It is difficult to tie an unborn horse to the manger.
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The horse must go to the manger, and not the manger to the horse.
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

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In war it is best to tie your horse to a strange manger.
Time is not tied to a post, like a horse to the manger.
The horse is Turkmen, it eats from both the nose-bag and the manger.
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

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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

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What's so difficult...
What's so difficult,
About the word,
No.
What's so difficult,
About our,
Relationship.
What's so difficult,
About,
Us.
What's so difficult,
About the words,
Stay away.
What's so difficult,
About,
Don't talk to me.
What's so difficult...
poem by Dragon Crenshaw

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Me & My Horse
riding together,
you and your horse.
as you run against the wind all you call hear is-
the wind wipping your ears,
the horse's hooves thundering beneath you,
the chains of your bit as the horse pulls against the reins,
and the faint sound of the horse behind you.
your horse stops,
the horse behind you catches up.
the race is over,
freedom will have to wait until next time.
poem by Horse Lover

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A Horse For Dinner
A horse A horse
My kingdom for a horse,
A horse A horse
For the main course
Muscles of might
Pulled so tight,
A body of organs
All for a meal
Why a horse?
Why not a deer?
A horse does the work,
A deer will just peer
A horse is strong
a deer has no uses,
so there for a deer
suffers the abuses
Condemned is a deer
as from the day it's born,
until the day it dies
and its meaty flesh torn
So why a horse
if a deer has no uses?
because I am a man
Who too, has suffered too many abuses
poem by John McAdam

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Unborn Son
Flickered souls and eyes are gazing
Peering at the unborn son, behold
The things that demote a man
To begging with his knees upon the floor:
The beauty of nature walked to graze
As though the trees reach down to touch
The rays of sun that spreads the horizon
Like open arms to his unborn son;
A fire burning remiss amongst the whole
And shards fall out of the sky like bombs,
To hear the horrified warmth within
Like the unheard cry of his unborn son;
A perfect sunset bled to sleep,
The sandman pours his livestock onto heads
That need the hope and prayers of slumber
Like closing the eyes of his unborn son;
A speed of blasts and colors,
Engines roar still from the haunting motion
To have caused the crash to kill them both
Like the feeling he gets from his unborn son.
poem by Christopher's Dead

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Massacre Of The Unborn
No survive
Unborn child
Cut to pieces
Left without a name
Unwanted because of the problems of humanity
Unspeakable crime
Silent war is the name of the game
Millions are dying in actions of death and pain
Misguided mothers make this happen
Sometimes for a financial situation
Or a sexual mistake
[Chorus:]
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn child
Innocent blood cries in vain
Defenseless lives are slaughtered everyday
They should make a law against this insanity
Unborn corpses are growing in extreme quantity
Premature stage
Slowly destroyed by the human race
[Lead]
Tortured by tyrants
Unjustly demise
Infant children are left to die
Just innocent lives they slay
There is no chance to escape
Murdering is the matter of this case
A merciless torture to take
No one will live, because they won't survive
There's infant dying
Can't you see
That they will not have a chance
Of growing up in this life
[Lead]
[Chorus:]
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn child
song performed by by Incubus

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Easy and Difficult
Easy and Difficult
Easy to get a place in someone’s address book
Difficult is to get a place in someone’s heart
Easy is to judge the mistakes of others
Difficult is to recognize our own mistakes
Easy is to talk without thinking
Difficult is to control the tongue
Easy is to hurt someone who loves us
Difficult is to heal the wound
Easy is to forgive others
Difficult is to ask for forgiveness
Easy is to set rules
Difficult is to follow them
Easy is to dream every night
Difficult is to fight for a dream
Easy is to show victory
Difficult is to accommodate defeat with dignity
Easy is to admire a full moon
Difficult is to see the other side
Easy is to stumble on a stone
Difficult is to get up
Easy is to enjoy life every day
Difficult is to give its real value
Easy is to pray every night
Difficult is to find God in small things
Easy is to promise something to someone
Difficult is to fulfill the promise
Easy is to say we love
Difficult is to show it every day
Easy is to criticize others
Difficult is to improve oneself
Easy is to make mistakes
Difficult is to learn from them
Easy is to weep for lost love
Difficult is to take care of it so as not to lose it
Easy is to think about improving
Difficult is to stop thinking and putting it into action
Easy is to think bad of others
Difficult is to give them the benefit of doubt
Easy is to receive
Difficult is to give
poem by Bashyam Narayanan

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An Unborn Poem
An unborn poem
Is perhaps a poetic reverie.
Sure it is, but I must say
Another poem
Has been conceived by me
It is yet to be penned down though.
It needs a pen that will never dry up
And the readers who will turn grey haired never.
Sure it is, and I must say
Within me living on
Is a poem superseding my others
Yet unborn after conception!
Certain poems are so, dear ones.
Between their conception and birth often
Scores of months entwine us the mothers to-be.
An unborn poem never dies.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair

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The Peace of Christmas
This fully spirited rendition
Of tranquilizers,
Packaged by innocence—in a manger,
In a manger,
Has surprised the hungry and the angry with peace.
But down the road in years ahead,
Mary Magdalene waits,
With many heads,
That will settle
For peace not dreamed of;
Yet cares less who cares,
And would follow her new-found dream
To view a Roman cross.
As for today, Father Christmas
Has chosen to be a toy
To countless children—a celebrity god;
Tantalizing them with gifts—not in a manger,
Not in a manger,
But packaged with superficiality
For the anger sleeping in hunger,
In ambivalence of ambience.
Accept my offer of
The peace of Christmas—not on a platter,
Not on a platter,
Neither packaged in the superfluity of moments
But the simplicity of purposeful humanity;
To be sung by shepherds
Who longed for morning light.
The peace of Christmas.
The peace of Christmas.
The peace of Christmas.
The peace of Christmas.
The peace of Christmas.
The peace of Christmas.
The peace of Christmas.
poem by Moses Kainwo

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Its Christmas Time
(wintley phipps)
Its christmas time
And you will find his love is everywhere
While shepherds watched their flocks by night
The star shone all around
Jesus came to earth
Born of mary
Prince of peace, emmanuel
I love to tell the story
And now the king born in a manger is lord of my heart
Now the king born in a manger is lord of my soul
Its christmas time
And you will find his love is everywhere
The wise men came to see his face
And glory shone around
Jesus came to earth
Born of mary
Prince of peace, emmanuel
I love to tell his story
And now the king born in a manger is lord of my heart
Now the king born in a manger is lord of my heart
Oh yes, the king born in a manger
Is lord of my heart
Now the king born in a manger
Is lord of my soul
Its christmas time
song performed by by Diana Ross

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Horse...
on that early dawn
they arrived. I will not tell you
exactly how many were they.
they brought the wild horse again
this time it is white and coy
they did not speak to me
my attention was focused on the
beautiful horse
i did not show that i liked it
i did not talk too
then they brought the horse inside
the house
and then the windows and doors
were closed
and then the white horse started to
dance
and i liked it more
it was then that i realized
what are they really
and why are they here bringing me
a beautiful white horse
will they take my antique chairs
made of rosewood?
will i bargain my house
for a horse?
just for a horse
and they whose names i do not really know
shall laugh
after they had finally taken the whole of what i have
just for a white horse whose talent is just
to dance?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Horse and Rider
The prairie blows the grasses
And whips the horse’s mane.
They travel, horse and rider,
Through the sea of amber grain
Hills roll by, and clouds pass
But steady are the horse’s hooves
Upon the wind blown grass
As they travel, horse and rider
There is no trail that they follow
No path that can be seen
There they travel, horse and rider
Upon the endless blowing green
poem by Horse Poet

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The confusing of horse and donkey
There was a man
riding on a horse
horse have a mark of cross
horse saw a monkey
and from horse comes out a donkey
poem by Shahzeb Azhar

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