When a child, my dreams rode on your wishes, I was your son, high on your horse, My mind a top whipped by the lashes Of your rhetoric, windy of course.
quote by Stephen Spender
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
A White Horse Of The Most Magical Kind
She rode a white horse,
rode it for sanity;
galloped and cantered
with rhythmic consistency,
walked for a while
along glistening streams
and trotted through dark woods
with the darkest of dreams.
Bridled with a need to express
she rode east and rode west,
never stopping or ceasing her quest,
until she reached
the most beautiful shore,
of a beach of white sand
with a moon in the sky
that reached with its moonlight
into her heart, that had cried.
She dismounted the horse
and danced on the sands
with stars in her eyes;
pure love in her hands.
She looked at her horse
praised it and said
'a horse such as you
is a magical find
a horse that's named poetry
is the most wonderful kind.'
poem by David Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
High Horse
Get up on your high horse, woman
Get up on your high horse now
And get up on your high horse, woman
I'll make it up to you somehow
Moonlit shadow, she starts a trippin' firelight
Jumpin' the trees lyin' across the right of way
Silvery mornin' it glistens down the valley
But she don't stop 'til we ride the night away
Get up on your high horse, woman
Get up on your high horse now
Get up on your high horse, woman
I'll make it up to you somehow
Blonde braids tangle at the misty break of mornin'
Catchin' light through a dusty window pane
Lost in lust, in denial of the warnin'
She digs her heels in this stallion's flank again
Get up on your high horse, woman
Get up on your high horse now
Get up on your high horse, woman
I'll make it up to you somehow
Get up on your high horse, woman
You paid the price, you get to play
Get up on your high horse, woman
You're gonna ride to the break of day
To the break of day
To the break of day
To the break of day
Get up on your high horse, woman
Get up on your high horse now
Get up on your high horse, woman
I'll make it up to you somehow
Get up on your high horse, woman
You paid the price, you get to play
Get up on your high horse, woman
You're gonna ride to the break of day
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Horse Called Music
High on a mountain in western Montana
A silouette moves across a cinammon sky
Riding along on a horse he calls Music
With a song on his lips, and a tear in his eye
He dreams of a time, and a lady that loved him
and how he would sing her sweet lullabye's
but we dont ever ask him, and he never talks about her
I guess its just better that we all let it slide
chorus:
And he sings Oooh to the ladies
and Oooh he makes 'em sigh
Then he rides away on a horse he calls Music
With a pain in his heart, and a tear in his eye
Now he rode the Music from Boston to Bozman
For not too much money, and way too much ride
But those were the days when a horse he called Music
Could jump through the moon and fly across the sky
Now all thats left is an old time worn cowboy
With only his dreams of the days long gone by
And trailin behind is a horse with no rider
A horse he calls Memories that she used to ride
Chorus
High on a mountain in western Montana
Two crossed cut through a cinammon sky
Marking the place where a horse he called Music
Lays with a cowboy there by his side
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Windy Town
Theres gotta be something more to this life were given
Gotta be peace o mind and a piece o living
When the losers have won
And the damage is done
Only then will you be saved.
She dancing on thin ice while her mind is skating
Hes building on the dust that is suffocating
And a baby that cries
In a city of lies
For a freedom that is craved
And high will you fly tonight
In dreams you can hold this tight
But when will love blow round
When will love blow through windy town.
Sunny had a street that she couldnt live in
Sunny had a room that she couldnt breath in
But a heart that could feel
And a hand that could heal
And a passion filled with rage.
I never felt the air with a wind of change
I only felt a storm with a wind and rain
A city so deep
A soul without sleep
And a heart thats filled with pain
And high will you fly tonight
In dreams you can hold this tight
But when will love blow round
When will love blow through windy town.
Look out on a million dreams
Theres fire in all those schemes
Feel the burn of investigation
Love will be your inspiration.
Baby lets go again
On me and you it all depends
The power of love is a powerful friend
And I will love you till the end.
And high will you fly tonight
In dreams you can hold this tight
But when will love blow round
When will love blow around
When will love blow through windy town.
Baby through windy town
When will love blow.
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Masochistic Wishes
There is a need for some,
To get their pleasure felt and delivered...
Whipped and beatened.
And treated sadistically.
By those wanting nothing more,
Than to give those requesting...
For them what is adored.
Punishment?
No.
Not when it is condoned like this.
It's that masochistic thing!
When one has a list of preferred afflictions.
Effective grief received and delivered...
Is a comfort to many fitting this category.
With a desire to feel pain,
One misses and begs to get.
Masochistic wishes as if a Christmas gift.
Wanting every bit of this sadisticness.
One can not resist.
Masochistic wishes promised and a bliss this is.
There is a need for some,
To get their pleasure felt and delivered...
Whipped and beatened.
And treated sadistically.
Masochistic wishes,
One misses and begs to get.
Punishment?
No.
Not when it is condoned like this.
Whipped and beatened into bliss like this.
Masochistic wishes,
One misses and begs to get.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Those Middle Class Days
Clawing up from a struggle,
And snuggled once on that horse...
With a pride and a grin,
One wore when one rode in then...
Isn't easy these days,
To mount back on...
And giddy-up to ride away again.
No.
Some chose to get off their high horses,
To deepen their debts.
With a credit now...
Needing to be repaid with a lot of regret.
And...
Those middle class days feasted,
Now have gone.
Unbelieving that a riding on a high horse...
And the barn it was kept,
Has vanished to be either auctioned or pawned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Cowboy And The Rainbow... ' (Cowboy Poem # 3)
A Cowboy, Neath A Rainbow
Rode The Range, Far and Free
Holding Lightning Reins, and A Lasso
Strung Around His Untamed Dreams
Riding On His Horse, named Bullseye-Shoot
A Big, Bay Thoroughbred
Galloped Long, Nudged by The Cowboy’s Boots
To Race, As Dark Clouds Fled …
… Away, As Each Hoof Struck The Ground
Sounding, Just Like Thunder!
The Cowboy and Horse, Were Rainbow-Bound
Both, A Romantic, Climatic-Color Wonder!
Flashing Across The Range
On A Silver Saddle and Same Kind of Spurs
The Cowboy’s Hat and Horse’s Tail and Mane
And Sunset … All Became A Rainbow-Blur …
As The Cowboy, Lassoed The Wind
So Fast, They Did Go!
So Fast, His Lariat Did Spin …
I Think He Caught His Rainbow…
… A Cowboy Neath A Rainbow
Rode The Range, Far and Free
Holding Lightning Reins and A Lasso
Strung Around His Untamed Dreams …
poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rhetoric (Acrostic)
: Rhetoric (Acrostic) 090a
Rhetoric is the art of polish and refinement.
Harlot verbiage moving from context to context.
Every now and then causing simple mis-judgement.
Tenses abound within rhetorical speeches.
Orator! When will you, if ever, learn?
Rhetoric shows up many words to be sinful.
Independent, discreet as a testified secret.
Cant saturation, dismiss rhetoric to Limbo.
poem by Philip Winchester
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
That Rollercoaster Ride I Rode
I'd like to keep,
You...
On my mind.
It's satisfying all the time.
And I'd like to keep,
You...
In my dreams.
To wake up and to see,
You...
Here with me.
I feel that load...
Off of my shoulders.
When you look glowing sunny and bright.
And I'm glad I know,
That...
Rollercoaster ride I rode,
Has ended.
I'd like to keep,
You...
In my dreams.
To wake up and to see,
You...
Near to me.
And I'd like to keep,
You...
On my mind.
It's satisfying all the time.
To know that I am yours and you're mind,
For the rest of our lives.
I'm glad I know,
That...
Rollercoaster ride I rode,
Nonstop until I couldn't let go...
Has finally ended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Different Sunset.
Kempton was one of your
Best friends at school he
Was a year older than you
And having had polio it left
Him with a limp and when
He ran it seemed as if he was
Riding an imaginary horse
And to keep up with him
You had to ride one too.
Your horse was brown
And ordinary but his was
White like the one the Lone
Ranger rode and when you
Both came out of the movies
You rode off into the sunset
Together you trying to keep
Up with him as he rode ahead.
You envied his small collection
Of knives. His father brought
Them back from the WW2 taken
From dead Germans and they
Were laid out in his bedroom
Like a small treasure trove big
And small ones and your eyes
Ran over them bound down
With an inner envy. All you had
Was a small penknife which you
Bought out of pocket money
You’d earned running errands
And kept in the loop of your jeans
Where the belt went through.
Kempton rode off into another
Bright sunset from you in 1961.
You think of him now and then
Riding into a different sunset
A young boy amongst old men.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Between My Horse's Wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
The wind rushing forcefully
Through my long dark hair
The feel of the cool air
Beneath the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy
The muscles work powerfully
To drive us into the night
The stars wink like little lights
Above the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As I ride over the ocean and sea
My muscles tense as I hold
My skin red from the windy cold
Flowing past the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
I revel in this dangerous ecstasy
A silvery mane blows in my face
Blown back, by the wind we race
Born on by the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As we fly through the air swiftly
My face is lifted toward the sky
Arms outstretched, wind rushing by
The beating of the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
Faster and faster, we seem to fly
The wind tugging at my body
As I look to the heavenly bodies
Shining on the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
My horse flies gracefully
Over the fields and streams
Are these things only my dreams?
Sitting between the horse’s wings
poem by Horse Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Riding The Dark Horse
Riding along on the dark horse of sadness.
Each day or night.
The dark horse is my companion.
We ride through life.
On a dark stream of light.
Riding along side is depression.
My second companion.
We ride together in search of happiness.
We never find.
Riding the dark horse through this life.
I'm filled with sorrow.
Tears are inside.
As I reflect on my journey through life.
I see that the dark horse has always been,
what I ride.
The dark horse of sorrow.
Has always been by my side.
I will continue to ride,
The dark horse in this life.
Until I die.
Exchanging the dark horse for white,
as I cross the great divide.
Entering the gates of life on the other side.
Where happiness I may finally find.
Leaving the dark horse of sorrow behind.
Taking the two companions,
sorrow and depression with me.
As I ride to the other side.
Changing their apperance to laughter and joy.
As I dismount on heaven's shore.
Filled with so much joy.
As I look back on my journey.
That I rode to heavens door.
I finally see the beauty of my companions.
That rode with me upon life's shores.
They changed before my eyes.
Becoming laughter and joy.
Beautiful spirits of love to behold.
That rode on the dark horse of life with me.
Till reaching heavens shore.
poem by Weeping Willow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
* * *
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Between My Horse's Wings (Expanded)
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
The wind rushing forcefully
Through my long dark hair
The feel of the cool air
Beneath the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy
The muscles work powerfully
To drive us into the night
The stars wink like little lights
Above the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As I ride over the ocean and sea
My muscles tense as I hold
My skin red from the windy cold
Flowing past the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
I revel in this dangerous ecstasy
A silvery mane blows in my face
Blown back, by the wind we race
Born on by the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As we fly through the air swiftly
My face is lifted toward the sky
Arms outstretched, wind rushing by
The beating of the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
Faster and faster, we seem to fly
The wind tugging at my body
As I look to the heavenly bodies
Shining on the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
My horse flies gracefully
Over the fields and streams
Are these things only my dreams?
Sitting between the horse’s wings
Far Fetched
I wish to see the flag fly high
and never at half mast.
I wish to see the world at peace
and not repeat the past.
I wish to hear the bugler play
his morning reveille
and never hear the sound of taps
from war's sad memory.
I wish to see all fields of battle
come to life again
and filled with penitent faces
that bring hatred to an end.
Wishes are wishes.
Dreams are dreams
and usually come apart
at the seams,
but I still wish anyway.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
interpretation of Odin's hanging
Odin hung
& all the following Old Norse mouthpieces of Odin
hung on Hávamál's Speech of the High One's windy
constantly verdant world tree
Yggdrasil
Ygg: 'the terrifying'
one of Odin's epithets
& drasil: 'horse'
hung pierced by a spear like a rider hit in battle
down from the horseback
& at the same time
at the same time like a fetus
for nine days with its head downwards
in a womb
*
Fetus in birth position the terrifying one hanging from
his horse from the durably verdant
swift & inwardly feared & fertilizing phallus of the horse of death
poem by Mikael Ejdemyr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wishes cried for wanted child!
The wishes that are washed in tears
Are for a pitied child
Who knows no love and warmth of heart
I wish this reconciled
The wishes bathed in helpless brine
Do ask the reaper why
They come for child with future bright?
I wish they did not die
The wishes leaving salted trails
Are laid with grief profound
My empathy, in sorrow shared
I wish for comfort found!
poem by Stevie Taite
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!