday, June 18, 2011 - 01:46 am: |
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Doesn't suck too bad. Your prose grows, methinks, as I scratch my old melon in wonderment and appreciation. |
Whisperstealth
| Posted on Saturday, June 18, 2011 - 02:42 am: |
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Great! I liked it |
Firebolt020283
| Posted on Saturday, June 18, 2011 - 02:51 am: |
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Very cool |
Fahren
| Posted on Saturday, June 18, 2011 - 08:45 am: |
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Ode to Vader. Catches the moment. |
Ezblast
| Posted on Saturday, June 18, 2011 - 12:53 pm: |
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Perhaps, but I stumped the class with the word petcock - lol - in advanced English Lit no less. EZ |
Britchri10
| Posted on Saturday, June 18, 2011 - 02:35 pm: |
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What would an advanced Eng Lit class know about keeping domestic chickens? Chris C |
Ezblast
| Posted on Saturday, June 18, 2011 - 09:17 pm: |
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86129squids
| Posted on Sunday, June 19, 2011 - 12:36 pm: |
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Easy EZ- this here is a family friendly board, watch what you say...
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Ezblast
| Posted on Sunday, June 19, 2011 - 01:45 pm: |
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Here's the latest - left them speechless - lol - the second class assignment - write about love from a different perspective: Love - Death Awaits His chin brushes her shoulder; nose scenting her hair, his lips whisper so softly – a dare. Sweetly she smiles, her arms echoing his embrace; in trance they quicken their pace. Rocking life’s cradle, they loose and find each other, each breath truly a last taste. She shudders, so spent, and sighs, his eye’s squeeze shut, his lips hurling a harsh cry. A hand on his shoulder pulls him aside, two rush forward, life’s champions denied. Wet cheeks, a bloody shirt, car and tree – hammer and anvil – lives not meant to be. He howls - pain’s animal, rain and flashing lights, too much, too lost, nothing is right. Rocking still, a metronome of grief, his knees touch ground, death a heartless thief. At least it wasn't sappy - lol EZ |
Imonabuss
| Posted on Sunday, June 19, 2011 - 11:10 pm: |
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I'm impressed. |
Fahren
| Posted on Monday, June 20, 2011 - 08:30 am: |
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Careful on spelling in an advanced English class: did you mean "lose" rather than "loose?" |
Ezblast
| Posted on Monday, June 20, 2011 - 03:40 pm: |
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Yeah - good catch! Spell check doesn't catch everything, and I do want to maintain my rather wild gpa of 4.0 - I haven't the faintest how I've pulled that off so far, and I always list it as 3.5 on my resume - Thank you! EZ (Message edited by ezblast on June 20, 2011) |
86129squids
| Posted on Monday, June 20, 2011 - 03:58 pm: |
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Fun thread! EZ- dam strait spell cheque won't catch it awl- you best put a harry eyeball on it yourself pry her to submitting to the Brainiac... All throughout my schooling I always excelled in grammar, spelling, syntax, et cetera. I like to go play trivia games at bars, and work at finding screen names that the censor list can't catch- then WINNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Message edited by 86129squids on June 20, 2011) |
Ezblast
| Posted on Monday, June 20, 2011 - 04:22 pm: |
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That could be fun with license plates as well - lol EZ |
Brumbear
| Posted on Monday, June 20, 2011 - 05:27 pm: |
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The janitors scrub brush scrubs in vain. The shythouse poet STRIKES AGAIN. As I read these words of wit. I am happy to have a shyt |
Ezblast
| Posted on Monday, June 20, 2011 - 05:53 pm: |
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LOL - thank you for sharing! EZ |
Mtjm2
| Posted on Monday, June 20, 2011 - 06:17 pm: |
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Nicely done EZ ! But whats up with that seat . |
Ezblast
| Posted on Monday, June 20, 2011 - 07:19 pm: |
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LOL - just being different! - its a Buell thing. EZ |
Mtjm2
| Posted on Monday, June 20, 2011 - 07:37 pm: |
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Sorry to disagree , but that is not a Buell thing . |
Ezblast
| Posted on Monday, June 20, 2011 - 07:54 pm: |
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Really - Who's said said - "Different in every sense!" - lol Its a Corbin at half price - can't beat that, and it separates it from the rest of the pack. Not a big fan of white myself, but I figured I'd rock it for a while, and when and if it gets dingy dye it black - I have two and a half bottles standing by for that day, but right now its usually getting attention in a positive way, so I haven't bothered with it. Heck - it took a good number of hours just modifying it to fit better, done after the picture - lol - you know I've been messing with Blasts for a long time - switching it up, keeps it fresh and fun - that's the idea - right? EZ |
Ezblast
| Posted on Tuesday, June 21, 2011 - 12:54 am: |
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This is what the test ride was about - some in city and country riding to really test out the new fairings lighting system and the upgraded bulbs I put in - damn thing is brighter than my CRs!
Now that's some terrific ultra light weight bright lighting! EZ |
Ezblast
| Posted on Friday, July 01, 2011 - 12:47 am: |
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Assignment 4 - one to go! - lol The Apache Way I will not know you, see you, touch you You are her’s in blood , I am but the father I walk a contrary path, I am medicine to mine A stalker, I seek to heal, to make whole again Alone, my quest demands many guises used To hunt the parts of spirits not mine and return Always to return what is theirs to them Attention on one point, in worlds un-thought Guides offer wisdom, I know too too much Eagle feather touching, so high I fly, sun in eye Yet as Apache fathers before, my son I know not EZ |
Ezblast
| Posted on Friday, July 22, 2011 - 01:15 am: |
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The Final - lol Original: Old Friend The last bolt tightened, I wipe off some dirt with my shirt. I mumble to myself, “I don’t ride you enough, not at all.” Eleven years by my side, and today we shall night ride! My leathers creak as I pull them on, all in black, I’m back. Gloves pulled, helmet cinched, petcock turned, key as well. Every scratch I know, every fix I have done, a button pushed. She roars to life, her black soul purrs contentedly – an evil sound. Click, we are off, she glides smooth and sleek, totally unique. Sculpted by time, a mind, and evil intent – she flies easily. More elemental than machine, she dances each corner effortlessly. They said she would never dance, would never fly, could never be. They were wrong, she grew with me, we race the wind and play. Her lights bright, the test a success, my heart quiets with her song. I wonder how long she will live, even perfection does not last. Pulling in, a smile on my face, I mumble, “Damn, that was fun!” In that moment I am glad old friend, and you are beautiful. Motorcycles are made for the moment, in the end that’s all we have. EZ Revised: Old Friend The last bolt tightened, I wipe off some dirt with my shirt. I mumble to myself, “I don’t ride you enough, no - not at all.” Eleven years by my side, and today we shall night ride! My leathers creak as I pull them on, all in black, so worn. Gloves pulled, helmet cinched, petcock turned, key as well. Every scratch I know, every fix I’ve done, a button finally pushed. She roars to life, her black soul purrs contentedly – an eerie sound. Click, we are off, black, fast, smooth and sleek, so totally unique. Sculpted by time, a mind, parts, and my evil intent – she flies easily. More elemental than machine, she dances each corner effortlessly. They said she would never dance, would never fly, could never be. They were wrong; she grew with me, tonight the canyons rock. Her lights bright, the test a success, my heart soars with her song. I wonder how long she will live; even such perfection does not last. Pulling in, a smile on my face, I mumble, “Damn, that was fun!” In that moment I am glad old friend; and you are beautiful. Motorcycles are for the moment, in the end that’s all we have. EZ Original: A Picture Crackly, crispy yellows and oranges surround her Reaching tree limbs for falling golden treasures Wild fall breezes - stirring and cooling – abound A fluttering checkerboard anchored by bare knees Picnic basket - a treasure chest, un-sampled; A young girl, sitting, tasting more than food Nature’s scents make each sampling a new delight Book forgotten, seeing the clouds and sun overhead Caught by natures beauty – a glorious swirling palate Leaves alive fly around her straw bonnet, distressed Uncaring, a smile, a gentle soft happy line lost in time For she alone knows this now, this gift that is life. EZ Revised: A Picture Crackly, crispy yellows and oranges surround her Reaching tree limbs for falling golden treasures Wild fall breezes - stirring and cooling – abound A fluttering checkerboard anchored by bare knees Picnic basket - a treasure chest, un-sampled; A young girl, sitting, tasting more than food Nature’s scents make each sampling a new delight Book forgotten, seeing the clouds and sun overhead Caught by natures beauty – a glorious swirling palate Leaves alive fly around her straw bonnet, distressed Uncaring, a smile, a gentle soft happy line lost in time In this picture she alone knows this now, this gift. EZ Original: The Apache Way I will not know you, see you, touch you You are her’s in blood , I am but the father I walk a contrary path, I am medicine to mine A stalker, I seek to heal, to make whole again Alone, my quest demands many guises used To hunt the parts of spirits not mine and return Always to return what is theirs to them Attention on one point, in worlds un-thought Guides offer wisdom, I know too too much Eagle feather touching, so high I fly, sun in eye Yet as Apache fathers before, my son I know not EZ Revised: The Apache Way - Choice & Tradition I will not know you, see you, touch you - choice You are her’s in blood , I am but the father - tradition I walk a contrary path, I am medicine to mine - tradition A stalker, I seek to heal, to make whole again - tradition Alone, my quest demands many guises used - tradition To hunt the parts of spirits not mine and return - tradition Always to return that of their souls to them - tradition Attention on one point, in spirit worlds un-thought - tradition Guides offering wisdom, I know too too much - tradition Eagle feather touching, so high my spirit flies, sun in eye - tradition Yet as Apache fathers before, my son I know not - choice EZ Love His chin brushes her shoulder; nose scenting her hair, his lips whisper so softly – a dare. Sweetly she smiles, her arms echoing his embrace; in trance they quicken their pace. Rocking life’s cradle, they lose and find each other, each breath truly a last taste. She shudders, so spent, and sighs, his eye’s squeeze shut, his lips hurling a harsh cry. A hand on his shoulder pulls him aside, two rush forward, life’s champions denied. Wet cheeks, a bloody shirt, car and tree – hammer and anvil – lives not meant to be. He howls - pain’s animal, rain and flashing lights, too much, too lost, nothing is right. Rocking still, a metronome of grief, his knees touch ground, death a heartless thief. EZ Revised: In Love His chin brushes her shoulder; scenting her hair, his lips whisper softly a moan. Sweetly she smiles, arms echoing his embrace; as in trance they quicken their pace. Rocking like life’s cradle, tightly he holds her, sharing each breath - truly a last taste. She shudders, so spent, and sighs; his eye’s squeeze shut, his lips hurling a harsh cry. A hand on his shoulder pulls him aside – she falls, uniformed champions of life denied. Wet cheeks, a bloody shirt, broken car and tree – hammer and anvil – lives never to be. He howls - pain’s animal, rain and flashing lights, too much, too lost, nothing is right. Rocking still, a metronome of grief, his knees on cold ground, death a heartless thief. EZ The poetry got an A, my critiques of others poetry got a B - so the 4.0 got busted, though I got an A in Business - lol EZ |
Swampy
| Posted on Tuesday, July 26, 2011 - 07:44 pm: |
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"His chin brushes her shoulder; nose scenting her hair, his lips whisper so softly – a dare." EZ, you are giving away my secrets, I read that and though "OH, NO~!" I had to stand on my tip toes to kiss her on the back of the neck..... Not you Maggie....LOL |
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