The Old Bridge
An very old bridge stood dominate,
Over rushing river prominent.
No doubt by now had seen better days,
Many years covered in summers haze.
Timbers now creak with foot or hoof,
Although now few animals and little proof.
Small animals prints and perhaps a horse,
Herds would bring about deathly remorse.
But in its day it saw great commerce,
Moreover a horse drawn blackened hearse.
It saw sheep and dusty cattle herds,
It carried secretive meetings of lovebirds.
Lawbreakers and lawmakers also traversed,
Church goers, quilt sewers and drovers dusty thirst.
The old bridge remembers histories deeds,
Suicides, soldier's braded on handsome steeds.
Now her timbers are a valued resource,
And workman here steel away this concourse.
Every nail and knot memories numerous,
But now a dinner or coffee table for hubris.
Let us stand as our histories custodians,
Renovate and repair, keep her from brigands.
Protect our history for the child to come,
Once history is lost, it is lost forever son.
Related quotes
The Covered Bridge
The covered bridge above a stream
in hues of weathered colour cream,
who's planks once bowed from wheel and hoof -
her carriages now seem aloof,
and paint curls back off every beam.
Traversed by oxen as a team
the wear and tear had been extreme.
Several bids were made to proof
the covered bridge,
but they were few and far between.
Now years gone by, they cross by steam.
Expelling out her grey-white poof,
the churning locomotive's woof,
her trav'lers 'member naught, but dream
the covered bridge.
poem by Jason Cline
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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History is a living horse laughing at a wooden horse. History is a wind blowing where it listeth. History is no sure thing to bet on. History is a box of tricks with a lost key. History is a labyrinth of doors with sliding panels, a book of ciphers with the code in a cave of the Saragossa sea. History says, if it pleases, Excuse me, I beg your pardon, it will never happen again if I can help it.
quote by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Give Way
I know a man from Lancashire
who had a horse and cart for hire.
The horse was old but the cart is strong,
somehow together they didn't belong.
When they became one there was a change,
Ears went up, whip in the tail, snap the riegns.
They came to a bridge, it looked a little weak
As they crossed, it hobbled, tapped and creaked.
The wooden bridge was small and norrow
not to long, but only room for one to pass.
Towards them flapped a little brown sparrow,
horse thinks, no way he's makin me into an ass.
The old horse snorted and put his head down,
nothing would stop them getting to town.
Said the horse: ' no one's gettin in my way'
Then the little sparrow flew up, got out the way.
Hovering above watching everything,
just like a slow motion scene.
The sparrow saw the horse
fly through the trucks screen.
P.S. We used a proffessional stunt horse, he is Ok.
poem by David Darbyshire
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Those were the Days
The horse drawn hearse impresses me
Drawn by a pair of well matched blacks.
Moves slowly onward sedately.
With an attendant at the back.
The coachman in dark livery.
A black crepe bow adorns his hat
Controls his horses easily
There can be little doubt of that.
It is a sight we rarely see.
In the busy world of today.
A horse drawn hearse traditionally.
Was seen to be the only way.
To embark on your last journey
To the local cemetery.
Tuesday,17 April 2012.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lochness
Grey mist drifts upon the water
the mirrored surface moves
awakened of this presence
dispelling legends proof
a beastly head of onyx
with eyes of coals of fire
it's leather hide lies glistening
ascends the head ???
whoa whoa whoa(echo)
this legend lives through centuries
evoking history's memories
prevailing in eternities_
on and on and on
Lochness Confess_
your terror of the deep
Lochness distress_
?? lingers what you keep
Lochness protect monstrosity
Lochness confess to me
somehow it heeds the piper
from battlements that call
from side to side it ponders
in passion in the skull
this islands lair of mystery, mystery
contains a lost world empathy
resilient smooth discovery
on and on and on
Lochness Confess_
your terror of the deep
Lochness distress_
?? lingers what you keep
Loch Ness protect monstrosity
Loch Ness confess to me
This legend lives through centurys
This legend lives through centurys
Evoking histories memories
Evoking histories memories
???? eternity
???? eternity
your secret lies safe with me
your secret lies safe with me
your secret lies save with me
this creatures peril from ??
is lost to mankind for release
A legecy to rest in peace
on and on and on
Lochness Confess
your terror of the deep
Lochness distress_
?? lingers what you keep
Lochness protect monstrosity
Lochness confess to me
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay
Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay!
With your numerous arches and pillars in so grand array
And your central girders, which seem to the eye
To be almost towering to the sky.
The greatest wonder of the day,
And a great beautification to the River Tay,
Most beautiful to be seen,
Near by Dundee and the Magdalen Green.
Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay!
That has caused the Emperor of Brazil to leave
His home far away, incognito in his dress,
And view thee ere he passed along en route to Inverness.
Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay!
The longest of the present day
That has ever crossed o'er a tidal river stream,
Most gigantic to be seen,
Near by Dundee and the Magdalen Green.
Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay!
Which will cause great rejoicing on the opening day
And hundreds of people will come from far away,
Also the Queen, most gorgeous to be seen,
Near by Dundee and the Magdalen Green.
Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay!
And prosperity to Provost Cox, who has given
Thirty thousand pounds and upwards away
In helping to erect the Bridge of the Tay,
Most handsome to be seen,
Near by Dundee and the Magdalen Green.
Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay!
I hope that God will protect all passengers
By night and by day,
And that no accident will befall them while crossing
The Bridge of the Silvery Tay,
For that would be most awful to be seen
Near by Dundee and the Magdalen Green.
Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay!
And prosperity to Messrs Bouche and Grothe,
The famous engineers of the present day,
Who have succeeded in erecting the Railway
Bridge of the Silvery Tay,
Which stands unequalled to be seen
Near by Dundee and the Magdalen Green.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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It's been argued that of all the animals humans have domesticated, the horse is the most important to our history. For thousands of years, horses were our most reliable mode of transportation.
quote by Elton Gallegly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The nail supports the hoof, the hoof the horse, the horse the man, the man the world.
There is no history of mankind, there are only many histories of all kinds of aspects of human life. And one of these is the history of political power. This is elevated into the history of the world.
quote by Karl Popper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is no history of mankind, there are only many histories of all kinds of aspects of human life. And one of these is the history of political power. This is elevated into the history of the world.
quote by Karl Popper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Animals
I know what I need I need you
I cant see nothin else all I can see is you
I dont care what they say about my state of mind
I know whats good for me and you are just my kind
We are animals we are animals we are animals we are animals
I know what I want I want you
Shed your cloths forget your codes
You know this is nothing new
I smell your scent I taste your sweat
I feel this passion too
Lets trust our senses not our minds
Lets break all the rules
We are animals we are animals
We are animals we are animals
We are animals
We are animals
Come with me run with me leave this world behind
Come to me come with me I know that we will find
We are animals we are animals
We are animals we are animals
We are animals
We are animals
(m.charlton)
Copyright 1989 elgin music
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Three Kinds of People
The books of my history
Begins with comedy
And end with tragedy
“Son”, do you know this
Spontaneous?
If you don’t know
Don’t mind
Your father will tell you.
There are three kinds of people
But the history knows only two
The first are foxy foxes
Who do right things and
Great good deeds
They stand at the top of history
The second are mad dogs
Who do wrong things and
Great evil deeds
They stand at the bottom of history
The third are piggy hyenas
Who are neither wise nor foolish?
Who cannot do right or wrong?
The history doesn’t know them
They have no chapter in history book
Can you choose among them for
Your inspiration and if you
Can heed my advice
The foxes are the best stars
To stick to.
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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A foot soldier
When I was hurt & lost someone dear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When the going got tough with nothing to gear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the faith felt small & doubts really bigger
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When the sky was dark & nothing seemed near
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the wounds were hurting with no immediate cure
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the hopes were grim & nothing was clear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When storms came hard striking some fear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
I fought & fought & I fought till the victory was sure
Yes, I could do it because I am a foot soldier
poem by Ameya Deshpande
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Looking for my Horse
Just the other day I lost my horse
I lost my horse, I lost it somewhere
Not here for sure or I would find it
My horse is hungry my horse must drink
The flies are horse flies you know
They zoom about my head as if to say
You are sitting on your saddle, you dummy
Your saddle under you, beneath that … a horse
poem by Werner Klokow
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The Want Of A Nail
Ive been wrong
I had plans so big
But the devils in the details
I left out one thing
No one to love me
No one to love me
No one to love
For the want of a nail, the world was lost
For the want of a nail, the world was lost
For the want of a nail, the shoe was lost
For the want of a shoe, the horse was lost
For the want of a horse, the rider was lost
For the want of a rider, the message was lost
For the want of a rider, the message was lost
For the want of a message, the battle was lost
For the want of a battle, the war was lost
For the want of a war, the kingdom was lost
(such a tiny thing)
Youre askin
Whats all this talk about horses and war?
Put yourself in the place of the man at the forge
And day after day you live a life without love
til the morning you cant take it anymore
And you dont get up
Multiply it a billion times
Spread it all round the world
Put the curse of loneliness on every boy and every girl
Until everybodys kicking, everybodys scratching
Everything seems to fail
And it was all for the want of a nail
Tell me what else could the answer be
Dont hold back now
Give me all your love
Just a little more love
A little tiny bit of love
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vic and Vo
When one remembers Vo Rogue the famous race horse one remembers his trainer Victory Rail
For they were great together and they never seemed to fail
To give value for money Vo Rogue the gallant bay
Was a champion on pace galloper who often led all of the way
The mighty weight for age horse who galloped without shoes
He won many group races and was seldom seen to lose
Well trained by the likeable Vic and ridden by Cyril Small
Their feats Australian racegoers forever will recall.
Not one bred in the purple and of an unfashionable breed
But when the starting gates flew open Vo bounded to the lead
An out and out front runner he did not need a racing plan
He galloped on relentlessly and 'twas beat him if you can.
Since Vo Rogue was a champion a decade has gone by
And on looking back those years have sped how time just seems to fly
He must be getting on in years and time has left him slow
And where he lives in retirement now I wouldn't even know
And as for Vic Rail well he died young a rare bug laid him low
He lost his last battle in life five or six years ago
Around the trainer and his horse a legend it did grow
And racing folk will long recall the feats of Vic and Vo.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Decoding History In Bed
Our histories, though cryptically encoded,
can be decoded once we go to bed,
when sperm and cunty juices are downloaded,
or when a dream removes our maidenhead.
Inspired by Adam Phillips’s review of Daniel Mendelsohn’s “The Lost: A Search for Six of Six Million, ” in the LRB, April 26,2007:
The important thing here—and in all forms of history writing which, like Daniel Mendelsohn’s, have been affected by Freud—is not that everything is ‘reduced’ to sexuality, but that everything is subsumed by memory: desire for the past has the urgency and ingenuity once accorded to sexuality. Sexuality matters because it is one’s history at its most cryptically encoded. Family history shows up at one’s most intimate exchanges with other people. The lost—the literal and more figurative losses from one’s past—are never, in this view, quite as lost as one feared, or indeed hoped.
5/20/07
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Timber Ho!
Im gonna pull this timber 'fore the sun go down
Get it 'cross the river 'fore the bars come down
Drag it on down that dusty road
Come on jerry, lets dump this load
I said timber, ho!, timber, woah this timbers gotta roll
I said timber, ho!, timber, woah this timbers gotta roll
My old jerry was an arkansas mule
Been everywhere and he aint no fool
Weighed nine hundred and twenty-two
Done everything a poor mule can do
(chorus)
Jerrys shoulders stood six foot tall
Pulled more timber than a freight could haul
Workin heavy old jerry got sore
Pulled so much he couldnt pull no more
(chorus)
The boss said jerry and it made him jump
Jerry ran and kicked the boss on the rump
My old jerry was a cool mule
Had it been me I woulda killed that fool
Boss tried to shoot old jerry in the head
Jerry took that bullet and he stomped him dead
Stomped that boss til he heard him scream
Sure dont care he was so damn mean
(chorus 2x)
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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