You can lead a horse to water, but a pencil must be led.
quote by Stan Laurel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Horse Is No Different From Another
You can lead a horse to the water.
But you can not force that horse to drink.
'I've heard that before.
But that particular horse being forced,
Is already accustomed to the water.
And lives on a reservoir.
When the feeding done on oats and grains,
As well as organically grown carrots...
When it wishes,
Is common.
Why did you select that horse,
When there are a multitude of them...
Dieing from thirst and have not eaten? '
Well...
I really didn't think anyone would notice.
To me,
One horse is no different from another.
'And maybe that is why,
You find yourself in such a predicament.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pencil Rain
The possible dream
Finale of seem
The moment that some call eternal that some call insane
Now helmets on each head awaiting the first lead
The pageant is named the pencil rain
The infantry stands
And holds out its hands
The marshals binoculars focus and skyward they train
Theyre searching the yonder blue
They look out for number two
The heraldry of the pencil rain
And now hear the roar that none can ignore
The thunderous clatter of splintering wood and lives that are claimed
And none who have witnessed all
Can think of a nobler cause than perishing in the pencil rain
The pencil rain
The pencil rain
The pencil rain
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes Salvation
To lessen my troubles
I stopped hanging out with relatives
And empty saviours like you
I wish I had a nickel for every miracle
That you easily tricked me into
You can lead a horse to water
But faith is another matter
So dont you surrender
Cause sometimes salvation
In the eye of the storm
Ive no time for accusations
Or conversations on all the bad, bad things you do.
Just a note from your jailor
Drugs and the relations
To all the people around you
You can lead a horse to water
But faith is another matter
So dont you surrender
Cause sometimes salvation
In the eye of the storm
Ive kept secret your superstitions
And all its twisted wisdom
That I fell into
Sister can you try and find me?
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode to Pencils
Pencil o pencil
What would i use to trace the stencil
Possibly crayon, marker, or a pen
Unfortunately they are back in the den
Could i use a pencil with color
They might be much taller
So thanks for the pencil to be born
It is easier to draw when there aren't torn
That is my ode
I hope you thought it flowed
poem by Kristi Miller
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
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Horse Character
If one horse pulls a wagon
Then he must carry
The responsibility
Of his load alone.
But if one horse
Is the lead horse
Others present
Are within the reins.
poem by Cecelia Weir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ane may lead a Horse to the water, but four and twenty cannot gar him drink.
You can lead a horse to water but you cannot make it drink.
You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.
You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink.
You can lead a horse to the water, but you can't make him drink.
Lead Balloon
Kiss my ass! I said
And I threw my drink
Tequila trickling
Down his business suit
Must be the irish blood
Fight before you think
Turn it now
You cant cowtow
You cant undo it
Its his town
And that went down
Like a lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
He said sic her, rover
That went over
Like a lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon
An angry man is just an angry man
But an angry woman
Bitch!
I had to ask him for a helping hand
It came with the heart
Of a bonaparte
Of a frozen fish
Its his town
And that went down
Like a lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
He said sic her, rover
That went over
Like a lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon
Lead balloon, lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon, lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon, lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon
Its his town
And that went down
Like a lead balloon
Lead lead lead balloon
He said sic her, rover
That went over
Like a lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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A Number 2 Pencil
We used to use a number2 pencil
to write down words we knew.
Then we advanced to pen with ink
to write and when we were through
we'd look at what we wrote with pride
and lay the pen aside.
Now we e-mail people and chat.
Pencil and pen have died.
Kids still use a pencil in school
to practice penmanship.
But slowly as they leave that scene
they start to lose that grip.
They text each other with a frenzy.
It never seems to end.
They've lost touch with a number2 pencil
and rarely use a pen.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Ghost Horse
Sitting on the window ledge
Staring straight ahead
I see you grazing in the field
The sun shining bright
And the sky a baby blue
Clouds no where to be seen
He must really love you
You wander off
Just out of sight
Behind the light pink blossom tree
I am drawn to you
I race, I run,
But I’m to late
Where have you gone?
I see you by the water stream
So quiet, so peaceful
And so magnificent
Your moves are like an angel
They almost float and fly
Your coat sparking in the sun
Your mane a radiant white
Your standing over me
Nudging me…..
I don’t know what to do
I put down my pencil and pad
And leap on your back
And you set off
So here we are
Racing through the field
Hunters go past
The hunters are gone
Yet I see a horse
Its rider face down in the mud
A Whinny but no scream
Sitting on the window ledge
staring straight ahead
Now I watch that hunters horse
because that horse lost its rider
I asked around
Yet noone knew of a horse
With a coat that sparkled in the sun
With a mane a radiant white
and till this say, i swear ill see you again
poem by Megzii Invisable
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The Horse That I Am Riding
then finally, the horse that i am riding,
the black one with long hair and
long feet, flying without wings,
speed nearing the speed of light,
has taken the lead, and the rest follow
tirelessly still,
i do not look back,
i do not beat the horse with a stick
i keep on riding making the horse
feel confident that i am still
supporting its cause, to be first,
to be famous
and then my horse wins,
the owner gets the real buck,
and i the jockey,
merely receives a little name
and a little commission.
the horse gets nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Morning Sunlight
The sunlight hits down on the dew of the grass.
The farm animals walk past,
I turn to my horse.
This animal is the best love source.
I look towards the sun,
A new day has begun.
The pinkish-orange sky is beautiful.
The chilly breeze is suitable.
It won't be long until it gets warm.
I look off into the distance to see around the fresh hay, an animal swarm.
I couldn't blame them, I'd be hungry, too.
Laying in that barn all night in the cold with nothing to do.
I slip into my cowboy boots and throw on my cowgirl hat,
soon, roams by, the old, fat, cat.
That cat is so old, he's older than me.
He probably can't even see.
I lead my horse out to the pasture.
I remember what it was like here last year.
Not even a single horse let-lone a pony.
Now its filled with grazer, even an animal full of balony.
That pig is so cute I could cry.
Cross my heart and hope to die, I promise this is not a lie.
I smile and fill the food pan.
Fill the water cans.
It is my job of course.
I mount my horse.
September 24,2012
poem by Anna Hardin
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Cobwebs in My Mind
You can lead a horse to water,
but you cannot make it drink.
I lead my pen to paper,
but it refuses to write.
My pen is not empty,
but I feel my imagination is
and I wonder if
I have run out of steam.
The world is filled with wondrous things
that my minded refuses to think about.
Once upon a time
my imagination gushed from my pen,
now it’s only a trickle
and only now and then.
I sit here at my desk
and look out the window
at the wind blowing the trees.
Maybe if I stood outside
it might blow away
the cobwebs in my mind.
(10 August 2011)
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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12. Moonlight River
Black horse, strolling alone, to the river
He lowers his neck and drinks the water
Black clouds, shading the rays from the sky
White horse, treading alone, to the river
She lowers her neck and drinks the water
Black clouds, fusing the shadow into the night
Gradually the clouds disperse, and the moon
Shines warmly on the black horse
It lifts up its head and looks around
The white horse has disappeared.
(Aug 23,2004)
poem by Eugene Issaus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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