The Raconteur tells about the Election
A Zealot has painted his stubborn mule black & white stripes.
And then the mule became a Zebra.
This idiot wants to enrol his pet to the coming race.
Early in the morning he goes to the racecourse with his Zebra for practice.
There are no any restrictions it seems
Donkeys, mules, ponies, zebras and dogs all are allowed for the annual rat race?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Election set a trend
Despite dismal performances,
The mule has been reelected
By the mixed population
Of horses and mules in the stable.
The whole mules voted for the mule.
The opponent horse lost the race.
The horses divided themselves
And voted on ideology.
The victory of the mule is
Due more to the racial backing
Than to the performance reckoning,
An ugly trend set for the first time.
08.11.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Me And The Mule
My old mule,
He's gota grin on his face.
He's been a mule so long
He's forgotten about his race.
I'm like that old mule --
Black -- and don't give a damn!
You got to take me
Like I am.
poem by Langston Hughes
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Our life looks like a zibra
Our life looks like a zebra,
sometimes black stripes,
sometimes white.
The black stripes
take turn of the white,
like day and night.
And sometimes
our life zebra kicks
making it's own tricks.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zebra Child
I’m not black
I’m not white
I’m a Zebra Child.
My father skin is fare like a pinkish cloud.
My mother skin is dark like coco.
My skin is both swirled into a light caramel color.
I’m not black
I’m not white
I’m a Zebra Child.
My eyes are hazel with a hint of blue.
My hair is kinky yet manageable.
While I have African hips
I also have European lips.
I’m not black
I’m not white
I’m a Zebra Child.
I relish my difference
Although some times
I envy others similarity.
But I am what I am.
I’m not black
I’m not white
I’m a Zebra Child.
Y..... Zebra
Zebra goes to drink
Crocodile jumps
Zebra escapes
Zebra tells son
Not to drink
At that lake
Son goes anyhow
Nothing happens
Son zebra returns
Son thinks
father zebra
does not make sense
Son goes again and again
Son convinced father is wrong
Until one day….
poem by Aufie Zophy
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Who does she think she is....
I asked the Zebra:
Are you black with white stripes?
Or white with black stripes?
And the zebra asked me:
Are you good with bad habits?
Or are you bad with good habits?
Are you noisy with quiet times?
Or are you quiet with noisy times?
Are you happy with some sad days?
Or are you sad with some happy days?
Are you neat with some sloppy ways?
Or are you sloppy with some neat ways?
And on and on and on and on
And on and on he went.
I’ll never ask a zebra
About stripes
Again
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Stubborn
Stubborn, stubborn
He was stubborn as a mule.
He refused to budge
in the world so cruel.
'Cause what good would it do,
one step or two?
It would get him nowhere
'cause the word's so cruel.
Stubborn, stubborn.
He was stubborn as a mule.
His eyes were defiant
with fire and fuel.
He'd been born into pain
where no one had cared.
He was alone in the world
but never was he scared.
He was just stubborn.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Zebra
From Africa is the zebra.
Nowhere else does it roam
Innately, wild and free—
But in Africa, its home.
It feasts with the wildebeest,
And migrates with the same—
Steering clear of lions there,
Which sees it as fair game.
But, oh, the lovely zebra
With its stripes unique,
Brings a certain flair to life.
‘Tis nature's own mystique.
poem by Walterrean Salley
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A Zebra Visit
f you’ve ever had a visit with a Zebra
It’s an animal that stands on its own
For there is nothing at all quite like it
As it nestles inside of its home
The markings are each one unique
For there are never two of the same
Although usually wild in other countries
They can sometimes be nice and quite tame
I was privileged to visit this huge barn
Where Clydesdales have their stalls
But imagine a Zebra in the midst
Standing so beautiful and so tall
Horses and Zebra’s are not exactly alike
And sizes can be very different too
The markings are so fascinating
Some seem to sit rather askew
So if you’re lucky and meet one
An animal that is truly exquisite
You will never ever forget it
To be able to have a Zebra visit!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Nature Has Her Rule
A donkey and a horse
made a mule
a mule and a mule
would'nt make one
could'nt do so
nature has her rule
she would play her cards well
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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The Charge Of The Mule Brigade
Half a mile, half a mile,
Half a mile onward,
Right through the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
'Forward the Mule Brigade!
Charge for the Rebs,' they neighed.
Straight for the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
'Forward the Mule Brigade!'
Was there a mule dismayed?
Not when their long ears felt
All their ropes sundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to make Rebs fly.
On! to the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
Mules to the right of them,
Mules to the left of them,
Mules behind them
Pawed, neighed, and thundered.
Breaking their own confines
Breaking through Longstreet's lines
Into the Georgia troops
Stormed the two hundred.
Wild all their eyes did glare,
Whisked all their tails in air
Scattering the chivalry there,
While all the world wondered.
Not a mule back bestraddled,
Yet how they all skedaddled -
Fled every Georgian,
Unsabred, unsaddled,
Scattered and sundered!
How they were routed there
By the two hundred!
Mules to the right of them,
Mules to the left of them,
Mules behind them
Pawed, neighed, and thundered;
Followed by hoof and head
Full many a hero fled,
Fain in the last ditch dead,
Back from an ass's jaw
All that was left of them, -
Left by the two hundred.
When can their glory fade?
Oh, what a wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Mule Brigade,
Long-eared two hundred!
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Zebra World (Not Animal Related)
The world is still going on about the color of others skin
We need to be more like a zebra a mixture of black and white
So much racism
Hard to walk down the street without seeing a racial war
I can't take this s**t anymore
Who cares if your black, white, or even asian
We all function the same
I don't know where this started, and I don't know who to blame
Someone tell me why we fire upon each other
So what if blacks were slaves many years ago
Don't blame whites for there ancestors mistakes
Now white people stop looking at skin color
See who they are on the inside
We are no different
Its time to end this stupid fighting
Now its time for peace
Lets all work together
In creating this zebra world.
poem by Kevin Fisher
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Mule Skinner Blues
Well good morning captain
Good morning to you sir
Hey hey yeah
Do you need another mule skinner
Down on your new mud run
Hey hey yeah
Yodel-a-ee-he-he
He-he-he-he-he-he
Well Im a lady mule skinner
From down old tennessee way
Hey hey I come from tennessee
I can make any mule listen
Or I wont accept your pay
Hey hey I wont take your pay
Yodel-a-ee-he-he
He-he-he-he-he-he
Well hey hey little waterboy
Wont you bring your water round
Hey hey
If you dont like your job
Well you can throw your bucket down
Throw it down boy, throw it down
Yodel-a-ee-he-he
He-he-he-he-he-he
Well Ive been working down in georgia
At a greasy spoon caf?
Hey that lovely joint
Just to let a no good man
Call every cent of my pay
Hey hey and Im sick of it
And wanna be a mule skinner
Yodel-a-ee-he-he
He-he-he-he-he-he
Yodel-a-ee-he-he
He-he-he-he-he-he
Mule skinner blues
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Give The Mule What He Wants
Mule want it
Mule want it Sunday
He'll eat it
He'll eat it in one day
How long...do I wait
Be the mule that you gotta be
Underwater
Underwater one day
Gonna sink it and make 'em think it's too late
For your love...for your love
Be the mule that you gotta be
song performed by by Queens Of The Stone Age from Queens Of The Stone Age
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ye Old Mule
Ye old mule that think yourself so fair,
Leave off with craft your beauty to repair,
For it is true, without any fable,
No man setteth more by riding in your saddle.
Too much travail so do your train appair.
Ye old mule
With false savour though you deceive th'air,
Whoso taste you shall well perceive your lair
Savoureth somewhat of a Kappurs stable.
Ye old mule
Ye must now serve to market and to fair,
All for the burden, for panniers a pair.
For since gray hairs been powdered in your sable,
The thing ye seek for, you must yourself enable
To purchase it by payment and by prayer,
Ye old mule.
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
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High Spirits
High spirits made the zebra leap,
For joy within his soul
Was something precious he could keep,
If he let slip control...
Within a crowd, where he felt safe,
No tension spoilt his day...
And in these moments, living faith
Cast all his doubts away...
Now like a child, he kicked up dust!
His front legs rode thin air!
Safety in numbers caused such trust,
So he shook off each care!
The zebras laughed like zebras do...
They cackled one-by-one...
Although this wasn't something new,
Unshackled fears brought fun!
Some others copied what he did!
Like each of them agreed...
With joy of life no longer hid,
Their joy was joy indeed!
If only we could imitate
The zebra now and then,
We'd learn life's here to celebrate,
For death comes, who knows when?
It's why we often hum a tune
With half-remembered words...
Or stare at stars beyond the moon
Or whistle back at birds...
High spirits come and go, my friend...
It's not as if they're planned...
But when they come, on this depend,
You'll love Love's Wonderland!
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'High Spirits'.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Ye Old Mule
Ye old mule that think yourself so fair,
Leave off with craft your beauty to repair,
For it is true, without any fable,
No man setteth more by riding in your saddle.
Too much travail so do your train appair.
Ye old mule
With false savour though you deceive th'air,
Whoso taste you shall well perceive your lair
Savoureth somewhat of a Kappurs stable.
Ye old mule
Ye must now serve to market and to fair,
All for the burden, for panniers a pair.
For since gray hairs been powdered in your sable,
The thing ye seek for, you must yourself enable
To purchase it by payment and by prayer,
Ye old mule.
poem by David McKee Wright
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Scent Of Mule
Kitty Malone sat on a mule
Was riding in style
When suddenly, like the sound of a buzzard's breaking
Kity felt laser beams being fired at her head
She said, "I hate laser beams
And you never done see me askin'
For a UFO
In Tomahawk County"
Well she kicked the mule
And it walked the path
And the aliens fired from behind
Till she stopped the mule
And she kicked the rump
And the big old mule took a big old dump
Scent of a mule, you better watch out where you go
Take your laser beams away
Scent of a mule, you better watch out where you go
You better stop that laser game
Or you'll smell my mule
She felt the fire against her neck
And it saddened her to feel it burn
When suddenly, like the sound of a breeding Holstein
Kitty said, "Stop, we ain't lookin' for fightin'
In Tomahawk County."
A little guy from the UFO
Came on out and said his name was Joe
She said, "Come on over for some lemonade
Just follow me now with the whole brigade"
Chorus
They walked into her cabin shack
They had never seen a southern home
And they liked it, better than their UFO
They liked it, they really liked it
They said, "Here's a place of elegance
Here we shower ourselves in lightness"
Chorus
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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