Take a man by his word, take a bull by its horn.
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Hernani
Cistercians might crack their sides
With laughter, and exemption get,
At sight of heroes clasping brides,
And hearing--O the horn! the horn!
The horn of their obstructive debt!
But quit the stage, that note applies
For sermons cosmopolitan,
Hernani. Have we filched our prize,
Forgetting . . .? O the horn! the horn!
The horn of the Old Gentleman!
poem by George Meredith
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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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Not only the bull attacks his enemies with curved horn, but also the sheep, when harmed fights back.
quote by Sextus Propertius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Bull Horn Grip
Eagle like, descends the road,
deep red wine potion, brusque,
as hidden eyes reckon in dusk
of this man to stare and bode.
Hours so, consent to darkness;
starry skies salute his walking,
tis maids of long mane talking,
about a raw prowess to egress.
In the tavern, at the dockside,
pipers play a monotonous mode,
destinies weave, deathly abode,
in deep spaces of brines abide.
A drink is life, glass of grog,
players render the pipes loud,
dim stars blink and a low cloud,
covers the shore in shroud fog.
Pipers monotonous tones wield,
dew drops dropp from foreheads,
Charon awaits for a spilled red,
a bull horn blade of Sheffield.
Outside steps, inside the mist,
maids weave, his life's thread,
Persephone will be his one wed,
his bull horn Sheffield, in fist.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Today... 'The Word
Word of love and the Word made flesh
Word incarnate forever blessed
Word of life and the Word of light
Word of power and Word of might.
Word that was spoken, Word of the Lord
Word of the Law and the Word of God
Word of peace and Word eternal
Word of truth and last Word of all.
Word of wisdom and the Word of healing
Word from heaven, a Word so appealing
Word fulfilling the Word of prophecy
Word of the Spirit and Word of destiny.
Word of exhortation and Word of grace
Word of encouragement and Word of faith
Word of promise and a Word of insight
Word from the beginning and Word of delight.
Word of knowledge and a Word of boldness
Word of peace and the Word of righteousness
Word of the covenant and Word of love
Word of the Father from heaven above.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
The Word
Find the word, understand the word,
Depend on the word;
The word is heaven and space, the word the earth,
The word the universe.
The word is in our ears, the word is on our tongues,
The word the idol.
The word is the holy book, the word is harmony,
The word is music.
The word is magic, the word the Guru.
The word is the body, the word is the spirit, the word is being,
The word Not-being.
The word is man, the word is woman,
The Worshipped Great.
The word is the seen and unseen, the word is the existent
And the non-existent.
Know the word, says Kabir,
The word is All-powerful.
I LOST A GEM.(part 1)
I lost a gem
too young to be deceived i was
that after the last days he shall rise
Hm! truly i lost a gem
i lost a gem
repeating the word mama
but none to call pa
now i know i lost a gem
i lost a gem
time now for him to see
me taking my pallet to walk
now his no more, i lost a gem
i lost a gem
whose place took a chunk in my heart
night needs night for me to collapse my theprapy
that truly, he cant be so important, i lost a gem
i lost a gem
but nevertheless am strong
taking the bull by the horn
if that is the cure of his therapy
at the underground world he use to plough
when he was man alive
definately i will sugar-colt his heart
to see that his left over ten
has made him alive.
poem by Mimiko moruf oluwakayode
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Patel
Twelve energetic men in the huddles,
And one of them to win the race;
But the great breakthrough is that,
The quantum order of metaphysics is here!
And this is like the fusion of one's love.
Harness your mind towards success!
And take the bull by the horn;
For it is just like the Candid Show;
And with the anecdotes of the people!
But i am Patel from India.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Every Friday
Every Friday I look like a shit,
Every Friday I look like a shit,
Every Friday I look like a shit,
I loooooooook like a shit.
But every Monday I am like a horn,
But every Monday I am like a horn,
But every Monday I am like a horn,
I aaaaaaaaam like a hoooooooooorn.
I work in the office of intercom,
I work in the office of intercom,
I work in the office of intercom,
Of iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinter cooooooom.
But every Monday I am like a horn,
And every Tuesday I am like a horn,
On Wednesday and Tuesday I am a horn,
I aaaaaaaaaaaam like a hoooooooooooorn.
On every Friday I look like a shit,
My salary is more now a little bit.
But every Monday I am like a horn,
It looks as on Sunday I was born.
On Friday morning I am so glad
That by the evening I’ll look like a fad
Or may be like a dirty pig
Trying the ground to dig, dig, dig.
But…every Monday I am like a horn,
On certain Sunday I was born,
And every Friday I am like a shit.
My life is better........, a little bit.
More or less
It was my sincere confess.
Lol, lol, lol and loooooooool.
On every Friday there is no control.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
March 16th,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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The bull should be taken by the horns, a man at his word.
Take the bull by the horns and the man at his word.
Coincidence is the word we use when we can't see the levers and pulleys.
An ox can be taken by his horn, a man by his word.
Take a man by his word and a cow by her horn.
Murdering Ambition
it is an overgrowth
protruding on my forehead like a horn of a bull
its uglification of my being has become overt
and destructive
and so i have decided to cut it with a sharp saw
not to hurt myself
since its sharpness is inside the temple.
there is this content of the air
the one that drifts but for a time refreshes
the one that is with us when
the sun gets so hot
when the temperature rises
when the heat wave kills.
ambition, i am letting it go
since i still have many other good things to do
for you, my people.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LVII: Used
There’s no word ‘used’ with loneliness
There’s no word ‘used’ with boredom
There’s no word ‘used’ with pain
There’s no word ‘used’ with rejection
There’s no word ‘used’ with ignorance
There’s no word ‘used’ with guilty
There’s no word ‘used’ with sacrifice
There’s no word ‘used’ with problem
There’s no word ‘used’ with slavery
There’s no word ‘used’ with piracy
There’s no word ‘used’ with power
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Horn
Rhine wine, car horn
Now that youve deceived me, and played my name around
And hung those nasty flyers, on all the buildings in town
Dribbled my possessions in a ring around the earth
And bought and sold my self-control for less than it was worth
Now I know the reason that Im feeling so forlorn
Ill pick you up at eight as usual, listen for my horn
Rhine wine, car horn
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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