There Are Many Who Have Left Behind This Activity
Can't you taste tomorrow's freshness?
Is it not apparent,
That which is stale.
Can no longer prevail on its present course.
And that beating a dead horse,
Will not revive a survival of that which has died.
And a flipping back through pages,
Seeking direction for which step to take.
Is not advantageous,
For those choosing to keep up with a forward pace.
Although some will continue,
With a beating of a horse done.
There are many who have left behind this activity.
With an acknowledgement that a past once lived.
Is clearly not meant for those living.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am The Stone In The Horse's Shoe
I AM THE STONE IN THE HORSE'S SHOE
I am the stone in the horse's shoe,
The unwanted present that's no longer new,
I am the garden where the grass has died
And I am the tears that I cried.
I am the crust on the side of the plate
The left-over pieces that no one ate,
I am a shell washed in with the tide,
I am the echo after you lied.
Oh I am the heart that was beating with love
For the sun and the moon and the stars above,
I was the girl with wings of a bird
The one for whom it seemed that you cared.
But now I'm the stone in the horse's shoe,
Wave me farewell and kiss me adieu.
poem by Lesley Diane Sutherland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Rum
Red Rum was pounding the turf down at Aintree,
Going as fast as any horse can be,
Ginger was there looking on at the side,
And the whole of Liverpool, filled up with pride.
For the third time now, this great horse had won,
The greatest steeplechase under the sun,
At Aintree a Horse is more likely to die,
For the third time Red Rum, the odds did defy.
Around the world the bookies all suffered,
The betting fraternity knew they weren't buffered,
To lay off a bet when the Horse is a hero,
Is not easy, so most, were left with a zero.
The ordinary punter, who fancied a flutter,
Even, the tramp, who lived life in the gutter,
Joined with the housewife who bet the housekeeping,
On the horse with the heart which always kept beating
Because they all knew Red Rum would win through.
poem by Damian Cranney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Misfit Beatings
I take a beating for my needs!
I kick myself and sit in despair.
I need a love of mine right here,
Not 'there'
Behind someone's closed doors,
Like a whore who disappears
Doing whore chores!
Seeking fresh pieces...
To admire and adore.
Then suddenly reappear?
At my door?
As if that's not clear,
A 'respect' was ignored.
I take a beating for my needs!
I close myself off...
When open I want to be.
I want to unleash this love and release,
But someone I trust must receive...
And be pleased to be with me.
Or I will go on denying,
It's pride I feel from a wounded heart!
And not from a touch I long to feed,
From depths surfacing seeking a fresh start!
Alone I groan...
And take a beating,
For my needs.
I know what I want...
But I'm not getting it with ease,
And that is upsetting.
So much so,
I have been on my knees!
I take a beating for my needs.
But sorrow does not come to share them.
I may take a beating for my needs...
Knowing what I want,
Will be what it is.
When it comes to give fulfillment,
That is complete without self deceit
To relive...
Or surrender!
And come for me with a goodness,
Meant to be.
I take a beating for my needs...
To one day taste the sweetness,
Delivered just for me!
To one day taste the sweetness,
Delivery just for me!
To one day taste the sweetness,
Delivery just for me!
I take a beating for my needs...
And in the meaning of this feeling,
Repeated it will be...
Until I have the will and strength,
To set myself finally free.
I take a beating for my needs.
I know that more and I can see.
I'm not as eager to punish,
Or as quick to accept defeat!
I take a beating for my needs,
I do!
But I do it to clean the slate...
For whoever arrives when that time comes.
To mate.
For whomever that will be,
To help me forget
The foolish things done!
To free myself finally to enjoy fun.
When that one comes and stops my urge,
To end my misfit beatings...
Inflicted with such fits!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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American Wild West: Horse Thieves
there was a time
in American history
when horse thieves
were shot or hung
robber man who stole
your horse had stolen
your life your livelihood
your means of travel
survival you were left
as good as dead without
your horse in country
where horseback was life
poem by Terence George Craddock
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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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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
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Ra Ra For Red Rocking Horse
Did you think you knew the game?
Did you think that fame and fortunes
All that I had in my head?
Bang youre dead
Its not a game Im gonna play with you
Did you think Im high and dry?
Did you think Id hide from the
Tentacles of the deaf dumb and blind
Their poison inks behind me
At the bottom of the sea
And your criticism doesnt worry me
And Ill sing
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Ride on over all remorse
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Who won the course
Despite the fact that
No one bet him
Get out
Did you think youd tie me up
Did you think that I would
Help but dance for your piece of paper
Theyll tame you and set you
To licking all the foes
Zap! pow!
Did you think that I dont feel
Did you think that Id simply heal up
After each ego beating
We cant go on meeting
This once in every year
And in the meantime if we all stand up
And cheer him up here
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Ride on over all remorse
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Who won the course
Despite the fact that
No one bet him
They all took their money out
And they laid it down, down
On the bright colored manes
They all took their money out
But they laid it down, down
On the different names to ours
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Ride on over all remorse
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Who won the course
Despite the fact that
No one bet him
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Ride on over all remorse
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Who won the course
Despite the fact
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ra Ra For Red Rocking Horse
Did you think you knew the game?
Did you think that fame and fortunes
All that I had in my head?
Bang youre dead
Its not a game Im gonna play with you
Did you think Im high and dry?
Did you think Id hide from the
Tentacles of the deaf dumb and blind
Their poison inks behind me
At the bottom of the sea
And your criticism doesnt worry me
And Ill sing
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Ride on over all remorse
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Who won the course
Despite the fact that
No one bet him
Get out
Did you think youd tie me up
Did you think that I would
Help but dance for your piece of paper
Theyll tame you and set you
To licking all the foes
Zap! pow!
Did you think that I dont feel
Did you think that Id simply heal up
After each ego beating
We cant go on meeting
This once in every year
And in the meantime if we all stand up
And cheer him up here
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Ride on over all remorse
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Who won the course
Despite the fact that
No one bet him
They all took their money out
And they laid it down, down
On the bright colored manes
They all took their money out
But they laid it down, down
On the different names to ours
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Ride on over all remorse
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Who won the course
Despite the fact that
No one bet him
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Ride on over all remorse
Ra ra for red rocking horse
Who won the course
Despite the fact
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Forgive! The Forgetting Will Come
The most difficult thing one can do,
But has proven to rid one of anxieties...
Is to forgive oneself!
With an acknowledgement of a wrong done.
Regardless of who did what first,
To anyone!
Forgive!
The forgetting will come.
Why remain embittered waiting for another,
To express remorse.
Some folks carry a hatred to their graves.
And for what reason?
To ensure the beating of a dead horse,
Has been successfully done?
Forgive!
The forgetting will come.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wind Horse
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, gentle Wind horse, you were the last of your kind.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you were running wild and free.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, with this freedom you did nothing but give;
When one called for help you carried them to safety,
No enemy did you have.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave your life one day
To a boy with no leg.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave him your endless love.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you now run in the Great Hunting Grounds;
Giving joy to those there, as you did here.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, your life was not the last gift
You gave the People.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you prayed for us, you wished a wish for us.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we remember you through your brother Horse.
Wi: yo: h … It is good.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we see you still.
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Horse Is A Horse
A horse is a horse and a man is a man
And neither can be the other
And each can survive but is much better
In the company of one another.
And while a horse is a horse and that is true
A horse is but a beast
As a cow is a cow, some ask how
On its flesh we should not feast?
For they do so in France as in other places
And I don't know how they can
For while a horse is a horse and is only a horse
It is less a cow than it is a man!
poem by Tomás Ó Cárthaigh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Past, Present, Future
i lived in the past for so long
that the present was always unknown.
now i always look ahead at all the possibilities
and there is so much, that i now see.
a shimmer of light at the end of the tunnel
and my thoughts being poured through a funnel.
the past is the past, and that's where it will stay
and in the present, we have to find a better way.
for the present will soon be our past
and if we don't do something, it will not last.
we must always look to the future
for it is only twenty four hours away
then it will be our past
and we have so much to do and say.
when i look at life, i truely have to laugh
today is our future and tomorrow it'll be our past.
now that i have you confused as to what i am
trying to say.
i guess i will try' to put it a better way'.
we all tend to procrastinate
always leaving it for tomorrow.
but! what if you don't see tomorrow.
and today you did'nt accomplish that task
how will you be remembered
if the present you left for last.
when we leave this material world
and our souls soar up in the sky
we will still have our memories
and that we can rely.
for when we get up there(if we do)
your soul will have carried all that you did
in this life
and the memories of friends, family
husband, or wife.
now when you look down on all that you had did
and asking yourself the question.
did i use my time, the way it was
meant to be?
or did i procrastinate, that others now speak of me?
we all have to work in order to survive.
but we must stop on occasion to smell the flowers.
and to enjoy all that we was given
otherwise how can you call this living.
(my thoughts: the words and stories were given to me.
so that i could write them down, for al the world to see.)
this is my philosophy.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Beating Of The Bush
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I have this 'thing' about honest and truth.
And those who become offended,
By declaring them too harsh to accept!
There has not been an experience I received,
I regretted with a wish to forget!
And those attempting to live their lives,
In pretense to deceive believing this is not deception...
Will always escape with excuses and alibis to make.
Charading as if...
No one recognizes,
Who is in masquerade.
And who amongst them fakes!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
An honesty and truth spoken,
From deceivers is rare.
Those who deceive perceive...
Those who are direct and honest,
Are insensitive and do not care!
With a sharing of this mentality...
To those empathetic,
In a keeping of delusions...
Spared from despair!
But I know I'm not the only one...
Who elects to see,
Dishonesty from all people get up and leave.
I can't be!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Temporary Guests
Many believe and perceive,
Their beliefs are to keep...
Durable as if in concrete.
To stay frozen...
And remain intact.
No matter where the times are.
With a progressing to leave,
Nonbelievers in their tracks kept back.
And with unsatisfying results,
Their limited visions are insults...
To those who have run out of patience,
And empathy for those stuck...
In ruts others have given up.
To moved on with an accepting of facts.
Or wish to do so.
Without a feeling of remorse,
To sever the ties from the ones...
Who can not seem to live their lives in stages,
On this Earth.
Or can not divorce themselves from craving,
A taste for an exclusive foreverness...
Selected for a few to feed and greed.
This,
Reality...
That has a beginning which advances to an end,
Many can not accept,
Themselves as temporary guests.
But dictators to infest a manifesting of regression.
So hopeless are those with this mindset.
Seeking with a beating of their own regrets.
So hopeless are those with this mindset.
Seeking with a beating of their own regrets.
And, so hopeless are those with this mindset.
Not understanding they are here as temporary guests.
Seeking with a beating of their own regrets.
So hopeless are those with this mindset.
Seeking with a beating of their own regrets.
And, so hopeless are those with this mindset.
Not understanding they are here as temporary guests.
So hopeless are those with this mindset.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Died
I could climb until I reach where angels reside
Ask around to find out where the junkies applied
You just up and left me on this rock all alone
Its my fault for knowing now what I should have known
Ohhhh oh oh
My heart is tired of beating slow
Ohh ohh
Its been depleating since you died
Died
Since you died
You died
I could drop until I touch the sinister side
Visit all attractions flippin back and aside
Still you leave me rotting on this rock all alone
Its my fault for knowing not what I should have known
Ohhhh oh oh
My heart is tired of beating slow
Ohh ohh
Its been depleating since you died
Died
Since you died
You died
Ohhh oh oh
My heart is tired of beating slow
Uhh ohh
Its been depleating since you died
Died
Since you died
You died
I could climb until I reach where angels reside
I could drop until I touch the sinister side
Ohhhh oh
My heart is tired of beating slow
Uhh ohh
Its been depleating since you died
Died
Since you died
You died
Died
You died
Died
You died
song performed by by Alice In Chains
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Song Of The Beating Drums We’re Never Apart
The song of the beating drums we’re never apart
Overfills a dam just like a beating flood
The beating love for a beating heart
The beating song of a beating heart
Play the song of the beating drums
The love lust of the beating blood
Always together never ever apart
The beating song of the drums
Crashing through everything
We’re here for each other
Never ever beating apart
Just like a beating heart
Our beating hearts
The Beating Song OF The Drums
The beating song of the drums
The beating song of a beating heart
The love lust of the beating blood
Overfills a dam just like a beating flood
Crashing through everything
Never ever beating apart
The beating love for a beating heart
Just like a beating heart
Always together never ever apart
We’re here for each other
Our beating hearts
Play the song of the beating drums
The song of the beating drums we’re never apart
The Glory of Man and Horse
Oh, the glory of the charge!
Man and horse to battle
Never an army too large
To stand in their way
Oh, the glory of the plains!
Man and horse to conquer
Battling wind and rains
To tame the far, far west
Oh, the glory of the sand!
Man and horse to test
Over the hot, dry land
To try their strength
Oh, the glory of the race!
Man and horse to run
Galloping a fearsome pace
To win that golden cup
poem by Horse Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet 04
A garden so well watered before morn
Is hotly up, that not the swart sun's blaze
Down beating with unmitigated rays,
Nor arid winds from scorching places borne,
Shall quite prevail to make it bare and shorn
Of its green beauty -- shall not quite prevail
That all its morning freshness shall exhale,
Till evening and the evening dews return --
A blessing such as this our hearts might reap,
The freshness of the garden they might share,
Through the long day a heavenly freshness keep,
If, knowing how the day and day's glare
Must beat upon them, we would largely steep
And water them betimes with dews of prayer.
poem by Richard Chenevix Trench
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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