Now being upon the haunches (as he necessarily must be in this case) is it impossible but he must be light in hand, because no horse can be rightly upon his haunches without being so.
quote by William Cavendish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
These are excellent lessons to break him, and make him light in hand: but nothing puts a horse so much upon his haunches, and consequently makes him so light in hand, as my new method of the pillar.
quote by William Cavendish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The main secret for a horse that is heavy upon the hand, is for the rider to have a very light one; for when he finds nothing to bear upon with his mouth, he infallibly throws himself upon the haunches for his own security.
quote by William Cavendish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sexy without sexy parts
Raised cheeks, a pointed nose,
A wide mouth, shoulders thrust
Backward, a narrow waist,
And broad haunches
Are sexy parts a woman commands with,
Severally or collectively,
To rule men gorgeously.
A few actresses possess these.
My neighbor owns only haunches
And with that she strikes me.
You, my dear, have none.
Yet you hold me fast.
Your aura is the sexiest?
26.07.2000, Paralakhemundi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
And he that said that a horse was not dressed, whose curb was not loose, said right; and it is equally true that the curb can never play, when in its right place, except the horse be upon his haunches.
quote by William Cavendish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
But my method of the pillar, as it throws the horse yet more upon the haunches, is still more effectual to this purpose, and besides always gives him the ply to the side he goes of.
quote by William Cavendish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Fog
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.
quote by Carl Sandburg (1916)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
The Sport Of Kings
I hate the horse races
Except when I'm winning
But it's always a bad sign when
Your horse starts strong and leads
The pack from the gate
He almost always falls behind by the time
He reaches the last straight-away
And the horse that started last
Gallops thru the group like his
Hooves are on fire
While his jockey whips his ass
All the way to the finish line
She left her overnight bag at my place
Where we drank a bit and horsed around
Before we left to meet up with her friends
I paced myself through the liquor cabinet
To be sure I’d be ready for an early morning romp
When we got back home
She had been talking all night to this
Thick-necked dude who got there late
With broader shoulders stronger haunches and a shinier mane
When one of her pals discreetly handed off a rubber like
They had just made a cocaine deal
I rolled my eyes and slugged
What was left in my glass
The last thing I remember that night before I blacked out:
I saw her leave with him
And slap his ass on their way
Out the door
She called me from his place the next afternoon
Audibly hungover and slightly out of breath
Her overnight bag still sat at the foot of my bed
She said she hoped I wasn’t mad
And I honestly wasn’t
We both knew this horse wouldn’t
Win, place or show
poem by Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bones give shape
Rib bones thrust forward,
Pelvic bones flung backward,
Haunches wide, paunch flat,
A woman cuts a lasting shape.
28.08.2000, Madras
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Big Jess Big Newfoundland Next Door
You look beautiful at least I think so
With soft black hair black as a crow
And loving eyes horse chestnut brown
You are the finest dog your side of town.
Against canines I don't discriminate
Though some give me reason to hate
they growl at me snarl and bark
And show off their teeth like a shark.
But Jess you act different that's true
And that's one reason I like you,
You wag your tail and lick my hand
And your type of dog I understand.
With Kerry your friend gone away
You've got no one with whom you can play
Save sit on your haunches and sigh
And gaze at Mt Evelyn sky.
You are timid for a dog of your size
So beautiful gentle and wise
You want to make friends and not war
And you'll never see battle scar.
And though you must weigh fifty kilos or more
Big Jess big Newfoundland next door
You do not seek battle or strife
All you need is the peaceful life.
And though you may say that I've got the brains of a hog
For penning doggerel to a dog
But I'll tell you were I a true poet
For Jessie a poem I'd have wrote
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Thieves and menschen
She's a precocious milky sky
A moon white opals radius
Her velvet hand of winter calls
Beckoning to all, who'll pause?
In their stalactite breaths; outdoors
‘O sees her on her footfall-haunches
Like a woodland lily unearthed.
Within these layered satin-sheets
Men in their time honoured-way
Have believed they‘re kings and princes
Thieves and menschen
But they're just not her kinsmen's children.
They're not holy in sea bound prayers
Too her the goddess of the moon
They're just dumb fed flower bees
Pollen drunk on the suns doubloons.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Mouse on the Barroom Floor
Some Guinness was spilled on the barroom floor
when the pub was shut for the night.
Out of his hole crept a wee brown mouse
and stood in the pale moonlight.
He lapped up the frothy brew from the floor,
then back on his haunches he sat.
And all night long you could hear him roar,
'Bring on the goddam cat!'
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Aint Necessarily So
(slow)
It aint necessarily so
No, it aint necessarily so
These things that youre liable,
To read in the bible.
No it aint necessarily so
(jammin)
You bet that you cant be wrong.
No place where you dont belong.
Theres nothin you dont know.
But it aint necessarily so
To you theres never no doubt.
Its either in or its out.
You sure put up quite a show.
But it aint necessarily so
I said hold, let your bad self go.
Hold on, caus you already know.
Its never maybe or might.
To you its black or its white.
If I say yes you say no.
But it anns necessarily so
Hold on, let your bad self go.
Hold on, cause you already know.
You think that you cant be wrong.
No place where you dont belong.
Theres nothing you dont know.
But it aint necessarily so
Aint necessarily so
Aint necessarily so
No no no no
No it aint necessarily so
No no no no
No no no no
No no no no
No it aint necessarily so.
No no no no
No it aint necessarily so.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Telling Our Stories
the fox came every evening to my door
asking for nothing. my fear
trapped me inside, hoping to dismiss her
but she sat till morning, waiting.
at dawn we would, each of us,
rise frm our haunches, look through the glass
then walk away.
did she gather her village around her
and sing of the hairless moon face,
the trembling snout, the ignorant eyes?
child, i tell you now it was not
the animal blood i was hiding from,
it was the poet in her, the poet and
the terrible stories she could tell.
poem by Lucille Clifton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Teamster's Farewell
Sobs En Route to a Penitentiary
Good-by now to the streets and the clash of wheels and
locking hubs,
The sun coming on the brass buckles and harness knobs.
The muscles of the horses sliding under their heavy
haunches,
Good-by now to the traffic policeman and his whistle,
The smash of the iron hoof on the stones,
All the crazy wonderful slamming roar of the street--
O God, there's noises I'm going to be hungry for.
poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
With sickening violence
They are deep,
but not deep enough,
the blackness is still within.
The crimson pours,
but the void is untouched,
Will I ever be rid of it?
It is throughout me,
I can feel it,
churning
just beneath the surface,
so why can't I reach it?
It shies away from the blade
like a cowering animal,
afraid of the light,
only that it is not a cowering animal,
It is a mass,
a strength,
a rage,
a beast
vicious and rabid,
squatting on it's rippling haunches
Waiting.
Waiting.
For a moment
a precise yet inevitable moment
to explode
in anger
to kill me with sickening violence
and abandon
the fetid
decaying
corpse
it has reduced
me
to.
(c) Copyright - 4.57pm Saturday 30th August 2008
poem by Amy J Richardson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Impossible
If they had ever told me how sweet a kiss could be
I would have said impossible, impossible for me
And if they said Id find you beyond the rainbows end
I would have said impossible, impossible, my friend
To dream about what might have been
Is strange enough for me
But now it seems Im living in
A dream too beautiful to be
If they had said a moonbeam could calm a stormy sea
I would have said impossible but now at last I see
That nothing is impossible if you are here with me
I would have said impossible but now at last I see
That nothing is impossible if you are here with me
song performed by by Nat King Cole, music by Steve Allen, lyrics by Steve Allen (1956)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Everyone who understands the nature of God rightly necessarily knows that God is to be believed and hoped in, that he is to be loved and called upon, and to be heard in all things.
quote by William Ames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Tom's Little Dog
Tom told his dog called Tim to beg,
And up at once he sat,
His two clear amber eyes fixed fast,
His haunches on his mat.Tom poised a lump of sugar on
His nose; then, "Trust!" says he;
Stiff as a guardsman sat his Tim;
Never a hair stirred he.
"Paid for!" says Tom; and in a trice
Up jerked that moist black nose;
A snap of teeth, a crunch, a munch,
And down the sugar goes!
poem by Walter de la Mare
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!