Galloping Horses
Oh, this is the week when no rhymster may rhyme
On the joy of the bush or the ills of the time,
Nor pour out his soul in delectable rhythm
Of women and wine and the lure they have with 'em,
Nor pen philosophic if foolish discourses,
Because of the fury of galloping horses.
Galloping, galloping thro' the refrain -
The lure and the lilt of it beat on the brain.
Strive as you may for Arcadian Themes,
The silks and the saddles will weave thro' your dreams.
Surging, and urging the visions aside
For a lyrical lay of equestrian pride,
For the roar of the race and the call of the courses,
And galloping, galloping, galloping horses.
This is the week for the apotheosis
Of Horse in his glory, from tail to proboscis.
That curious quadrupled, proud and aloof,
That holds all the land under thrall of his hoof.
All creeds and conditions, all factions and forces,
All, all must give way to the galloping horses.
Galloping, galloping - sinner and saint
March to the metre, releasing restraint.
If it isn't the Cup it's the Oaks or the Steeple
That wraps in its magic the minds of the people.
Whether they seek it for profit or pleasure,
They all, willy-nilly, must dance to the measure.
The mood of the moment in all men endorses
The glamorous game and the galloping horses
Galloping horses - jockeys and courses
They gallop, we gallop with galloping horses.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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Galloping Days
Galloping, galloping, galloping horses
Weave thro' our dreaming in burgeoning Spring;
There's sun in our hearts and there's sun on the courses,
And paeans of hope Winter's threnody forces
Over the hill-tops; for joy is a-wing.
Joy is a-wing, and the galloping rhythm
Mingles, alack, with a ruefuller rune,
For winners may rug but the losers run with 'em,
On the galloping, galloping tune.
Galloping, galloping, galloping gladly
Round the white railing and on to the turn,
While keeping in time to it, urgently madly,
Pulses are racing, ecstatic'ly, sadly;
Eyes to the thundering eagerly yearn,
Voice, upraising, are praising, are pleading,
Mid rackets gay jackets flash by and are gone.
Then the field in the sunlight, retreating, receding,
Goes galloping, galloping, galloping on.
Galloping, galloping, galloping; streaming
Now in green distances, seeming to crawl,
Like miniatures moving, like manikins seeming,
While o'er hedge and hollow a bland sun is beaming
Casting a benison over it all.
They run to the 'Distance.' The horses! The horses!
They gallop! They gallop! They turn for the 'Straight!'
They gallop, the hoses! Who nurses remorse is
A runagate cringer to galloping Fate.
Galloping, galloping, galloping ever,
Tho' cheering is over, they gallop amain;
Tho' fact and fond fancy reluctantly sever,
The round of that ultimate, straining endeavor
Still buffets and bludgeons and beats on the brain.
They gallop - Wake up, man! What profits regaining?
Luck lurks in the offing. On, on with the dance.
Aw, tear up your ticket! The sun is still shining.
The next race is starting. Who foots it with Chance?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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Popular Scrips
If today
one is a galloping horse
to give you a fortune
tomorrow
the same may stand panting dead as an ass
as one sees a galloping scrip
we tend to feel
'ah i should have owned some of it'
strangely though
if you already own the scrip that is galloping
it is time for you to disown it
similarly strange it is
when tomorrow the same stands dead as an ass
you go all out to buy and own it
this aspect of the horse and the ass
in a popular scrip
the galloping and panting
of the popular scrips
keeps the market vibrant
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan

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Galloping Horse
Watching, in sarrow as you gallop away
in your mighty white horse to the endless shimmering sea
I can only watch so long, before breaking down to face away-
mourning the day i went wrong.
In hoping and knowing that youll return
i leave without saying a word
But i turn too soon and forever lost-you become-
in human and in thought
Now i carry such a burden as to have you-
gone from my life, my soul, and my mind
but still in hoping, and knowing that you will not return,
i wait by the sea-searching for a galloping horse
And in dreams i imagine your smile once more,
by the galloping horse
And in visions i see you, returning-
by the galloping horse.
poem by Afrodita Alkline

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Carnival Time
Now is the season of Carnival.
Who's for the sunlit course?
Who's for the beat of galloping feet
And the day and the way of the horse?
Who joins the dance, tho' Lady Chance
Pleasure or pain may yield,
Who comes to the call of Carnival?
'Seven to four the field!'
This is the week of the Carnival
And the sign of a brighter dawn
In men's affairs. Who sheds old cares
Where gay frocks fleck the lawn?
Who would forget old days of fret?
Who comes to the call of mirth
And the conquering steeds? ... They're off! Who leads?
And the hoof beats spurn the earth.
Then, Hi! for the height of Carnival,
Gayer than all gone past:
And the nameless fears of the deadening years
Forsake men's minds at last.
Bright jackets flash beneath the sun
As the roar of the crowd begins,
And lifts and swells at a great home run:
'Who leads? Who lasts? Who wins?'
Ho! for the call of Carnival!
Way for the Sport of Kings!
And men, grown sane, turn once again
To all that high hope brings.
Who's for the Carnival? Who grows gay
Where galloping Fortune speeds
Around the turn to gallop our way
With the galloping, galloping steeds?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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The Buddha in the Womb
Bobbing in the waters of the womb,
little godhead, ten toes, ten fingers
& infinite hope,
sails upside down through the world.
My bones, I know, are only a cage
for death.
Meditating, I can see my skull,
a death's head,
lit from within
by candles
which are possibly the suns
of other galaxies.
I know that death
is a movement toward light,
a happy dream
from which you are loath to awaken,
a lover left
in a country
to which you have no visa,
& I know that the horses of the spirit
are galloping, galloping, galloping
out of time
& into the moment called NOW.
Why then do I care
for this upside-down Buddha
bobbling through the world,
his toes, his fingers
alive with blood
that will only sing & die.
There is a light in my skull
& a light in his.
We meditate on our bones only
to let them blow away
with fewer regrets.
Flesh is merely a lesson.
We learn it
& pass on.
poem by Erica Jong

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Galloping Away As You Wish
When you,
Rise and shine...
With a giving up of all your sorrows,
You will...
Hop on your high horse and ride,
To gallop away as you wish.
When you,
Rise and shine...
With a giving up of all your sorrows,
You will...
Begin to travel on a path,
That leaves behind a saddened past.
You've got to feel more deserving,
To leave behind a saddened past.
You've got to get up the nerve to...
Leave behind a sadness had.
Ride high in that saddle.
And...
Don't look back.
If you wish a better life and want it to last!
All you have to do is ask.
You've got to,
Feel more deserving...
To leave behind a saddened past,
If you wish a better life to be in your hands...
Held on tightly to grasp!
When you,
Rise and shine...
With a giving up of all your sorrows,
You will...
Hop on your horse and ride,
To gallop away to a better life.
When you,
Rise and shine...
With a giving up of all your sorrows,
You will...
Begin to travel on a path,
That leaves behind a sadness had.
You've got to get up the nerve,
To leave behind a sadness past.
Ride high in that saddle,
And...
Don't dare look back!
You've got to feel deserving...
To leave behind a sadness passed,
If you wish a better life to come to you...
At last.
Saddle up on that high horse,
And let it gallop away...
From troubles you've had in your past.
And...
A better life you will have,
Today!
If you...
Ride it high,
You'll be given a momentum lift!
Saddle up on that horse and let it,
Gallop away...
To where you wish.
Gallop away...
To where you wish.
Forget about those troubles that you've have had in the past,
And...
Gallop away to where you wish.
Gallop away to where you wish.
Forget about those troubles that you've have had in the past,
And...
Gallop away to where you wish.
Gallop away to where you wish.
With a galloping away as you wish.
Humming with a hmmm.
And...
Galloping away as you wish.
Humming with a hmmm hmmm.
And...
Galloping away as you wish.
Humming with a hmmm.
And...
Galloping away as you wish.
Humming with a hmmm hmmm.
And...
Galloping away as you wish.
Galloping away as you wish.
Galloping away as you wish.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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I looked over and saw this man on the extreme right aisle sort of galloping to the podium. He was tall, he was thin, and the way he was galloping it looked as though he was going someplace much more important than the podium.
quote by Betty Shabazz

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Argentna
Argentina.
When I got up and looked out of the window the village was
floating on a cloud. I walked to where the cloud ended and
saw the pampas of Argentine and horses galloping in a circle
around a dead cypress. The horses looked tired and starved,
but could not stop their senseless galloping around the tree.
There were also many dead foals trampled down in the dust.
I was in Buenos Aires once, remember a great ballroom and
a big marble staircase I saw the dictator’s wife walk down it.
She was dressed in white and striking at a distance, but close
up she looked hollow eyed and her skin was yellow. A band
played wiener waltzes, officers and their women danced with
decorum. It was only when thousand guitars struck up a cord,
music born from paucity and dreams to break free and flee,
the dictator’s lady smiled and looked young again.
poem by Oskar Hansen

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Heaven Tonight
Here comes a sign in the form of a girl
Shes the finest, sweetest thing in the world
Oh, take you to heaven tonight
I feel the horses coming galloping
In the summers end
Take you to heaven tonight
Oh, because I love you
For what you are
Ill gallop to you
Tonight, tonight I will ride
Ill give it to you
Well go to heaven tonight
Tonight
I dont know why ?
Oh baby, I was heading for heaven tonight
Ill go to heaven tonight
I feel the horses coming galloping
Ill never grow old, Ill go to heaven tonight
Because I love you
For what you are
Ill gallop to you
Tonight, tonight I will ride
Ill bow down to you
Well go to heaven tonight
Tonight
I cant believe that I could be happy
Summer will come again, I could be happy
Oh, stop your crying, you could be happy
Go to heaven when you make me happy
Here comes a kiss that I never had
Nothing feels like this, headed to heaven tonight
I love you
Here comes a storm in the form of a girl
Shes the finest, sweetest thing in the world
Oh, Ill go to heaven tonight
For what you are
Ill gallop to you
Tonight, tonight I will ride
Ill bow down to you
Well go to heaven tonight
Tonight
song performed by by Hole

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dream Horse II (Revised)
Galloping, galloping in the night sky,
a pale dream horse and his dream herd float by.
There's no sound from their hooves,
There's no pound of their hearts,
as silently, soundlessly they waft
through the dark.
The moon was a chalis brimming with light,
when I first looked up and witnessed
their flight.
In a swirl of mother-of-pearl stardust they rode
and freedom of spirit was their only load.
Dream Horse, you are made of dream dust.
You rear on your hind legs,
and paw at the sky.
On earth you were a sight to stun the eye.
Ah, but now you are old or without a home.
There is money to be made, and Hearts run cold.
There are those that lie to sell your bones,
No matter how many weep or how many moan!
They say on this planet there is no grace,
for you and your wild herds,
there's not enough space.
but in endless eternity you've found a place.
So ride, Dream Horse, ride. Whirl by
with your dream herd,
through the vast incandescence of night!
There's no friction of resistance
in their noisless race
as swiftly they slip through rimless space.
Author's Comments:
'I was deeply shocked to learn of our horses being sold to foreign countries for food. According to articles owners were told they were going to retirement pastures or mercifully euthanized. Proposition 6, Save the Horses and http.//Save the Horses.com make fascinating reading.
poem by Mary Naylor

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Dream Hoese II (Revised)
Galloping, galloping in the night sky,
a pale dream horse and his dream herd float by.
There's no sound from their hooves,
There's no pound of their hearts,
as silently, soundlessly they waft
through the dark.
The moon was a chalis brimming with light,
when I first looked up and witnessed
their flight.
In a swirl of mother-of-pearl stardust they rode
and freedom of spirit was their only load.
Dream Horse, you are made of dream dust.
You rear on your hind legs,
and paw at the sky.
On earth you were a sight to stun the eye.
Ah, but now you are old or without a home.
There is money to be made, and Hearts run cold.
There are those that lie to sell your bones,
No matter how many weep or how many moan!
They say on this planet there is no grace,
for you and your wild herds,
there's not enough space.
but in endless eternity you've found a place.
So ride, Dream Horse, ride. Whirl by
with your dream herd,
through the vast incandescence of night!
There's no friction of resistance
in their noisless race
as swiftly they slip through rimless space.
Author's Comments:
'I was deeply shocked to learn of our horses being sold to foreign countries for food. According to articles owners were told they were going to retirement pastures or mercifully euthanized. Proposition 6, Save the Horses and http.//Save the Horses.com make fascinating reading.
poem by Mary Naylor

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Some Other Somebody
Somebody's horse has finished his feed,
Somebody's saddle is on;
But never a nigger the tracks can read,
Or know where Somebody's gone.
Over the rails and up the creek,
As soon as the sun goes down:
How is it every night this week
That Somebody's off to town?
Grass is dewy, and overhead
Evening stars are bright;
And startled wallabies hear the tread
Of galloping hoofs at night.
Through the scrub and over the plain
Somebody's galloping fast;
Never a pull on the bridle rein
Till the town lights show at last.
Somebody's horse has whips o' work -
Whips o' work of late -
Since Somebody's brown was seen in town
Tied to Somebody's gate.
But the wherefore why Somebody rides,
And the track that the brown horse goes,
Only his rider (and one besides:
Some other Somebody) knows!
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant

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In Fury
Empty hope!
In fury,
Of the wicked;
Like false dreams! !
To err,
Enticing to sin;
Fury, bury!
With worthless gods and goddesses.
Seed, feed!
Completely;
Emptied!
Like a transgressor;
Treacherously!
Dishonour,
Entice,
Cost, lost! !
Jollying,
Brandishes;
Cracking!
But, galloping like horses.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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At Galway Races
THERE where the course is,
Delight makes all of the one mind,
The riders upon the galloping horses,
The crowd that closes in behind:
We, too, had good attendance once,
Hearers and hearteners of the work;
Aye, horsemen for companions,
Before the merchant and the clerk
Breathed on the world with timid breath.
Sing on: somewhere at some new moon,
We'll learn that sleeping is not death,
Hearing the whole earth change its tune,
Its flesh being wild, and it again
Crying aloud as the racecourse is,
And we find hearteners among men
That ride upon horses.
poem by William Butler Yeats

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Silverstern
Your love is like galloping hooves of strong horses,
And your love is like a wealthy nation that dwells at ease;
But i will show you the way to Zion,
So be at rest with your youth.
Be like the rose on the grave stone and,
Be like the wine that has settled on its dregs;
For i am Silverstern and,
I am like a jumper in the wilderness of love!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Dreaming The Breasts
Mother,
strange goddess face
above my milk home,
that delicate asylum,
I ate you up.
All my need took
you down like a meal.
What you gave
I remember in a dream:
the freckled arms binding me,
the laugh somewhere over my woolly hat,
the blood fingers tying my shoe,
the breasts hanging like two bats
and then darting at me,
bending me down.
The breasts I knew at midnight
beat like the sea in me now.
Mother, I put bees in my mouth
to keep from eating
yet it did no good.
In the end they cut off your breasts
and milk poured from them
into the surgeon's hand
and he embraced them.
I took them from him
and planted them.
I have put a padlock
on you, Mother, dear dead human,
so that your great bells,
those dear white ponies,
can go galloping, galloping,
wherever you are.
poem by Anne Sexton

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Embodied Encapsulations
Life encapsulates transmutes
enslaves air breathed creatively...
transmutes oxidizes grey clay
particles dance Newton’s waltz.
Who can stop tame wild horses
galloping within mind soul sung...
grey clay excited energized activated
string theory dances variant steps.
Hoof beats echo drum
infuse through fibres being.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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The Call
Hark! 'tis the rush of the horses,
The crash of the galloping gun!
The stars are out of their courses;
The hour of Doom has begun.
Leap from thy scabbard, O sword!
Leap! 'Tis the Day of the Lord!
Prate not of peace any longer,
Laughter and idlesse and ease!
Up, every man that is stronger!
Leave but the priest on his knees!
Quick, every hand to the hilt!
Who striketh not—his the guilt!
Call not each man on his brother!
Cry not to Heaven to save!
Thou art the man—not another—
Thou, to off glove and out glaive!
Fight, ye who ne'er fought before!
Fight, ye old fighting-men more!
poem by Francis William Bourdillon

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Dream Horse
Galloping, galloping in the night sky,
a pale dream horse and his dream herd float by.
There's no sound from their hooves,
There's no pound of their hearts,
as silently, soundlessly, they waft through the dark.
The moon was a chalice brimming with light,
when I first looked up and witnessed their flight.
In a swirl of mother-of-pearl stardust they rode,
and freedom of spirit was their only load.
Dream Horse, you are made of dream dust.
You rear on your hind legs and paw at the sky.
On earth you were a sight to stun the eye.
They say on this planet there is no grace
for you and your wild herds-there's not enough space,
but in endless eternity you've found a place.
So ride, Dream Horse, ride. Whirl by with your
dream herd, through the vast, incandescence of night!
There's no friction or resistance in their noiseless race,
as swiftly they slip through rimless space.
poem by Mary Naylor

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