Me and my bike! Any other girls here that can post pics of you and your GS500?

[Chanse]

Yeay Im glad for yas...... So how about it? wheres the poems?

[PaviSays]

Woo, my jacket came today!  Now me and Mary are twins!  GS-Twins! bahaha oh the puns...

[yamahonkawazuki]

marys is due to arrive today as well

[cafeboy]

marys is due to arrive today as well

[Toogoofy317]

ARGH! SENT BY UPS I hate them! Well, of course they don't deliever until late! The note was out on the side walk about fifty feet from my house barely held together because of the rain. Says they will be by after 1700 I have a Dr. appointment at 1600 so I'm sure it will be delivered before 1700 just to piss me off! Some times I think he does it just to piss people off!

I really am excited and can't wait. What's it like Pavi? No pics just details so I can relish until 1700 tomorrow!

Mary

[yamahonkawazuki]

Alright hun, what is your shipping preference? cause there will be at least two more things coming, one more from your friends here, as well as at least one from me, if i can stand in the morning , ill try and get your package put together 9/10 ( pain ).constant. spike at 9.5 but woo-hoo i got in to doc my appointment is on 9/14/09 nothign nowhere any sooner. lol mary hun HOW in gods name do you deal with this constantly? i need to learn cause ive got until the 14th of sept. nehow. when you get it the postwhore concil here at gstwin demands a modeling pic. maybe on bike? 

[Toogoofy317]

I prefer USPS because we have big boxes at the complex that they lock your stuff in and put the key in your locked mailbox. Is the safest way to go!

Yes I will do a modeling pic on Flick when I get said Item!

Mary

[Toogoofy317]

Alright I guess I will post up the one in question:

Plant Your Seed

Plant your seed.
Only God knows what occurred.
Do it in His name to feed,
Souls craving the Word.

Sometimes you will see what you have sown.
Most of the time you will not.
But if it is good seed it will have grown.
And His name will not be forgot.

It will be revered for a debt has been paid.
One we could never pay in this life.
His blood washed our sins and we were made
We were made a child of God, through Jesus strife.

By planting His seed.
We may save one lost soul.
And if we all fill that one need.
We will fill an immense hole.

That God feels, when on of his flock has gone astray.
How He must feel when one comes back.
Comes back to the Father and says he was awry.
That he asks for respite from the attack.

That he wants to walk in Jesus Footsteps.
Wants to plant your seed.
And testify to other souls about that first step.
That fulfilled our every need

Mary

[JB848]

Oh Dear God please no more poetry PLEASE! This is a motorcycle forum for Gods sake!

Robert

[Roadstergal]

My favorite bible verse is Ezekiel 23:20.

I do love poetry.  I had my sister read Billy Collins's Thesaurus at my wedding.

I like to send The Revenant to people who are sure they know what their dog is thinking.  

I am the dog you put to sleep,
as you like to call the needle of oblivion,
come back to tell you this simple thing:
I never liked you--not one bit.

When I licked your face,
I thought of biting off your nose.
When I watched you toweling yourself dry,
I wanted to leap and unman you with a snap.

I resented the way you moved,
your lack of animal grace,
the way you would sit in a chair to eat,
a napkin on your lap, knife in your hand.

I would have run away,
but I was too weak, a trick you taught me
while I was learning to sit and heel,
and--greatest of insults--shake hands without a hand.

I admit the sight of the leash
would excite me
but only because it meant I was about
to smell things you had never touched.

You do not want to believe this,
but I have no reason to lie.
I hated the car, the rubber toys,
disliked your friends and, worse, your relatives.

The jingling of my tags drove me mad.
You always scratched me in the wrong place.
All I ever wanted from you
was food and fresh water in my metal bowls.

While you slept, I watched you breathe
as the moon rose in the sky.
It took all of my strength
not to raise my head and howl.

Now I am free of the collar,
the yellow raincoat, monogrammed sweater,
the absurdity of your lawn,
and that is all you need to know about this place

except what you already supposed
and are glad it did not happen sooner--

that everyone here can read and write,
the dogs, in poetry - the cats and the others, in prose.

[JB848]

OK can't beat um' join um'

My Favorite by Theadore Roosevelt:

It is not the critic who counts;
not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles,
or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,
whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;
who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again,
because there is no effort without error and shortcoming;
but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms,
the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause;
who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement,
and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly,
so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

Robert

[Roadstergal]

My two favorite poets are Billy Collins and T.S. Eliot, and I don't know if two poets could be less alike...  Collins, though, has a way of addressing every facet of existence in a way that is perfectly understandable and identifiable.  IMO.


"Love"

The boy at the far end of the train car kept looking behind him
as if he were afraid or expecting someone

and then she appeared in the glass door of the forward car and he rose
and opened the door and let her in

and she entered the car carrying a large black case
in the unmistakable shape of a cello.

She looked like an angel with a high forehead and somber eyes and her hair
was tied up behind her neck with a black bow.

And because of all that, he seemed a little awkward in his happiness to see her,
whereas she was simply there, perfectly existing as a creature with a soft face who played the cello.

And the reason I am writing this on the back of a manila envelope
now that they have left the train together
is to tell you that when she turned to lift the large, delicate cello
onto the overhead rack,

I saw him looking up at her and what she was doing
the way the eyes of saints are painted
when they are looking up at God when he is doing something remarkable,
something that identifies him as God.


"The Wires of the Night"

I thought about his death for so many hours,
tangled there in the wires of the night,
that it came to have a body and dimensions,
more than a voice shaking over the telephone
or the black obituary boldface of name and dates.

His death now had an entrance and an exit,
   doors and stairs,
windows and shutters which are the motionless wings
of windows. His death had a head and clothes,
the white shirt and baggy trousers of death.

His death had pages, a dark leather cover, an index,
and the print was too minuscule for anyone to read.
His death had hinges and bolts that were oiled
   and locked,
had a loud motor, four tires, an antenna that listened
to the wind, and a mirror in which you could see the past.

His death had sockets and keys, it had walls and beams.
It had a handle which you could not hold and a floor
you could not lie down on in the middle of the night.

In the freakish pink and gray of dawn I took
his death to bed with me and his death was my bed
and in every corner of the room it hid from the light,

and then it was the light of day and the next day
and all the days to follow, and it moved into the future
like the sharp tip of a pen moving across an empty page.


"Oh My God"

Not only in church and nightly by their bedsides do young girls pray these days.
Wherever they go, prayer is woven into their talk, like a bright thread of awe.
Even in the pedestrian mall, outbursts of praise spring unbidden from their glossy lips.

[XealotX]

Please, no more poems
"Readers Digest" this is not
Back to the girl pics

[Toogoofy317]

I only did it because I was asked. But rest assured it will be the last!

Mary

[cafeboy]

Don't let the boneheads bother you Mary.
You can post what ever you want too.

[bikegirl88]

Wow this post has a life of its own!

So here is a poem!

Dear Lord,
A word, if I may
I suppose one could say
This constitutes
An attempt to pray
Neither selfishness nor greed
Rather, a heartfelt need
For Asphalt Angels
To intercede

Please Lord,
Protect us from cagers
Fumbling for pagers
Driving with pets on their lap
Cell phones in hand
Please understand
I'm tired of dealing with this crap

Oh Lord,
Help me to see
Mercifully
Keep, 'Thou Shalt Not Kill'
An option for me
I shall abide
If you will provide
Asphalt Angels
On every ride

Amen

by - Laurence P.Scerri

And here is another pic of me taken the same time as the previous ones (not much in my photobucket so this is the best I can offer for a girl pic!).  No bike in this one.

[yamahonkawazuki]

WOW, i like that (poem)

[jserio]

  

[JB848]

It's all Mary's fault!

There once was a man from Nantucket oh wait ah Hem.

Roses are red

violets are blue

I hate peoms

And so do you!

Yeah back to the Girls 

Bikegirl88 at least puts up pictures Mary 

[yamahonkawazuki]

  this IS the ODSS AND ENDS SECTION