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Still needs to be clean and of value to the club.
 
 
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  #1  
Old 16-Aug-2006, 15:47
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doogalman doogalman is offline
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Mood: No point in working long hours to die early
Mav, don't feel to down about change. We new blood are allways here for banter.

"I gave up on new poetry myself thirty years ago, when most of it began to read like coded messages passing between lonely aliens on a hostile world"
Russell Baker
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  #2  
Old 16-Aug-2006, 15:56
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Tonio600 Tonio600 is offline
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Quote:
Originally Posted by doogalman
Mav, don't feel to down about change. We new blood are allways here for banter.

I'm only 26 but sometimes I yet find it difficult to accept that I'm getting older and older and things do evolve all around me...

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  #3  
Old 16-Aug-2006, 17:53
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doogalman doogalman is offline
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Mood: No point in working long hours to die early
Did someone say evolution?

When you were a tadpole and I was a fish
In the Paleozoic time,
And side by side on the ebbing tide
We sprawled through the ooze and slime,
Or skittered with many a caudal flip
Through the depths of the Cambrian fen,
My heart was rife with the joy of life,
For I loved you even then.

Mindless we lived and mindless we loved
And mindless at last we died;
And deep in the rift of the Caradoc drift
We slumbered side by side.
The world turned on in the lathe of time,
The hot lands heaved amain,
Till we caught our breath from the womb of death
And crept into light again.

We were amphibians, scaled and tailed,
And drab as a dead man's hand;
We coiled at ease 'neath the dripping trees
Or trailed through the mud and sand.
Croaking and blind, with our three-clawed feet
Writing a language dumb,
With never a spark in the empty dark
To hint at a life to come.

Yet happy we lived and happy we loved,
And happy we died once more;
Our forms were rolled in the clinging mold
Of a Neocomian shore.
The eons came and the eons fled
And the sleep that wrapped us fast
Was riven away in a newer day
And the night of death was past.

Then light and swift through the jungle trees
We swung in our airy flights,
Or breathed in the balms of the fronded palms
In the hush of the moonless nights;
And, oh! what beautiful years were there
When our hearts clung each to each;
When life was filled and our senses thrilled
In the first faint dawn of speech.

Thus life by life and love by love
We passed through the cycles strange,
And breath by breath and death by death
We followed the chain of change.
Till there came a time in the law of life
When over the nursing side
The shadows broke and soul awoke
In a strange, dim dream of God.

I was thewed like an Auruch bull
And tusked like the great cave bear;
And you, my sweet, from head to feet
Were gowned in your glorious hair.
Deep in the gloom of a fireless cave,
When the night fell o'er the plain
And the moon hung red o'er the river bed
We mumbled the bones of the slain.

I flaked a flint to a cutting edge
And shaped it with brutish craft;
I broke a shank from the woodland lank
And fitted it, head and haft;
Then I hid me close to the reedy tarn,
Where the mammoth came to drink;
Through the brawn and bone I drove the stone
And slew him upon the brink.

Loud I howled through the moonlit wastes,
Loud answered our kith and kin;
From west and east to the crimson feast
The clan came tramping in.
O'er joint and gristle and padded hoof
We fought and clawed and tore,
And check by jowl with many a growl
We talked the marvel o'er.

I carved that fight on a reindeer bone
With rude and hairy hand;
I pictured his fall on the cavern wall
That men might understand.
For we lived by blood and the right of might
Ere human laws were drawn,
And the age of sin did not begin
Till our brutal tush were gone.

And that was a million years ago
In a time that no man knows;
Yet here tonight in the mellow light
We sit at Delmonico's.
Your eyes are deep as the Devon springs,
Your hair is dark as jet,
Your years are few, your life is new,
Your soul untried, and yet -

Our trail is on the Kimmeridge clay
And the scarp of the Purbeck flags;
We have left our bones in the Bagshot stones
And deep in the Coralline crags;
Our love is old, our lives are old,
And death shall come amain;
Should it come today, what man may say
We shall not live again?

God wrought our souls from the Tremadoc beds
And furnished them wings to fly;
We sowed our spawn in the world's dim dawn,
And I know that it shall not die,
Though cities have sprung above the graves
Where the crook-bone men make war
And the oxwain creaks o'er the buried caves
Where the mummied mammoths are.

Then as we linger at luncheon here
O'er many a dainty dish,
Let us drink anew to the time when you
Were a tadpole and I was a fish.
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  #4  
Old 16-Aug-2006, 18:04
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madmav madmav is offline
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Mood: Chilled
bleeeeedin hell !
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  #5  
Old 16-Aug-2006, 18:34
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DSC Member Jools Jools is offline
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Posts: 6,930
Join Date: Jul 2002
Mood: MT Meglomaniac
In days gone by, when bevels ruled
It all got out of hand
When no-one in the DOC
wanted Dukes with rubber bands

So two or three, formed the DSC,
as the bevels stood their last.
The rubber bands weren't so elegant
but, my God, they were fast!

More suited to a 'Sporting Club'
and thereby came the name
for a club that wanted lots of fun,
not rideouts that were tame.

They also wanted trackdays
and some had quite a pace
So, by and by, some bright spark said
"I know, we could race"

And so came Desmo Due,
the DSC's own series
and with that some competitive souls
had bucket loads of queries

But some of these folks got heated,
about grids and 20 lappers
and whether some folks had 750's
that they'd got from down the scrappers

So all in all it seemed to some
that the DSC web site
had just been taken over
by all this DD S h i t e

But never fear, the racings great
but that's not all there is
Cos every day you'll find some mates
who'll turn up for a whizz

These folks still ride their road bikes
at a gallop, not a canter
and stop at the pub for a pint and a fag
and a hefty slice of banter

So don't give up the web site
Cos we're all stil about
so if you're ever round near Bedfordshire
just give ol' Jools a shout


The Patent Jools Mood Meter -Today I am:


___________^
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  #6  
Old 16-Aug-2006, 19:22
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DSC Member MJS MJS is offline
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Big Twin
Bikes: None at the moment
 
Posts: 1,948
Join Date: Jul 2003
Mood: Feeling old...
Blimey - I come back from the pub and what do I find - the DSC's become a site for poets...
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  #7  
Old 16-Aug-2006, 20:51
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doogalman doogalman is offline
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Mood: No point in working long hours to die early
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ode
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