Related quotes
Unassailable Fidelity!
The horse never slept
Nor it lay on ground
His mind was battling
With the songs of swords
The challenges of the riders
The splash of blood
The pool of blood
The horse kicked
The horse of the enemy
Eager to cut the throat
Of his master on him
The horse trampled on
The dead on the battlefield
To take his master to safety
When the hissing sound of sword
Lashed at him like a storm.
The horse learnt the rule
The rule of sword
The rule of battlefield
The justice of killing
And the destiny of killed!
His master on him swing
With the sword socked with blood
Of the enemy cavalry
And enemy animal carriers
And moved fast to fix
The mast and flag
At the fort his master seized.
As the thunder and lightening
Deafened and blinded
The horse lost a leg
And the master had the wound
Gushing blood with all force
The horse leapt as a wind
And crossed the river
And fell on the river bed
And his master took his head
To put on his lap
To see the flash of life
Taking wings through eyes!
The horse had the satiety
Of saving his master
And serving him to keep alive!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Him My Wild Horse...I, the Chosen to Fly on HIS RIDE!
Eye Drop his translated name
In Portuguese just 'Pingo'
My Dearest Horse for so many rides we joined
Him, my brother, his horse and I
“Pingo” supposedly
'The Little Daddy's Boy's Horse'
But my brother he would drop
And scared the little boy was,
forever no horses he would ride...
Of “Pingo” he was afraid.
None’s to be on fault
The horse’s translated name was “Drop”
But truly just meant to join for a Gallop
'The Little Daddy's Boy afraid...
My Dad mad...No fun for me
YES! Let’s Swap!
There it was, all resolved.
'Pingo' forever now My Wild Horse
My brother and I on a run
My Dad Happy laud and proud
'Go Little Son', and all happy we were
Pingo and I, my brother and his friendly new horse
Following the horse tracks
Wild and Free, there we were
For our remarkable back horse rides
So what about the “Drop”?
Pingo and I jointly on flight no time to play
Any other act, Let’s Run My Wild Horse!
poem by Florida Angel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Long, Tall Texan
One, two, three, four
Giddy up
Giddy up
Well Im a long tall texan
I ride a big white horse
(he rides from texas on a big white horse)
Well Im a long tall texan
I ride a big white horse
(he rides from texas on a big white horse)
Well people look at me and say
Hurrah hurrah is that your horse?
(he rides from texas on a big white horse)
Yeah
Well Im a long tall texan
I wear a ten gallon hat
(he rides from texas with a ten gallon hat)
Well Im a long tall texan
I wear a ten gallon hat
(he rides from texas with a ten gallon hat)
Well people look at me and say
Hurrah hurrah is that your hat?
(he rides from texas with a ten gallon hat)
Yeah
Well I was walkin down the street
With my shinin badge
My spurs jinglin down at my feet
I seen a man a comin
Comin with a gun
And I just cant be beat
Well Im a long tall texan
I enforce justice for the law
(he rides from texas to enforce the law)
Well Im a long tall texan
I enforce justice for the law
(he rides from texas to enforce the law)
Well people look at me and say
Hurrah hurrah are you the law?
(he rides from texas to enforce the law)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lonesome Poke Town
As the train was approaching a small town out West
The passenger looked out of the window and saw the most
beautiful horse in the world
The train was not scheduled to stop there
But, Jack, the passenger pulled the stop cord
Jack went into the train station He asked the station master about the
horse
He asked the station master about the horse
It so happened that he owned the horse
Jack asked if he could buy the horse
The station master said, 'Yes'
Jack paid the master $25.00
And the most beautiful horse was his now
And he named him 'Irish'
August 14,2006, Clarence A. Graham, Jr.
poem by Jr. Clarence A. Graham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dark Road Ahead
The dark road ahead goes
On and On
Till I can stand no more
I sit down by an oak
And start to drift away
Into the distance I can see
A looming figure staring at me
On a horse it rides
On the on going road
He rides on the wind and the owl
Hoots he's coming home
The figure on the horse sits straight
And has a silhouette of black
As I drift to sleep I can't help but
Remember the figure from a dream
As it approaches I fall
Asleep
But for many days to come
In my dreams it'll stay
poem by Taylor Scherer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lovely To His Eyes (Hybridanelle)
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
in the distance there’s ploughing red Massy Ferguson tractor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain
His son is out there tracking the field
seems young, vital and strong
and it’s as if he has now got to yield
and the earth is soft underfoot after the rain.
and he’s still the administrator.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
and he still has some power to wield
and his eyes measure the ploughed field, the smell of fresh earth,
seems young, vital and strong
and he wonders how many years still remain
but the ache reminds him of the words of the doctor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain
that surrounds him, almost like a token of new birth
and the ardent Arabic horse knows its master well
and his eyes measure the ploughed field, the smell of fresh earth
and stretched out lies the farm that he has to maintain
and on the house’s thatched roof gleams the lightening conductor.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
and he horse acts with love, as if under his spell
and life is really great under the sun, wind and sky
and the ardent Arabic horse knows its master well
and from riding horses he have got to abstain,
but he keeps his face pleasant like that of an actor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain
everything is familiar like any other day, where he is saddled high
and he feels full of spirit
and life is really great under the sun, wind and sky
the farm stretches out lovely to his eyes without a stain
and he rides to the chicken coop and the incubator.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
and he bridles the horse and there is pain
and probably soon his only child will inherit.
His son is out there tracking the field
and he feels full of spirit
and it’s as if he has now got to yield.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What is a Horse?
What is a horse?
A horse has eyes as dainty as a mink.
The grace is interrupted merely by a blink.
A horse is beauty.
What is a horse?
A horse is a tree in a storm that never goes down.
A horse is a weathered rock that stays around.
A horse is ancient.
What is a horse?
A horse waltzes like breeze over rivers.
She curvets and leaps like rain shivers.
A horse is a marionette.
What is a horse?
A horse is determination, that never stops flowing.
A horse is fondness, that never stops growing.
A horse is poetic power.
poem by Lily Whittaker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
He Is Worthy
From this time forth and forevermore
Our Lord is worthy of all praise
Blessed be the name of Christ our King
Into His holiness we all shall gaze
From the rising of the sun to its going down
His name shall be praised forever
His glory is high above the heavens
And His praise shall not end, no never
Who is like unto the Lord our God
He is glorious in majesty
He shall come victoriously in the sky above
And surely every eye shall see
That He rides upon a horse with a crown on His head
And a two-edged sword in His hand
He rides victoriously, this Lion of Judah
He rides all across the land.
poem by Frank McEleny
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 113
From this time forth and forevermore
Our Lord is worthy of all praise
Blessed be the name of Christ our King
Into His holiness we all shall gaze
From the rising of the sun to its going down
His name shall be praised forever
His glory is high above the heavens
And His praise shall not end, no never
Who is like unto the Lord our God
He is glorious in majesty
He shall come victoriously in the sky above
And surely every eye shall see
That He rides upon a horse with a crown on His head
And a two-edged sword in His hand
He rides victoriously, this Lion of Judah
He rides all across the land.
poem by Frank McEleny
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Beauty Of A Friend
Walking on the tiny tan rocks of the sand. Looking for my brown soft horse. Running to my brown soft horse. Leaping on the back of the brown horse. Holding tight while my horse rides. Throwed the tan sand. The ocean breeze flows through my redish brownish hair. Comming closer to the forrest. I leaped off my horse. Walking close to my horse. While we enter the forrest. Moving my hand out touching the rough brown branches of the trees. Walking around the forrest. Getting losted. I'm alone sitting on the dirt. Tears falling from my face.
poem by Christina Weinke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet: Piggy-back Ride
Yes, children enjoy a piggy-back ride!
The father as horse and mother beside;
The thrilled little ones just simply enjoy,
And mock at the horse while laughing with joy.
Giddap! Giddap! They goad the horse faster;
Today, they are the jockey and the master!
And then the horse must dance well to their tune,
Slowly, gracefully and speed up too, soon.
Sometimes, the horse is just compelled to neigh!
Shaking its head for the entire day;
No doubt, the act gets troublesome indeed;
Until taken to the ‘stable’ to feed.
At times, children can the wildest horse tame!
But, condescension’s, the key to the game.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Horse And Me
I LOVE MY HORSE AND I'LL TELL YOU WHY
HE'S THE BEST HORSE AROUND AND THAT IS NO LIE
HE'S TOUGH AND SMART AND ALWAYS DOES THE RIGHT THING
WHATEVER I ASK AND RIDES LIKE A DREAM
HE'S NOT THE BIGGEST HORSE IN THE BARN
HE'S KIND OF LAID BACK, LIKE HE DOESN'T GIVE A DARN
HE'S PRETTY, NO DOUBT, BUT THAT ISN'T WHAT SHOWS
IT'S HIS HEART THAT'S SO BIG, THAT IT OVERFLOWS
I KNOW WHAT HE'S THINKING THOUGH HE CAN'T SAY THE WORDS
HE'S LISTENED TO ME WHEN I NEEDED TO BE HEARD
HE'S AS LOYAL A FRIEND AS I'VE EVER HAD
ALWAYS HAPPY TO SEE ME AND NEVER MAKES ME FEEL BAD
HE TRUSTS ME WITH HIS LIFE, AND I TRUST HIM WITH MINE
IT'S A BOND THAT'S NEVER BROKEN, AND GET'S STRONGER WITH TIME
WHEN WE'RE ON THE TRAIL, THERE'S NO BETTER PLACE TO BE
THAN ENJOYING THE WOODS, JUST MY HORSE AND ME
poem by Kathleen West
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wind Horse
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, gentle Wind horse, you were the last of your kind.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you were running wild and free.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, with this freedom you did nothing but give;
When one called for help you carried them to safety,
No enemy did you have.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave your life one day
To a boy with no leg.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave him your endless love.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you now run in the Great Hunting Grounds;
Giving joy to those there, as you did here.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, your life was not the last gift
You gave the People.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you prayed for us, you wished a wish for us.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we remember you through your brother Horse.
Wi: yo: h … It is good.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we see you still.
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Horse Is A Horse
A horse is a horse and a man is a man
And neither can be the other
And each can survive but is much better
In the company of one another.
And while a horse is a horse and that is true
A horse is but a beast
As a cow is a cow, some ask how
On its flesh we should not feast?
For they do so in France as in other places
And I don't know how they can
For while a horse is a horse and is only a horse
It is less a cow than it is a man!
poem by Tomás Ó Cárthaigh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Puppeteer
Oh master puppeteer
What is it this time.
What's on the agenda today.
Into the fray.
With no delay
Pulling strings that cause so much dismay.
It is still the cost is on our shoulders.
Leader of nothing.
With words of speeches that have no meaning.
They fell for it hook line and sinker.
Now it is time to pull off the shroud.
Show them the monster I really am.
Satan aint got sh! * on him.
Oh master puppeteer
What is it this time.
What's on the agenda today.
Into the fray.
With no delay
Pulling strings that cause so much dismay.
They say we love him.
But it was his false claims and ideas.
Given up as soon as he got in.
A solution to a problem we created.
How come now we feel so jaded.
We were once again manipulated.
Oh master puppeteer
What is it this time.
What's on the agenda today.
Into the fray.
With no delay
Pulling strings that cause so much dismay.
Promise broken, dreams stolen.
All by this man who rides in on a white horse.
He looks promising lets keep him for another term.
Oh where do we sign.
He says there on the dotted lines.
He claims he's the ender of all suffering.
And I say I haven't seen this yet.
I feel so abandon by this master.
Oh master puppeteer
What is it this time.
What's on the agenda today.
Into the fray.
With no delay
Pulling strings that cause so much dismay.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Genius Of Being A Dumb Animal (like a horse for instance)
The precocious interrupted patterns
of his thick tongued speech
are a direct result of the broken dialects
he had been learned at home.(the master not the horse)
His loving mother and laboring father,
both of whom were legal immigrants,
had walked out of eastern Europe,
and yet only briefly had stepped outside
of their existentialist dreams,
when they conceived the likes of him.
'Son, we want you to hurt like we do.'
they both would radically repeat
to their impressionable boy.....over and over,
as they washed behind his balls and ears.
And so it was that at a very young age
these austere expressions would become
very systematic in his writings.
Poetry became his enemy and his best friend.
Throwing himself into books full
of someone else's distorted
thoughts and equations,
he promised himself that one day soon
he would save the world. (from itself)
Even if it resisted such help, he thought
he would never see it his parent's way.
In a time when most boys
still played with all their marbles
he kept his glass eyes in a tin,
which also doubled as his head.
Thereby,
an early indicator
of the duplicitous manner,
in which he intended to prove
to the myopic world
that he was smarter than one might think
Hence.....*this is where the horse comes in...*
The man bought a horse to help
him in the cluttered junk business
he had built from the ground up
The horse just as all else in the man's life
was always placed before the cart
and the cart was routinely overfilled,
while still bridled to the hard working horse.
The horse, after all was said and done
remained completely convinced
despite his Master's verbose claims,
that there was no possible reason,
or need to reinvent a better wheel
for his overloaded cart
as was suggested by the horse
when the horse had on one day developed
a noticeable shortness in his gate
Alas.....poor......horse
All the genius which the horse displayed
in both compensating for his limp despite the load.....
still completing his daily grind without complaint
would prove to count for nothing
when he broke his leg tripping over his master
in the stampede to get the 'Hell out of Dodge'____
and his master's utopia......
poem by Ted Sheridan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Upon The Horse and His Rider
There's one rides very sagely on the road,
Showing that he affects the gravest mode.
Another rides tantivy, or full trot,
To show much gravity he matters not.
Lo, here comes one amain, he rides full speed,
Hedge, ditch, nor miry bog, he doth not heed.
One claws it up-hill without stop or check,
Another down as if he'd break his neck.
Now every horse has his especial guider;
Then by his going you may know the rider.
Comparison.
Now let us turn our horse into a man,
His rider to a spirit, if we can.
Then let us, by the methods of the guider,
Tell every horse how he should know his rider.
Some go, as men, direct in a right way,
Nor are they suffered to go astray;
As with a bridle they are governed,
And kept from paths which lead unto the dead.
Now this good man has his especial guider,
Then by his going let him know his rider.
Some go as if they did not greatly care,
Whether of heaven or hell they should be heir.
The rein, it seems, is laid upon their neck,
They seem to go their way without a check.
Now this man too has his especial guider,
And by his going he may know his rider.
Some again run as if resolved to die,
Body and soul, to all eternity.
Good counsel they by no means can abide;
They'll have their course whatever them betide.
Now these poor men have their especial guider,
Were they not fools they soon might know their rider.
There's one makes head against all godliness,
Those too, that do profess it, he'll distress;
He'll taunt and flout if goodness doth appear,
And at its countenancers mock and jeer.
Now this man, too, has his especial guider,
And by his going he might know his rider.
poem by John Bunyan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lord of the Flies
Oh Master my Master
Oh where have you been
I wallowed in filth and
I drowned in sin
Oh Master my Master
It's my rotten luck
To swim in the decay
And swallow the muck
Oh Master my Master
I stand in the fires
Surrounded by murderers
Thieves, cheaters, and liars
Oh Master my Master
the earth has turned red
Fluid with blood
Of the recently dead
Oh Master my Master
What's wrong with the world
The blackness unfolds
Like a flag that's unfurled
Oh Master my Master
You ignore my cries
And now I'm quite sure
You're the Lord of the Flies
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Youth and Age
Youth that rides the wildest horse,
Youth that throws the deadliest steer,
Spending strength without remorse,
Grappling with the ghosts of fear,
Knows it only holds to-day
All it freely flings away.
Youth that rides a race with Death
When the frightened cattle break,
Living in the moment’s breath,
Risking all for honour’s sake,
Lightly knows it holds in fee
Life and immortality.
Age that rides the spavined grey,
Age that seeks the safest track,
Scenting perils by the way,
Dreaming of the journey back,
Leaves behind it all the truth
Known to the wild heart of youth.
poem by Vance Palmer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Black Horse Rider
For George Anthell
Between them is the land of broken colors,
the land that makes a mock of him
with miles.
He rides, he rides,
he passes through the flat
chrome wheatfields
cut by the plough of the river makers.
The hills are aslant,
the clay torsos, the hills,
the clay has a red wound,
it gapes.
The white roots cry,
there is a mute susurrus in the dark:
poppies, poppies are you not
their pain?
With hoof on flint and flint
the black horse
rides: black wind, black
against fire.
The black horse crooks his
forelegs, the hills split open,
his nostrils pour flame.
Snort, snort through miles,
O charger, through rock.
He drinks the mezas,
he burns his thin knees over
braziers of grass:
Ride, ride.
Sky is spilt water,
a silver hello is flung
from star to star.
Black horse breaks
fire underfoot and now
his mane is a burnt city,
his mouth churned ocean,
foam on his belly a constellation.
At last he tramples
the sand
behemoth
Asleep before the sea.
poem by Pierre Loving
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!