Nightly visitor
While I dreamed last night
I suddenly awaked
and through the window in the moon
saw a grey horse snort at the fountain
and fire glowed in that animal’s eyes.
A woman that’s really beautiful
and white, rigid and merciless
glided out of the saddle
and around me every thing was deadly silent
and the look in her dark eyes
cut right through me
without any life.
I still wanted to ask her
how she got to stand so suddenly
next to me, but she already walked
right through the walls and were gone.
l’Envoi
Next door where the wasted away woman
that had AIDS lived
I heard half chocked
a last rattling cough,
before horse hoofs
hit sparks out of the tar road
and the white women
rode away in haste.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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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
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At a pan at night
In the dark night I hear horse hoofs
coming on thundering
and there are sparks
bursting from the quartz rocks.
In the sky
there’s a sickle moon
and the hairs
on my arms raise
while blue thunder
fall like shots around me
and I can smell fire and sulphur
on the wind.
For a moment
while a church bell
rings of midnight in the distance,
there’s a horse standing neighing
on its back feet.
Just one look
frightens me past being awake
when another lightning bolt
strikes down next to us
and a horse
with a man without head
passes me at great speed.
In the distance at a ruin
I see an old woman in white
with a shrill voice
cutting through the night.
“Can nothing stop you
Jan van der Meer? ”
[Reference: Die ruiter van skimmelperdpan by A.G. Visser. A legend from the second Anglo-Boer war.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Dark Man
I was in deep, profound sleep,
Suddenly, I heard a quick knock.
I got up and rubbed my eyes.
And oh! it was a great shock!
In thin darkness, I saw a horse-rider,
stood near my semi-dark door.
Who are you and whom do you come for?
'I came crossing the ocean's shore,
to take you there, to king's court.'
The thunderbolt voice replied, then.
Out of sheer fear, I reclined to go.
'I'm at my days end, nothing to gain-'
Told I but, no reply from his end came.
He turned back, and signaled to follow.
Mesmerized I leaving everything
rode on the horse, and bore the wallop.
How long the horse galloped,
I could not tell you all...
The night fell to days lap,
and at last the waning moon did fall.
I heard the sound of ocean's tide,
stopped the horse on its coast!
We, got down from the horse's back-
I saw his mouth's part most.
He was death, and none else,
the dark man took my hand...
A boat came, sailed us away from
the shore lagging behind dust and sand
poem by Nilakshi Das
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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
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* * *
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
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At Her Door
OPEN! Open! Open!
I am here at your door outside;
The sea's blue tide flows speedily,
And ebbs a thin red tide.'
The woman rose from her warm white bed,
Threw back her hair and smiled;
The ears of scorn heard the words of love,
And the wind and the words were wild.
'Wake! Awake! Awake!
And hearken the woe outside;
The moon is hid in cloudiness;
Calleth and calleth the tide.'
The woman stood in the silence still
As a thing men carve from stone.
Her eyes burned largely in the dark,
And the smile, like a stain, stayed on.
'Listen! Listen! Listen!
Hear you the rain to-night?
A warm dark rain is falling too,
And I grow ghostly-white.'
The woman took three steps and bowed;
The smile waned from her lip;
She heard the dripping of the rain
And a soft thick other drip.
'Open! Open! Open!
I die in the dark alone.
My voice goes up in weariness
Against your heart of stone.'
The moon to a cloud-cleft stealing
Gazed down on the yearning tide;
The woman opened the streaming door
And stood in the rain outside.
Silence! Stillness! She whispers,
'Ah, Love, that death should be!'
He sighed, 'Your lips are loveliness!'
And she sobbed, 'Woe is me!'
The woman pressed his dead white face
With her face as deadly white:
The moon drew in behind a cloud,
And the tide moaned through the night.
poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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The White Horse...
on that early dawn
they arrived. I will not tell you
exactly how many were they.
they brought the wild horse again
this time it is white and coy
they did not speak to me
my attention was focused on the
beautiful horse
i did not show that i liked it
i did not talk too
then they brought the horse inside
the house
and then the windows and doors
were closed
and then the white horse started to
dance
and i liked it more
it was then that i realized
what are they really
and why are they here bringing me
a beautiful white horse
will they take my antique chairs
made of rosewood?
will i bargain my house
for a horse?
just for a horse
and they whose names i do not really know
shall laugh
after they had finally taken the whole of what i have
just for a white horse whose talent is just
to dance?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The moment that the sun disappeared into the sea
The moment that the sun disappeared into the sea
church bells were ringing in the distance,
while I found you alone on the beach
with a seagull with a broken wing.
With streaming tears you could hardly breathe,
to me you were really beautiful
when the wind whirled, were blowing through your hair
and with the poor bird you glance was rigid
while we walked along the white beach
the waterline was glistening
with the orange-red of the last sun
the bird in your hands were suddenly lifeless
and immediately the night was dark,
for the bird we did what we could.
When my eyes caught yours at Hartenbos
the see foamed blue, alive behind us,
I felt my heart bounding suddenly somewhat anxious,
there was something intimate and magical present,
while I saw stars in your eyes
without deserving them.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Friesian Rider
As if a sunrise
I woke up to a view
Hurdles of horses gliding smoothly
Their legs extended and tails flapping
And as I blossom in a red attitude
Clouds darken the view from my eyes
Suddenly a white horse appears
And my eyes wonder
The land mocks at me
And I try to blend as its rider
But the white horse springs away
Into the dark doom
Away from the Ark
And I'm saved from the wasteland
And as the night goes down, goes down
I wake up on a golden land
To me a wild black horse glazes
He can only be ridden by royalty
I open my eyes in amazement
He blows dragonish flames through his nostrils
He is so glossy and
Oh! Is he the one! !
He crooks his forelegs in pride
The earth echoes his galloping
A giant Friesian must be coming
At last he rushes to me
And tramples the gold sand
Stretching my hands to embrace
New horizons we foresee
And we fuse together as one
We ride, we ride
Inspired by our fervent
Our valiant stride
Onto our dreams
We fling silver hello from star to star
My Friesian horse breaks fire underfoot
We reach the shores of our wildest dreams
If two is one then we.
poem by Mira Hafsi
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Bare-Back Rider (A Lucid Dream)
He was a stallion
A big black horse, I was
Astride his back, muscular, bare
Hanging on to mere tufts
of his shiny black hair
I don’t know how I got there
It seemed like a dream
Me on this big horse galloping
through a dark forest thick with trees
with gnarly branches reaching for me
Terrified I crouch as low as I can
Try to grip the horse’s flesh
but I couldn't so I hold on
to his mane for dear life
and with a prayer I close my eyes
Don’t throw me off
Don’t let this forest take me
Don't leave me here
This nightmare will devour me
Please go slow dear horse
Don't stumble and fall
Be careful of the rocks
And branches hanging low
But he would not go slow, oh no!
He was on a mission
To where I didn’t know
I had no choice but to hold on
Clinging for my life
Praying the branches won’t
Hit him in the eyes
So I stay there like that, eyes shut
My body as close to to his as I could get
My face pressed to his neck
I cry, wracked with fear
Certain I would die right there
After a while, after what seemed like ages
And nothing happening
Only the sound of hoofs
and the wind whipping
I suddenly realize...
This horse is bigger than me
If the branches don’t hit him
How can they hit me
He is not afraid of the dark
If he's not afraid of dying
Why should I be
Slowly I sit upright
Slowly I open my eyes
The scenery had changed
The rider and the horse are now
One and the same
poem by Sonya Florentino
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Scent Of A Woman
Now woman...scent of a woman
a man don't add up to much, next to a woman
a man can't ever forget the taste of a woman
a man is half the test, a man is half the best
a man can't understand the reasons why
a man's just a day in the life of a woman
just a few mintues a night to a woman
see what a woman can do
to the man inside of you
it's more than the sum of the sun and the moon
well a man is a man is a hell of a man
a man ain't a man in a one night stand
a man just don't stack up next to a woman
a man can't see what a woman can do
a man is no man hiding next to you
a man don't add up to much next to a woman
oohhh...the scent of a woman
the world would never be, except for a woman
it's hard for a man to see what makes a woman
even harder to impress, cause she expects the best
she never makes it easy to pass the test
well a man is a man is a hell of a man
a man ain't a man in a one night stand
a man just won't stack up next to a woman
a man can't do what a woman can do
a man is not a man lying next to you
and man will just give up next to a woman
oh yeah....here she comes now (here she comes now, she comes now, here she comes now)
here she comes now (here she comes now, she comes now, here she comes now)
well a man is a man is a hell of a man
a man ain't a man in a one night stand
a man just won't stack up next to a woman
a man can't do what a woman can do
a man is a man if he can get to you
all a man wants to do is get to a woman, yeah
yeah yeah x 16
yeah...the scent of a woman
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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When Angels Kiss...
The dark clouds turned into a brighter white,
And the moon it shone with a brighter light.
The flowers of life stand tall once again,
From this world is vanquished all of lifes pain...
An angel stared at me with eyes of love,
Looking down upon me from high above.
I'm mesmerised by those emerald eyes,
I look deep inside to where love lies...
My love approached, eyes down to the ground,
My heart it pumped with a roaring sound.
My smiling heart said what no one could say,
I breathed in every essence of this beautiful day...
And when my Angel uttered, 'I love you, '
Dark black skies turned into sapphire blue.
The bleak grey clouds turned into white,
And the moon it shone a brighter light...
Winters snow it melted and flowed,
The night passed and the sun it glowed.
All of this the world just could not miss,
For it happens only when angels kiss...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Tight Lipped
tight lipped
a bud
opens
a little mouth
a petal
and sighs
then
you smell
the scent
of a rose
a woman
and comes
a man
the wind
swallowing
a petal
a woman
in his arms
away
to the dark
night
like
a horse
you hear
sounds
of hoofs
and
yes
i hear
it too
the moans
the moon
and
the shadows
of the bud
in full
bloom
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Deed Done.
The old woman
was lying
on the path
from her
ground floor flat
along Harper Road
when you and Helen
walked by
on your way
from the shop
with your penny drinks
you both ran to her
and she said she'd fallen
so Helen
ran across
to the surgery
on the other side
of the road
while you knelt
by the woman
placing your
short sleeved pullover
under her head
you're a good boy
she said
but you'll have blood on it now
don't matter
you said
you stroked her head
and pushed
her grey hair
out of her white blue eyes
when Helen returned
with a doctor
he examined
the old woman
and said
he had called
an ambulance
Helen stood
next to you
her eyes tearful
her hand
touching yours
the woman said
thank you both
I don't know
what I'd have done
if you hadn't come along
it's the least we could do
Helen said
you waited
until the ambulance came
and took her away
and disappeared
off along Harper Road
look at your pullover
Helen said
it's got blood on it
don't matter
gives it colour
you replied
anyway Mum'll wash it out
she gazed at you
through her thick lens
her eyes awash
with tears
her small hand
still in yours
the path
from the old lady's flat
had a small stain
of dark red
where blood had seeped
where she'd laid her head
a bit like an abstract
pavement artist's work
you said
the white stone canvas
with that touch of red.
poem by Terry Collett
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Horse
What does the horse give you
That I cannot give you?
I watch you when you are alone,
When you ride into the field behind the dairy,
Your hands buried in the mare's
Dark mane.
Then I know what lies behind your silence:
Scorn, hatred of me, of marriage. Still,
You want me to touch you; you cry out
As brides cry, but when I look at you I see
There are no children in your body.
Then what is there?
Nothing, I think. Only haste
To die before I die.
In a dream, I watched you ride the horse
Over the dry fields and then
Dismount: you two walked together;
In the dark, you had no shadows.
But I felt them coming toward me
Since at night they go anywhere,
They are their own masters.
Look at me. You think I don't understand?
What is the animal
If not passage out of this life?
poem by Louise Gluck
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Shadowy nocturne
It is midsummer,
and the nights are hot.
Black horse is strolling along the lake,
trying to delve into another world.
Black horse is rather sad tonight,
the white horse is not following behind,
no one chats with it,
no one plays with it,
only its shadow follows it.
It stops.
looking at the lake quietly.
The moon,
falling on water,
makes it white, inscrutable,
giving the shadow a burnish and a silver plating.
The black horse,
it can not spend its life chasing after shadow,
no matter it is an anguish or elation,
it must have a brave act,
telling the white horse what you feel.
(17th of August,2004)
poem by Trino Chan
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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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