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A Bull For Me
I think, Sirs, and most inimitable Ladies
I think I prefer to look at a bull
The sketch of a bull, the head of a bull perhaps
even if but a study by an artist
rather than some fancy prophet in glorious paint
or in grand chapel or some miracle recounted
in paint and colors and with consummate skill
or even God descending
ah, all these do not take my fancy
they smack too much of the Elevated;
there’s too much
of the grandstanding in these
Grand Divine Themes
but the face of a bull, ah give me a sketch
of the face of a bull
just the bull, all marks of nature in it
and just itself
no symbolism, no conceit, no artifice
no High sounding theology, no Revelation
but just animal nature in its nudity
being a bull
just animal, its eyes and mouth and horns
just all coming together to form one creature
a portrait of a bull anytime for me
Sirs and most inimitable Ladies
none of the Holy Ones and the Great Prophets
and the Mighty and the Divine
and the Grand-Looking:
no bull for me, please;
just the plain head of a bull, as it is
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Men, it has been well said, think in herds; it will be seen that they go mad in herds, while they only recover their senses slowly, and one by one.
quote by Charles Mackay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Serranilla
FROM Calatrava as I took my way
At holy Mary's shrine to kneel and pray,
And sleep upon my eyelids heavy lay,
There where the ground was very rough and wild,
I lost my path and met a peasant child:
From Finojosa, with the herds around her,
There in the fields I found her.
Upon a meadow green with tender grass,
With other rustic cowherds, lad and lass,
So sweet a thing to see I watched her pass:
My eyes could scarce believe her what they found her,
There with the herds around her.
I do not think that roses in the Spring
Are half so lovely in their fashioning:
My heart must needs avow this secret thing,
That had I known her first as then I found her,
From Finojosa, with the herds around her,
I had not strayed so far her face to see
That it might rob me of my liberty.
I questioned her, to know what she might say:
'Has she of Finojosa passed this way? '
She smiled and answered me: 'In vain you sue,
Full well my heart discerns the hope in you:
But she of whom you speak, and have not found her.
Her heart is free, no thought of love has bound her,
Here with the herds around her.'
poem by Íñigo López de Mendoza
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The Crazy Bull
Look out, here comes a crazy bull
He is crazy
Hide behind the fence, my love
He is coming fast
Just toss me your jacket
And I will fight him for you
Toro, Toro, Toro
Enter the arena
everyone
Is watching me now
Toro, Toro, Toro
Crazy bull
Little by little
I am taming you
They are going to open up the gates
To his pen
So this beaten bull can leave
Now he returns back home
Looking like a lamb
Toro, Toro, Toro
poem by Mercedes Zoller
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Being a Tiger, Being a Bull
I was born in 1962, the year of the tiger
In the chinese astrological callendar
but in the Zodiac wheel of time
I'm a Taurus, a bull by design
A man with a purpose, by his own admission
hard, yet soft, but never a remission
I'm understanding, romantic, peaceful at heart
sometimes hard deaded, that's the Bull from the start
But I'm happy for who I am
a very possitive and gentle man
and trust me, it's not so cruel
when at times I'm a Tiger, and others a Bull.
(Charlie Vergara/06.11.2009/1395)
poem by White Tiger
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He that does not fear a bull must be a bull himself.
By the horn
Heightened excitement and a little fear
The matador faces a bull, with a crowd behind him it lessens his care
Frustrated, harnessed to entertain
Frantic charging with poor aim
Targeting this red rag, the bull has missed
While the matador plays to the crowd and blows a kiss
A stroke of luck, our bull has made contact
While the matador feels sheepish, the crowd witnessed the fact
Carried by his breeches he's tossed up high
Oohs, aahs, the crowd sees his breeches torn
He attempts to cover his modesty as they are exposed by a horn
Heartened, our bull charges again and delivers a better aim
Escape is on hand as the matador takes flight and is tossed into the stand.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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Bull
Searched out and find the bull.
Bull kidnapped.
No clues found
About kidnapped.
Euphoria and
Disappointment continues.
Search out seach out.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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There was a Young Lady of Hull,
Who was chased by a virulent bull;
But she seized on a spade,
And called out, 'Who's afraid?'
Which distracted that virulent bull.
quote by by Edward Lear
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I think we're in the beginning of a bull market. When a bull market begins, nine months later the economy turns around.
quote by Sumner Redstone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bullfighter Was A Lady
(words & music by sid tepper - roy c. bennett)
Pedro the bull was a killer
King of the bullfighter ringer
Hed wipe up the floor with each brave matador
And have matador stew for his dinner
He heard the crowd shouting ol
But he met his master that day
The bullfighter was a lady
And it was true love at first sight
Her red cape was waving but pedro was shaking (or shaving? )
He wanted to date her that night
Ol
Pedro the bull he was smitten
First time the love bug had bitten
He once was a mad bull, a wild and a bad bull
But now he was mild as a kitten
The people were starting to hiss
But pedro just wanted to kiss
The bullfighter was a lady
And pedro he liked what he saw
He floated on air with a rose in his hair
As he waltzed with that sweet matador
His fate was a bad one, his tale is a sad one
Its hanging right over her door
Ol!
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grass and trees
A bull went to a meadow to graze.
While grazing he found trees of love.
The bull took the site for shade,
Ignoring the grass fading under the shade..
06.11.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Great Herds
there were great herds
of buffalo then...
racing wildly across
the plains,
bodies painted,
ponies nostrils flared,
bow and arrow ready...
to the victor
the spoils...
a prayer of gratitude
to the spirit
of the beast....
meat for the long winter...
maybe even a taste
of raw liver...
there were great herds
of buffalo then...
when the people
of the earth
were free!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The whole arena tells them to kill the bull, yet the bull should kill no one.
The Bulldozer
Bull by day
And dozes by night.
Would that the bulldozer
Dozed all the time
Would that the bulldozer
Would rust in peace.
His watchword
Let not a witch live
His battle cry
Better dead than red.
Give me if you must
The bull himself
But not the bulldozer
No, not the bulldozer.
poem by Robert Francis
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Lyric four bulls
Woman walked in forest alone
Met man
Man aroused appetite for her
Man ran and knocked his head on tree
Tail grew out
Hairy jaw grew in mouth
Hind legs grew
Man metamorphosed because was
Lion cannibal
Tried to attack man
Woman asked cannibal
‘’where’re your four
red and white bulls’’
‘’Do you know them’’
‘’Yes, you sing their
Oldest lyric’’
Cannibal laughed
In hoarse voice
Sang,
‘’One red and white spotted bull is sold
One red and white bull spotted is stolen
One red and white spotted bull is swallowed
One red and white spotted bull is scattered
On earth, scattered on earth, on earth, on earth……………….., cannibal sang tune of ‘’scattered on earth’’ happily for long and until
He napped and woman disappeared.
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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El Toro
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
Theres a legend of a famous matador
Who went to meet el toro
Though he fought as he had never done before
He could not beat, el toro
The bull el toro, brought him defeat and pain
And to his sorrow, the matador knew shame
They said time would never heal the many scars
Brought by the great, el toro
And the bitterness that burned deep in his heart
Caused him to hate, el toro
The bull el toro, brought him defeat and pain
And to his sorrow, the matador knew shame
So one night, when no-one was on sight
The matador, went to finish the score
In the lonely fields, beneath the pale moonlight
He fought the bull...and they fought once more
When they found the matador and saw him dying
Hed never see tomorrow
Now they say that on the spot where he was lying
Still walks the proud el toro
The bull el toro, brought him defeat and pain
And to his sorrow, the matador knew shame....
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Bulls-Hit
Pink rain fell on the matador's hat
As the bull she'd slain lay beneath her feet
Its mouth a gap its nostrils still flared
And its life and tearblood rushed from his splayed chest
No tears or words were used as slowly her blade was drawn from flesh
And when the spray of rain did cleanse the blood
The blade gleamed like cupid's cursed arrows
And the edges seemed sharper than its irony
She stood there with the bull's scarred heart lying out an offering
And slowly she turned claiming his death for her game
She is a matador and evasion is her game
The nearer came the bull the better fun for her
Till finally straight on he near caught her
Now he lays dead.
poem by Evan Histed
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Love And Live To Win
1.
Love is not bull-fight
to tame the bull or be gored.
A love buff's great fall.
2.
Is our married life
a gladiatorial combat.
Both of us should win.
3.
He craves for her glimpse.
But she gives iPad and pen.
Will her heart unlock?
4.
Eyes see all pirates;
the waves of youth buffet her.
But her heart decides.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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A Parable
a frog, always the frog
has always been a frog
servant to the fog, but
one frog one day decides
to be a bull to the dismay
of the frogs in that little pond
to the ridicule of the bulls
nearby but the frog learns
to be a bull and bully has
he become until one day
he gains the respect of the
other bulls to the pleasure
of the sun to the disdain
of the fog on the hills
nothing is impossible
to the power of the mind
this the frog follows
through and through
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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