I sit astride life like a bad rider on a horse. I only owe it to the horse's good nature that I am not thrown off at this very moment.
quote by Ludwig Wittgenstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Heroin
Death is a rider on a pale horse, Honey.
Yah roll up your sleeve and yah lay down your money.
Death is a rider on a pale horse.
A cord around your arm and the needle hunts your vein.
You'll starve in your dreams with the lotus in your brain.
Death is a rider on a pale horse.
There's blood in your eyes, and your time's not free.
Selling it like that will get yah HIV.
Death is a rider on a pale horse.
Death is a rider on a pale horse, Honey.
Yah roll up your sleeve and yah lay down your money.
Ya, death is a rider on a pale horse.
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
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Dan Wasn’t Thrown from His Horse
THEY SAY he was thrown and run over,
But that is sheer nonsense, of course:
I taught him to ride when a kiddy,
And Dan wasn’t thrown from his horse.
The horse that Dan rode was a devil—
The kind of a brute I despise,
With nasty white eyelashes fringing
A pair of red, sinister eyes.
And a queerly-shaped spot on his forehead,
Where I put a conical ball
The day that he murdered Dan Denver,
The pluckiest rider of all.
’Twas after the races were over
And Duggan (a Talbragar man)
And two of the Denvers, and Barney
Were trying a gallop with Dan.
Dan’s horse on a sudden got vicious,
And reared up an’ plunged in the race,
Then threw back his head, hitting Dan like
A sledge-hammer, full in the face.
Dan stopped and got down, stood a moment,
Then fell to the ground like a stone,
And died about ten minutes after;
But they’re liars who say he was thrown.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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A Horse Life
In a horse life.We can play with a burlap feed
bag, an empty milk jug, or chew on the barn stall
door.Just to kill some time, or to kill some every
day bordom.In a horse life.We get names like
Black Beauty, Flicka, Seabiscuit, or Secretariat.
In a horse life.We do tricks like bowing our heads
down, or placing our shoe upon a pedastool.Picking
up the cowboy hat.While tapping our feet rata-tat-tat.
In a horse life.We like a good block of salt.With lots
of minerals, to lick upon.A wholesome bale of hay.To
start off a brand new day.Or a bucket of grain.To keep
us all healthy, fat, and sane.And a fresh bucket of water,
to wash it all down.In a horse life.I could be losing a
horseshoe.While the rider is losing his mind.In a horse
life.We can be a workhorse, a race horse, or a trick pony.
Or maybe a showhorse, or possibly a circus horse.With
out all the phoney baloney.In a horse life.We can run all
day in the open sun, or run the race trak.While the betters
place their wagers.Of course, at the horse racing track
betters window.In a horse life..
A Horse Life Poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2011.All rights reserved.
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Fork in the Road
A fork in the road
A choice to be made
A prayer on the lips
Which way to go?
A cowboy on his horse
A blue sky overhead
A decision to make
To trust God or not?
A man riding the plains
A horse underneath
Pondering this question
“Is it enough for me? ”
A rider on his knees
A horse stands behind
A soul is now saved
Let all heaven rejoice!
poem by Horse Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Horses for courses
See them at the starting-gate:
impatient horses tossing their bridled heads,
rearing, backing, snorting;
silk-bright riders patient;
how have they attained this race?
they’ve shared a fortitude, horse and rider together:
out at dawn in all weathers, focussed, thundering
down and round the beaten, scuffed-soil track;
never a slack training session;
they share – without a common language
save that of the heart – their discipline;
share that rare sense of unity
once forged in battle, now in peaceful excellence;
‘they’re off! ’ – the race begun;
all around, the watchers shouting, jumping, waving race-cards;
the rider, in the camera’s eye,
so calm; invisibly controlling;
amidst all this excited noise,
they are the quietest;
amidst all this galloping,
they are the stillest in their mind;
yet who knows a horse’s mind,
to say what’s patiently endured,
the daily training, bridle, bit and whip;
or what’s sheer exultation for a horse?
or where the discipline and freedom meet?
who knows what may be horse’s sheer contentment?
knows what contentment may exceed
that of horse being horse? …
as rider knows, that, win or lose, he’s done his best,
for himself and for the horse..
what do horse and rider share
between themselves, that’s
never spoken? For, see: each,
a clear and shining eye..
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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Bare-Back Rider (A Lucid Dream)
He was a stallion
A big black horse, I was
Astride his back, muscular, bare
Hanging on to mere tufts
of his shiny black hair
I don’t know how I got there
It seemed like a dream
Me on this big horse galloping
through a dark forest thick with trees
with gnarly branches reaching for me
Terrified I crouch as low as I can
Try to grip the horse’s flesh
but I couldn't so I hold on
to his mane for dear life
and with a prayer I close my eyes
Don’t throw me off
Don’t let this forest take me
Don't leave me here
This nightmare will devour me
Please go slow dear horse
Don't stumble and fall
Be careful of the rocks
And branches hanging low
But he would not go slow, oh no!
He was on a mission
To where I didn’t know
I had no choice but to hold on
Clinging for my life
Praying the branches won’t
Hit him in the eyes
So I stay there like that, eyes shut
My body as close to to his as I could get
My face pressed to his neck
I cry, wracked with fear
Certain I would die right there
After a while, after what seemed like ages
And nothing happening
Only the sound of hoofs
and the wind whipping
I suddenly realize...
This horse is bigger than me
If the branches don’t hit him
How can they hit me
He is not afraid of the dark
If he's not afraid of dying
Why should I be
Slowly I sit upright
Slowly I open my eyes
The scenery had changed
The rider and the horse are now
One and the same
poem by Sonya Florentino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brown Horses
The brownness of a rider and his horse carried his horse,
A major and great horsemanship approached the brown horse.
There was magnetism, speech of behaviour, with the horseman
Who was riding his animal of great pleasurableness.
To please this pleasure was great, but the riding housed a rider
Who had spectators looking in this and that direction.
An insect was a smaller kind of animal, housing a rider,
But animals like horses of brown worked hard and fast,
Too praiseworthy, in a gamble, far too important and big.
The brown horses had shadows with the hospitals,
A novel became written of them, of their health and waists.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Pale Horse & His Rider
Recorded by hank williams, sr. (with audrey williams)
Words and music by johnny bailes, ervin staggs, zeke clements
And muriel deason wright (aka kitty wells)
[g] listen poor sinner; youre driftin away
>from the dear saviour; whos pleading to-[d] day
[g] what will you do; when the saviour aint [c] nigh
When the pale [g] horse and his [d] rider goes [g] by?
The time now aint long; when the saviour will come
Then youll be judged; by the deeds you have done
On that judgement day; youll weep and youll cry
When the pale horse and his rider goes by?
When that trumpet sounds; on the sinners below
Not even the angels; in heaven will know
Thens when youll wish; you had jesus nigh
When the pale horse and his rider goes by?
Wont you redeem; your poor wicked soul
You cant pay your way; with silver and gold
If youre not saved; youll be lost in the night
When the pale horse and his rider goes by?
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pale Horse And His Rider
Recorded by hank williams, sr. (with audrey williams)
Words and music by johnny bailes, ervin staggs, zeke clements
And muriel deason wright (aka kitty wells)
[g] listen poor sinner; youre driftin away
>from the dear saviour; whos pleading to-[d] day
[g] what will you do; when the saviour aint [c] nigh
When the pale [g] horse and his [d] rider goes [g] by?
The time now aint long; when the saviour will come
Then youll be judged; by the deeds you have done
On that judgement day; youll weep and youll cry
When the pale horse and his rider goes by?
When that trumpet sounds; on the sinners below
Not even the angels; in heaven will know
Thens when youll wish; you had jesus nigh
When the pale horse and his rider goes by?
Wont you redeem; your poor wicked soul
You cant pay your way; with silver and gold
If youre not saved; youll be lost in the night
When the pale horse and his rider goes by?
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry 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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm the worst rider. I'm a terrible rider. Me and horses are not a good mix. For some reason, people are always trying to get me on a horse in a movie.
quote by Dana Delany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghost Song
An old man and an old horse moved slowly and steadily
towards the furthest mountain.
An old man on an old horse.
The old man thought of the many times he'd been thrown;
the old horse, how many times he'd been ridden.
They weren't in no great rush.
The old man sat straight in the saddle, head held high.
The old horse kept his head high too,
letting his feet choose the way as they
searched the clouds looking for any old friends
they had passed on the way.
A soft gentle rain started to fall,
the horse stopped, the old man bent over
and stroked his friend's neck
poem by William Mendelson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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* * *
Papa on the horse
As I remember,
Papa rode on the horse
the White horse
He was so cruel
And he would not
Feed
The white horse
For days
One day
They went to the
Sea
The white horse
And papa
I wished the
White horse
Would swim
To the other island
And leave
Papa for good
He was so cruel
And he would beat
The white horse
For days
But the white horse
Stayed
she was not fed
For days
One day
The White Horse
Got mad
And bit
Papa to death.
I did not wish
The horse
Would eat
Papa whole.
I too would be
Cruel then.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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