Unthreatened Dark horse
Unthreatened
Dark horse,
Ten o’clock in the line of fire
At the cutting edge
When all's said and done
Around the corner schoolyard
Under the trees
In the twinkling of an eye
Laughing and joking
While sleeping
Full of joie de vivre,
A lot of fun,
Close the eyes to
It appears that
From head to foot
Whiffed-waffle
Unthreatened
Dark horse,
Prasetya Utama
Bogor
Rabu,22 Februari 2006
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Related quotes
Eartquake (1)
(1)
Though I converge yesterday
Now I want to meet you again
To see you is face long lasting
Under the pteromax lamps
Until your father and mothers
Came from markets
Selling the batiste
Till dinner
Till time to learn come
Till your father come
Ask about our school lesson
Till time to sleep come
I went to my home
Ride bicycle
Across the cold night
Across the whole black
Trees
Around me
Till
I knock the door
When my mother
Still wait and open the door
For me
But now I found empty
No life after earthquake
(Prasetya Utama, Ciluar Bogor,8/15/2006)
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Dream Child
since childhood
I used to dream
can ride a horse around town
handsome white horse
turban on his head
robe and sword at his waist
accompanied by a beautiful girl sauntered
who always smiled
that made my heart-flowered
life is beautiful, full of dreams
when there is an expectation
faraway
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Happy Birthday
When twilight came
I saw the grey cloud is spooling
Is spooling fly
touch toThe Vermillion sky
The street lamp pole run away
The black green trees run away
Behind me
From behind the window glass
when the bus is runing very fast
The mercury lamp is blazing yellowish
blazing of the people lamp
all run away behind me
when the bus is run very fast forward
among the sedan and another bus
touch to the Vermillion sky
going run to touch our home
betwen Magrib to Isya
promised
to come around sun down
on her birthday
hurry to meet and kiss her foreheads
wishpering her to happy birthday
she cooks spagetti
from morning
Preparing herself birthday
Fortytwo and threeyyears
At March 06,
Prasetya Utama, Bogor,2006-03-09
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Lizard Fall
lizard fall
above my head
when we
sit both
in sittingroom
that night
her ters dropp
roles on her cheek
hue
befalled by a light
full moon moonlight
its head
bowing
drawn
when
I told her
my father die
this afternoon
Prasetya Utama, Tuesday, May 13,2008
poem by Prasetya Utama
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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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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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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
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Dark Horse
You thought that you knew where I was and when
But it looks like theyve been foolin you again,
You thought that youd got me all steaked out
But baby looks like Ive been breaking out
Im a dark horse
Running on a dark race course
Im a blue moon
Since I stepped from out of the womb
Ive been a cool jerk
Looking for the source
Im a dark horse.
You thought you had got me in your grip
Baby looks like you was not so smart
And I became too slippery for you
But let me say that was nothing new.
Im a dark horse
Running on a dark race course
Im a blue moon
Since I picked up my first spoon
Ive been a cool jerk
Looking for the source
Im a dark horse
I thought that you knew it all along
Until you started getting me not right
Seems as if you heared a little late
But I warned you when
We both were at the starting gate
Im a dark horse
Running on a dark race course
Im a blue moon
Since I stepped from out of the womb
Ive been a cool jerk
Cooking at the source
Im a dark horse.
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Regret
Regret comes after
When I sat
On Bamboo Chair
Under Mango Tree
Felt my soul not free
Had detained out of our desire
Rose flower on a pot
Release softly perfume
In the windy air
Hide in smelt softly
Of sins
My soul could not slept
Along the day in a time, wrest
When the women sat
Beside me
Red news
Got a new
Gossip
Jakarta, Thursday, March 16,2006
Prasetya Utama
poem by Prasetya Utama
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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
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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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Sonnet: Piggy-back Ride
Yes, children enjoy a piggy-back ride!
The father as horse and mother beside;
The thrilled little ones just simply enjoy,
And mock at the horse while laughing with joy.
Giddap! Giddap! They goad the horse faster;
Today, they are the jockey and the master!
And then the horse must dance well to their tune,
Slowly, gracefully and speed up too, soon.
Sometimes, the horse is just compelled to neigh!
Shaking its head for the entire day;
No doubt, the act gets troublesome indeed;
Until taken to the ‘stable’ to feed.
At times, children can the wildest horse tame!
But, condescension’s, the key to the game.
poem by John Celes
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My Father’s Son
Once
when I was still a baby boy
obsessed, thrilled with dark night sky
father said, shut your eyes tightly
then sailed I into dark night sky
dreaming of my arms
dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars.
But
i fell like lead
just before hard ground
to my father’s arms- veinated, calloused
his chirped nails safely grabbed
then
i opened my eyes
stretching my empty arms, pink nails
for a earnest glimpse of
a dip of deep, dark-blue velvety
golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatched twinkling stars.
and I felt sad.
Then-
father buried his head on my nape
his grizzly beard tickling my face
making little ‘blurp’ ‘blurp’ sounds
my shrill laughter
accosting his deep throaty laughter
echoing my disappointment into dark night sky
before sailing me into dark night sky
back to his rough-gentle arms
again
again
and again
to dip in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpate golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars.
“Drink all Ma’s omena* soup
to be taller, reach the dark night sky”
father said, following my gaze
into the dark night sky
static radio bleating reggae
golden full moon bathing us in golden sheen
just me and my father
sleeping in his rough-gentle arms
dreaming of my arms
dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars
poem by Manuel Odeny
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Past and a poet
a dark avenue bordered by trees
a man walking on the asphalt alone
nearing an art village ancient
only a horse somewhere
breaking the silence
a horse unseen
keeping
its wild
and undissolved resolution
to cross the time
rhyming with
warm and
speed
foggy stars somewhere above
trees talking perhaps each other
leaves are still but wind brings
its touch of no fear rather fire
illumines with an essence of past
stones caves sculptures a far near
and sudden crashed with uncertain
all the dark vanished a white apron
flying madly to cover to touch the walker
man stands free as if thousand years he passed
his feet stands above the wave of time
and the nymph from inside the apron
came close to tell the beauty of ignition
to show the truth behind chiseled sculpt
and past meet the present and present
prophesying the future to keep its spark
where dark is no more dark to breed
the lamp to lit in solitude to shelter
the certain leaps through beauty of lust
Pranab k c
09/12/2001
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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The Crayz Age
Two music street man to enter into the crowded passenger bus
They crowled among the passenger who stand closely
who were wearing “lurik” clothes and hold his flute
Not play his flute but he held up o’s hand
As a weapon, shut to the passengers
The passenger were tired and boring
With sum of music street man on the bus
Orherwise they shut their mouth
Or like a deaf and dumb man
Or they quiet of tired, boring or vain hope
Which had couldn’t reach the attain
one of them were crowled to the back site
and the other one went to the front site
His chin pulled out, he looks to the passenger,
Oh no, he saw along to straight pass
And then he opens his rumpled books and read it with his loud voice
With his an indecent song
Potest to military regime were cruel
Or mentally corrup of birocrat
Seks scandals,
Sambil mengutip kalimat-kalimat dari bait-bait syair
Quote from “Pujangga” Ronggowarsito
“zaman edan” OR the craZY AGE
(Prasetya Utama, Bogor, Wednesday, January 18,2006)
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Refugio's Hair
In the old days of our family,
My grandmother was a young woman
Whose hair was as long as the river.
She lived with her sisters on the ranch
La Calera--The Land of the Lime--
And her days were happy.
But her uncle Carlos lived there too,
Carlos whose soul had the edge of a knife.
One day, to teach her to ride a horse,
He made her climb on the fastest one,
Bareback, and sit there
As he held its long face in his arms.
And then he did the unspeakable deed
For which he would always be remembered:
He called for the handsome baby Pirrín
And he placed the child in her arms.
With that picture of a Madonna on horseback
He slapped the shank of the horse's rear leg.
The horse did what a horse must,
Racing full toward the bright horizon.
But first he ran under the álamo trees
To rid his back of this unfair weight:
This woman full of tears
And this baby full of love.
When they reached the trees and went under,
Her hair, which had trailed her,
Equal in its magnificence to the tail of the horse,
That hair rose up and flew into the branches
As if it were a thousand arms,
All of them trying to save her.
The horse ran off and left her,
The baby still in her arms,
The two of them hanging from her hair.
The baby looked only at her
And did not cry, so steady was her cradle.
Her sisters came running to save them.
But the hair would not let go.
From its fear it held on and had to be cut,
All of it, from her head.
From that day on, my grandmother
Wore her hair short like a scream,
But it was long like a river in her sleep.
poem by Alberto Ríos
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Love in a Bent Road
love in bent of road
dark in leafy of leaves
generating impression cusorily
and is quickly forgotten
like pickmeup
took a fancy to by the youngest children
once toss down
its bottle is thrown
in corner
in place garbage
modernization product
forgetting tradition.
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Empty Path
Empty path of the Halmahera Guest House
Throughout of oldtime
As old as the dust attached on the door leaf
Old dust attached on the wall
And dark room
Where painting laid
From the mad life
Throughout the cantings
In the room corner
When my soul cried
Fighting to myself
fighting alone interpreting the dream
in the old well
the old man catch chiken
and drinking black wine
eat some rice
with the black lips
where nicotin and bear aroma
smell around his face
in the old well
cried his brokenlove
where I am alone
sat on the rattan chair
smell of
the naughty wind blowing
fall of some old bamboo leaf
opened the envelope
contens of pray and word
love disappointment
cut through all the word
Bogor 12 Desember 2001
poem by Prasetya Utama
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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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