Zu der edlen Yagd
I remember some words my father said,
When I was an urchin vain ;—
God rest his soul, in his narrow bed
These ten long years he hath lain.
When I think one drop of the blood he bore
This faint heart surely must hold,
It may be my fancy and nothing more,
But the faint heart seemeth bold.
He said that as from the blood of grape,
Or from juice distilled from the grain,
False vigour, soon to evaporate,
Is lent to nerve and brain,
So the coward will dare on the gallant horse
What he never would dare alone,
Because he exults in a borrowed force,
And a hardihood not his own.
And it may be so, yet this difference lies
'Twixt the vine and the saddle-tree,
The spurious courage that drink supplies
Sets our baser passions free ;
But the stimulant which the horseman feels,
When he gallops fast and straight,
To his better nature most appeals
And charity conquers hate.
As the kindly sunshine thaws the snow,
E'en malice and spite will yield,
We could almost welcome our mortal foe
In the saddle by flood and field ;
And chivalry dawns in the merry tale
That 'Market Harborough' writes,
And the yarns of 'Nimrod' and 'Martingale'
Seem legends of loyal knights.
Now, tell me for once, old horse of mine
Grazing round me loose and free,
Does your ancient equine heart repine
For a burst in such companie,
Where 'the Powers that be' in the front rank ride,
To hold your own with the throng,
Or to plunge at 'Faugh-a-Ballagh's' side
In the rapids of Dandenong ?
Don't tread on my toes, you're no foolish weight,
So I found to my cost, as under
Your carcass I lay, when you rose too late,
Yet I blame you not for the blunder.
What ! sulky, old man, your under lip falls !
You think I too ready to rail am
At your kinship remote to that duffer at walls,
The talkative roadster of Balaam.
poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Short Shrift
I can mind him at the start -
Easy seat and merry heart!
Said he, as he threw a glance
At the crawling ambulance:
'Some day I'll be on the ground
And the van will hurry round!
Doc. will gravely wag his head:
'No use now! the poor chap's dead!'
'Every man must, soon or late,
Turn up at the Golden Gate:
When we weigh in - you and I -
How can horsemen better die!'
On that sunlit steeple course
He lay prone beneath his horse,
Never more his pal may ride
By that gallant hlorseman's side.
'Reckless fool?' What matter, mate?
All his time he'd ridden straight -
Went (smashed 'gainst that wall of sod!)
Spurred and booted to his God.
Carve in stone above his head
Words that some old Christian said:
'Grace he sought, and grace he found,
'Twixt the saddle and the ground!'
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
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By Flood and Field 2
They have saddled a hundred milk-white steeds,
They have bridled a hundred black.—Old Ballad.
'He turned in his saddle, now follow who dare,
I ride for my country, quoth . . .'—Lawrence.
I REMEMBER the lowering wintry morn,
And the mist on the Cotswold hills,
Where I once heard the blast of the huntsman's horn,
Not far from the seven rills.
Jack Esdale was there, and Hugh St. Clair,
Bob Chapman and Andrew Kerr,
And big George Griffiths on Devil-May-Care,
And—black Tom Oliver.
And one who rode on a dark-brown steed,
Clean jointed, sinewy, spare,
With the lean game head of the Blacklock breed,
And the resolute eye that loves the lead,
And the quarters massive and square—
A tower of strength, with a promise of speed
(There was Celtic blood in the pair).
I remember how merry a start we got,
When the red fox broke from the gorse,
In a country so deep, with a scent so hot,
That the hound could outpace the horse ;
I remember how few in the front rank show'd,
How endless appeared the tail,
On the brown hill side, where we cross'd the road,
And headed towards the vale.
The dark-brown steed on the left was there,
On the right was a dappled grey,
And between the pair, on a chestnut mare,
The duffer who writes this lay.
What business had 'this child' there to ride ?
But little or none at all ;
Yet I held my own for a while in 'the pride
That goeth before a fall.'
Though rashness can hope for but one result,
We are heedless when fate draws nigh us,
And the maxim holds good, 'Quem perdere vult
Deus, dementat prius.'
The right hand man to the left hand said,
As down in the vale we went,
'Harden your heart like a millstone, Ned,
And set your face as flint ;
Solid and tall is the rasping wall
That stretches before us yonder ;
You must have it at speed or not at all,
'Twere better to halt than to ponder,
For the stream runs wide on the take-off side,
And washes the clay bank under ;
Here goes for a pull, 'tis a madman's ride,
And a broken neck if you blunder.'
No word in reply his comrade spoke,
Nor waver'd nor once look'd round,
But I saw him shorten his horse's stroke
As we splash'd through the marshy ground ;
I remember the laugh that all the while
On his quiet features play'd :—
So he rode to his death, with that careless smile,
In the van of the 'Light Brigade' ;
So stricken by Russian grape, the cheer
Rang out, while he toppled back,
From the shattered lungs as merry and clear
As it did when it roused the pack.
Let never a tear his memory stain,
Give his ashes never a sigh,
One of many who perished, Not in vain,
As a type of our chivalry—
I remember one thrust he gave to his hat,
And two to the flanks of the brown,
And still as a statue of old he sat,
And he shot to the front, hands down ;
I remember the snort and the stag-like bound
Of the steed six lengths to the fore,
And the laugh of the rider while, landing sound,
He turned in his saddle and glanced around ;
I remember—but little more,
Save a bird's-eye gleam of the dashing stream
A jarring thud on the wall,
A shock and the blank of a nightmare's dream—
I was down with a stunning fall
poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
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The Knight's Leap: A Legend of Altenar
'So the foemen have fired the gate, men of mine;
And the water is spent and gone?
Then bring me a cup of the red Ahr-wine:
I never shall drink but this one.
'And reach me my harness, and saddle my horse,
And lead him me round to the door:
He must take such a leap to-night perforce,
As horse never took before.
'I have fought my fight, I have lived my life,
I have drunk my share of wine;
From Trier to Coln there was never a knight
Led a merrier life than mine.
'I have lived by the saddle for years two score;
And if I must die on tree,
Then the old saddle tree, which has borne me of yore,
Is the properest timber for me.
'So now to show bishop, and burgher, and priest,
How the Altenahr hawk can die:
If they smoke the old falcon out of his nest,
He must take to his wings and fly.'
He harnessed himself by the clear moonshine,
And he mounted his horse at the door;
And he drained such a cup of the red Ahr-wine,
As man never drained before.
He spurred the old horse, and he held him tight,
And he leapt him out over the wall;
Out over the cliff, out into the night,
Three hundred feet of fall.
They found him next morning below in the glen,
With never a bone in him whole-
A mass or a prayer, now, good gentlemen,
For such a bold rider's soul.
Eversley, 1864.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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Boot and Saddle
I
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery gray,
Chorus. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
II
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay—
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
III
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array:
Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
IV
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
poem by Robert Bloomfield from Cavalier Tunes (1842)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Unbelievable
Its unbelievable, its strange but true,
Its inconceivable it could happen to you.
You go north and you go south
Just like bait in the fishs mouth.
Ya must be livin in the shadow of some kind of evil star.
Its unbelievable it would get this far.
Its undeniable what theyd have you to think,
Its indescribable it can drive you to drink.
They said it was the land of milk and honey,
Now they say its the land of money.
Who ever thought they could ever make that stick.
Its unbelievable you can get this quick.
Bridge #1:
Every head is so dignified, every moon is so sanctified,
Every urge is so satisfied as long as youre with me.
All the silver, all the gold, all the sweethearts you can hold
That dont come back with stories untold, are hanging on a tree.
Its unbelievable like a lead balloon,
Its so impossible to even learn the tune.
Kill that beast and feed that swine,
Scale that wall and smoke that vine,
Feed that horse and saddle up the drum.
Its unbelievable, the day would finally come.
Bridge #2:
Once there was a man who had no eyes,
Every lady in the land told him lies,
He stood beneath the silver skies
And his heart began to bleed.
Every brain is civilized,
Every nerve is analyzed,
Everything is criticized when you are in need.
Its unbelievable, its fancy-free,
So interchangeable, so delightful to see.
Turn your back, wash your hands,
Theres always someone who understands
It dont matter no more what you got to say
Its unbelievable it would go down this way.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cavalier Tunes: Boot and Saddle
Boot, saddle, to horse and away!
Rescue my Castle, before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery gray,
(Chorus)
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay--
(Chorus)
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array:
Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
(Chorus)
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?
(Chorus)
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
poem by Robert Browning
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Delicious
April, (? )
When you get that smile in your eye.
Something inside
Goes wild wild wild.
Sunshine
Chase away my rainy days.
Our summer leave
Is here. please stay.
Chorus:
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that set me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Ill (hold) never ever ever let you go.
Youre (you) my taste of honey, girl.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Rainbow
Let me know the storm has past.
These memories
Will last and last.
Passion
Curling through the core of the night.
Where have you been
All my life.
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that sets me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Ill (hold) never ever ever let you go.
Youre (you) my taste of honey, girl.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
We as one
Here we lie.
Holding hands
Across the sky.
Please be mine. Ill never ever leave you.
Please be mine.
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that sets me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Ill (hold) never ever ever let you go.
Youre (you) my taste of honey, girl.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious. (put the fire in my heart)
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that set me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious. (put the fire in my heart)
Ill (hold) never ever ever let you go.
Youre (you) my taste of honey, girl.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious. (put the fire in my heart)
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that set me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious. (you put the fire in my heart)
Ill (hold) never ever ever let you go.
Youre (you) my taste of honey, girl.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Hold.
You.
You.
Delicious.
Hold.
You.
You.
Delicious.
Hold.
You.
You.
Delicious.
song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Looking for my Horse
Just the other day I lost my horse
I lost my horse, I lost it somewhere
Not here for sure or I would find it
My horse is hungry my horse must drink
The flies are horse flies you know
They zoom about my head as if to say
You are sitting on your saddle, you dummy
Your saddle under you, beneath that … a horse
poem by Werner Klokow
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Mesalliance
I am troubled to-night with a curious pain;
It is not of the flesh, it is not of the brain,
Nor yet of a heart that is breaking:
But down still deeper, and out of sight—
In the place where the soul and the body unite—
There lies the scat of the aching.
They have been lovers in days gone by;
But the soul is fickle, and longs to fly
From the fettering mesalliance:
And she tears at the bonds which are binding her so,
And pleads with the body to let her go,
But he will not yield compliance.
For the body loves, as he loved in the past,
When he wedded the soul; and he holds her fast,
And swears that he will not loose her;
That he will keep her and hide her away
For ever and ever and for a day
From the arms of Death, the seducer.
Ah! this is the strife that is wearying me—
The strife 'twixt a soul that would be free
And a body that will not let her.
And I say to my soul, 'Be calm, and wait;
For I tell ye truly that soon or late
Ye surely shall drop each fetter.'
And I say to the body, 'Be kind, I pray;
For the soul is not of thy mortal clay,
But is formed in spirit fashion.'
And still through the hours of the solemn night
I can hear my sad soul's plea for flight,
And my body's reply of passion.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Riding Home
Who are these that go to the high peaks and the snow?
Side by side do they ride, their steady eyes aglow.
Gallant gentlemen, they go spurring o'er the plain;
Home from the war again.
As they pass without a sound, there is many a red wound.
Oh, pale they are and faint they are, these warriors renowned!
Yet smiling all together in the calm sweet weather,
As they ride home together.
Where the white bed is spread and the feast is set afar
And the welcome awaits and the door stands ajar,
Those who droop to the saddle-bow they shall have rest enow,
Quiet and rest enow.
Like leaves of a wood vast their numbers as they passed,
Like winds in the pines their horses speeding fast;
And spent with victory their haggard faces be,
As they ride fast and free.
Some will meet and greet them as they leap to the ground
With soft cries, wet eyes, and fond arms around;
Lead them in to begin New Life, to which all loves
Home like a flock of doves.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Boot and Saddle
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my Castle, before the hot day
Brightens the blue from its silvery grey,
(Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay,
(Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads array:
Who laughs, Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
(Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?"
(Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
poem by Robert Browning
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Lay His Sword By His Side
Lay his sword by his side -- it hath served him too well
Not to rest near his pillow below;
To the last moment true, from his hand ere it fell,
Its point was still turn'd to a flying foe.
Fellow-labourers in life, let them slumber in death,
Side by side, as becomes the reposing brave --
That sword which he loved still unbroke in its sheath,
And himself unsubdued in his grave.
Yet pause -- for, in fancy, a still voice I hear,
As if breathed from his brave heart's remains; --
Faint echo of that which, in Slavery's ear,
Once sounded the war-word, "Burst your chains."
And it cries, from the grave where the hero lies deep,
"Though the day of your Chieftain for ever hath set,
Oh leave not his sword thus inglorious to sleep --
It hath victory's life in it yet!
"Should some alien, unworthy such weapon to wield,
Dare to touch thee, my own gallant sword,
Then rest in thy sheath, like a talisman seal'd,
Or return to the grave of thy chainless lord.
But, if grasp'd by a hand that hath learn'd the proud use
Of a falchion, like thee, on the battle-plain,
Then, at Liberty's summons, like lightning let loose,
Leap forth from thy dark sheath again!"
poem by Thomas Moore
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I Dare Not
1.
I hear strange voices in the air.
My pulses leap, I tear my hair
In rage, rebellion, and despair;
Yet dare not speak.
2.
I am for right, my foes for wrong,
But they are legion, they are strong,
And I am one amid the throng,
Alone and weak.
3.
What ear would hear me if I cried?
What comrades rally to my side?
What force have I to stem the tide?
What right have I?
4.
Though I should plunge in flood and flame,
Though I should suffer shame and blame,
The world would triumph all the same —
And I should die.
5.
Why should I join the hopeless fray?
Why should I waste my little day?
Oh, why should I be called to pay
So vast a price?
* * * *
6.
Have courage, craven soul of mine!
The light within thee is divine,
And others need to see it shine,
Let that suffice.
7.
Others beside thee quake and quail
Before the terrors that prevail;
Thy captive kindred faint and fail
As well as thou.
8.
But when thy lifted front they see,
They will take heart and soar with thee;
It is thy help to set them free
They wait for now.
9.
Give to those silent sufferers each
What inspiration he can reach;
Give righteous treason honest speech,
That all may hear.
10.
This god of custom that we dread,
This social code that weighs like lead,
What is it worth, when all is said?
What is't to fear?
11.
When with a faithful eye one sees
That they whose will we live to please,
Crush right with might for love of ease,
And selfish greed.
12.
When infinite night and silence lower
O'er such brief span of human power,
These poor conventions of an hour
Seem poor indeed.
13.
Be brave, my soul! The world may frown,
And its brute fashions bear thee down,
But Truth will swim, whate'er may drown,
And Truth will live.
14.
Be bold to speak at Truth's behest,
And, though thou suffer without rest,
Yet still thy gain shall be the best
That life can give.
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Calamity Jane
He looked like a good saddle horse
though his hair was long
and his beard three days course
she soon had the saddle on him
and he worked at the ride
it was a matter of pride
everything that he tried
drew the noose tighter still
till she'd broken his will
till he'd do anything that she said
he worked like a mule
while she soaked the young fool
taking just about all that he made
when she cut the horse loose
he was well beyond use
and she advanced on the herd once again.
poem by George Murdock
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The Birth Of The Water Baby
Little egg,
little nub,
full complement of
fingers, toes,
little rose blooming
in a red universe,
which once wanted you less
than emptiness,
but now holds you
fast,
containing your rapid heart
beat under its
slower one
as the earth
contains the sea...
O avocado pit
almost ready to sprout,
tiny fruit tree
within sight
of the sea,
little swimming fish,
little land lover,
hold on!
hold on!
Here, under my heart
you'll keep
till it's time
for us to meet,
& we come apart
that we may come
together,
& you are born
remembering
the wavesound
of my blood,
the thunder of my heart,
& like your mother
always dreaming
of the sea.
poem by Erica Jong
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Bannerman of the Dandenong
I rode through the Bush in the burning noon,
Over the hills to my bride, --
The track was rough and the way was long,
And Bannerman of the Dandenong,
He rode along by my side.
A day's march off my Beautiful dwelt,
By the Murray streams in the West; --
Lightly lilting a gay love-song
Rode Bannerman of the Dandenong,
With a blood-red rose on his breast.
"Red, red rose of the Western streams"
Was the song he sang that day --
Truest comrade in hour of need, --
Bay Mathinna his peerless steed --
I had my own good grey.
There fell a spark on the upland grass --
The dry Bush leapt into flame; --
And I felt my heart go cold as death,
And Bannerman smiled and caught his breath, --
But I heard him name Her name.
Down the hill-side the fire-floods rushed,
On the roaring eastern wind; --
Neck and neck was the reckless race, --
Ever the bay mare kept her pace,
But the grey horse dropped behind.
He turned in the saddle -- "Let's change, I say!"
And his bridle rein he drew.
He sprang to the ground, -- "Look sharp!" he said
With a backward toss of his curly head --
"I ride lighter than you!"
Down and up -- it was quickly done --
No words to waste that day! --
Swift as a swallow she sped along,
The good bay mare from Dandenong, --
And Bannerman rode the grey.
The hot air scorched like a furnace blast
From the very mouth of Hell: --
The blue gums caught and blazed on high
Like flaming pillars into the sky; . . .
The grey horse staggered and fell.
"Ride, ride, lad, -- ride for her sake!" he cried; --
Into the gulf of flame
Were swept, in less than a breathing space
The laughing eyes, and the comely face,
And the lips that named HER name.
She bore me bravely, the good bay mare; --
Stunned, and dizzy and blind,
I heard the sound of a mingling roar --
'Twas the Lachlan River that rushed before,
And the flames that rolled behind.
Safe -- safe, at Nammoora gate,
I fell, and lay like a stone.
O love! thine arms were about me then,
Thy warm tears called me to life again, --
But -- O God! that I came alone! --
We dwell in peace, my beautiful one
And I, by the streams in the West, --
But oft through the mist of my dreams along
Rides Bannerman of the Dandenong,
With the blood-red rose on his breast.
poem by Alice Werner
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Jumping Horses
As you step into the arena,
Your heart rushes,
Horse following close behind,
Giving you steady nudges.
You mount yourself slowly into the English saddle
You move toward the jump.
Faster, faster.
Your feet ready in the stirrups
In jumping position,
As you grow closer to the jump
You are overcome by a weird sensation,
A sensation of happiness, nervousness, and excitement
As you post you feel the heart rate of the horse.
You are both one.
Faster, and faster still,
You feel as if you where flying,
Your horse raises its front legs,
You are flying!
Over the jump you feel relaxed,
You feel great.
You draw your horse to a slow gait,
Your heart racing.
Again and again you jump
15 minutes pass you loose time,
You slow down.
The horse’s heart is racing to the pace of yours,
You slow to a halt
Lower yourself from his back,
You pat him congratulate him,
And return the tack.
(Pause)
Jumping… Such a wonderful feeling,
Your heart rushing!
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Mothers Day2007
She hath my heart, she is my mum.
She hath my heart, she is my only, she is my one.
She hath my heart, though rough winds may blow.
She hath my heart, still her love will flow, her love will always show.
She hath my heart, I thank my lucky stars.
She hath my heart and i have hers.
She hath my heart, i long for her presence.
She hath my heart, her name is essence.
She hath my heart and forever she will.
Lifetimes will come and go, i will love her still
She hath my heart, this fact i cant conceal
Our bond is like sentiment you just cant kill
She hath my heart in times of sorrow.
She hath my heart, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
She hath my heart, my voice will sing.
She hath my heart, she makes the bell in my heart ring.
She hath my heart, in times of trouble.
She wont stumble no i will not let her crumble.
She hath my heart in each and every way
And my love for her grows with each day
She hath my heart for we were once one.
She hath my heart, the heart of the boy inside the man
I hath her heart, the heart we once shared.
Though separated in body the hearts still paired.
She hath my heart i need her near.
She hath my heart my mama dear
She hath my heart and she already knows
In a world of thorny bushes she stands out like rose
She hath my heart for she is always by my side
When the sun sets she is my light, she is my guide.
poem by Soul Child
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wish I Hated You
I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU! !
I’M CRYING OUT – CAN’T YOU HEAR ME? ! ? !
MY HEART ISN’T BROKEN… IT’S SHATTERED
YOU TOOK MY HEART AND WALKED ALL OVER IT
WITH YOUR COLD AND INCONSIDERATE WAYS
NOW, I DARE YOU – TRY TO BREAK MY HEART AGAIN
WITH YOUR SELFISH AND IMMATURE BEHAVIOR
TRY TO TEAR ME APART AGAIN, I DARE YOU
STOMP ALL OVER MY VERY EXISTANCE
YOU DID IT BEFORE. JUST DO IT AGAIN YOU TWO-FACED BOY
I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU
THESE WORDS I SO WISH I COULD SAY TO YOUR FACE
SO YOU COULD SEE THE WRECK YOU CAUSED
BUT THERE YOU GO… RIGHT PAST ME
I’M A PERSON! ! NOT A THING YOU CAN TOSS AWAY! !
YOU’RE BREAKING ME APART – STOP IT!
STOP TREATING ME LIKE THIS
COMING BACK RIGHT WHEN I’M ABOUT TO GET OVER YOU
…THEN LEAVING AGAIN! ! !
I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU
YOU CAME INTO MY LIFE AND TOOK MY HOPE
SMASHED MY DREAMS
WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT FROM ME? ! ? !
I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU
I HATE YOUR FACE THAT LURED ME IN
I HATE YOUR VOICE THAT TOLD ME SUCH LIES
I HATE YOUR HEIGHT THAT TOWERS OVER ME MAKING ME A LESSER PERSON
AND MOST OF ALL, I HATE YOUR EYES THAT LOOK RIGHT THROUGH ME
EACH TIME I COME UP TO YOU
I HATE YOUR HEARING THAT CAN’T SEEM TO HEAR ME WHEN I CALL OUT TO YOU
I HATE YOUR BRAIN THAT CAN’T SEEM TO UNDERSTAND THE PAIN I’M IN
I HATE YOUR REVOLTING THOUGHT PROCESS THAT REFUSES TO BELIEVE
I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU
I WOULD SAY I HATE YOU, BUT I THINK WE BOTH KNOW THAT IT’S NOT TRUE
I HATE THE WAY NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO, I’LL STILL BE BY YOUR SIDE
LOYAL AND SMILING THROUGH THE PAIN
poem by Nikki Taboada
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wishing I Was a Horse
I wish I could be a horse
running through endless plain
No trails and no set course
Feeling naught but wind in my mane
From the sunrise in the east
To the sunset in the west
I will run as a noble beast
While heart pounding in my chest
No man or force will ever tame me
No saddle or bridle shall I wear
As a horse I will remain free
Because as a man I feel despair
So I sit and dream about this freedom
of running through the sun and the rain
of being noble yet bound to no kingdom
As a horse with a spirit not slain
poem by Glaedr the poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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