Ownership kills the love
The Jockey owns not the horse that he tends.
And with that, more than the owner, he spends.
But the Jockey is terribly upset,
When he is removed or shifted from his seat.
I am too, when taken from the woman loved
No need to own one to get nourished from.
14.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Lesson From The Horse Race
There's no such thing as gallant loser and there's no glory in defeat
And coming first is all that matter and victory is always sweet
For the winning horse and jockey there's a mighty hip hooray
And the jockey he is smiling victory has made his day.
The stable lad leads in his winner he has never known such joy
And the owner pats his race horse as if to say well done me boy
And there's applause for the winning trainer from the large onlooking crowd
And the horse is centre of attention and those who backed him clapping loud.
Near by stands the beaten favourite held there by his stable lad
And with no trace of the horse's owner and the trainer looking sad
In a thrilling photo finish beaten into second place
But he get little recognition for running such a splendid race.
Human life is like the horse race at winning post you've got to lead
Losers are quickly forgotten and to be loved you must succeed
You must strive hard for your glory and if you fail in your vital test
You too will be quick forgotten as winners are remembered best
And there's a lesson from the horse race and it read plain for all to see
If you live for admiration go for outright victory
And you will be the main attraction and all the applause will be for you
And like the poor defeated race horse there will be none for number two.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Jockey, and a Horse Named Love
in the kentucky derby
i am jockey
my horse is love
you are my sponsor
on the day of the race
i abandon my post
you lose the bet
now i come
to beg you
to be my sponsor again
your trust i have betrayed
your money spent for nothing
i plead you to overlook
i plead you give a chance
so will you
whom i have caused losses
whom i have betrayed
whom i have left in mid-race
give a jockey like me
who caused you losses
who betrayed you
who left you in mid-race
another chance
to jockey again
my horse
named love
poem by Kiley Casanova
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Two Jockeys see through the same hole.
Other masters are not your advocates
To take up your issues with your master,
The cause being genuine or you a friend though.
A Jockey will not advocate against a jockey.
23.03.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Horse That I Am Riding
then finally, the horse that i am riding,
the black one with long hair and
long feet, flying without wings,
speed nearing the speed of light,
has taken the lead, and the rest follow
tirelessly still,
i do not look back,
i do not beat the horse with a stick
i keep on riding making the horse
feel confident that i am still
supporting its cause, to be first,
to be famous
and then my horse wins,
the owner gets the real buck,
and i the jockey,
merely receives a little name
and a little commission.
the horse gets nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Holiday At Race Course
Went to race course dismissing idea of casino.
It was really something different to go.
I was excited to watch some thing live
instead losing in gamble in smoky light.
Horse race, a joint work of man and animal,
again a combination of sports and gamble.
Accompanied my friend who was bit experienced,
he selected racetrack and horse to win the bet.
The pony looked having better winning chance
judged he was happy, peppy and eager to race.
Jockey was also smart and had good ride style
I did nothing but followed my friend with smile.
I too dared to risk my ten dollars on same pony,
it was unknown, on whom we put the money.
It's past performance matrix and about training,
even about the jockey we were not knowing.
Lucky day was it, for the horse chosen by us
We returned happy, added few dollar to vault
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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A Horse Riding Boy!
A boy goes on horse riding to school!
He doesn’t like cycle or bike or vehicle!
His parents work in foreign countries;
They are ready to give him even bike;
He insisted on horse only for his ride!
He has collected points on horse also;
So, he has got horse for going to school.
He spends Rs.150 daily for his horse;
He even participates so on functions
And he earns considerable amount too!
His aim is to become a race horse jockey!
He learns a lot by doing from now on.
His aim is not to become a book worm;
His vision, idea and action is to achieve
Unlike other boys of his age in school!
Music, arts, games and creativity make
One great after education as it is sure!
A horse riding boy is an inspiration indeed
For kids to develop talent and rise high!
Education is just basic alphabetical letters;
But new creativity only makes one great!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Sex sans marriage
Man holds
That he is the owner of the house
And the horse both of which he has bought.
No dispute.
He thinks he owns woman he has married.
He thinks he is the owner of her body too.
It leads to sex slavery.
24.09.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Take wisdom from the wise - not everyone who rides a horse is a jockey.
The horse I bet on was so slow, the jockey kept a diary of the trip.
quote by Henny Youngman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Halku - 69
strong wind
--------------
jockey on the horse,
have the white slip, on the head,
is losing the rate
poem by Maria Barbara Korynt
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Shakespeare on the Turf
SCENE I
SCENE: The saddling paddock at a racecourse.
Citizens, Battlers, Toffs, Trainers, Flappers, Satyrs, Bookmakers and Turf Experts.
Enter Shortinbras, a Trainer, and two Punters.
FIRST PUNTER: Good Shortinbras, what thinkest thou of the Fav'rite?
SHORTINBRAS (aside): This poltroon would not venture a ducat
on David to beat a dead donkey; a dull and muddy-mettled rascal.
(To Punter): Aye marry Sir, I think well of the Favourite.
PUNTER: And yet I have a billiard marker's word
That in this race to-day they back Golumpus,
And when they bet, they tell me, they will knock
The Favourite for a string of German Sausage.
SHORTINBRAS: Aye, marry, they would tell thee, I've no doubt,
It is the way of owners that they tell
To billiard markers and the men on trams
Just when they mean to bet. Go back it, back it!
(Tries to shuffle off, but Punter detains him.)
PUNTER: Nay, good Shortinbras, what thinkest thou of Golumpus?
Was it not dead last week?
SHORTINBRAS: Marry, sir, I think well of Golumpus.
'Tis safer to speak well of the dead: betimes they rise again.
(Sings)
They pulled him barefaced in the mile,
Hey, Nonny, Nonny.
The Stipes were watching them all the while;
And the losers swear, but the winners smile,
Hey, Nonny, Nonny.
Exit Shortinbras.
SECOND RUNTER: A scurvy knave! What meant he by his prate
Of Fav'rite and outsider and the like?
Forsooth he told us nothing. Follow him close.
Give him good watch, I pray you, till we see
Just what he does his dough on. Follow fast.
Exeunt Punters
SCENE II
The same. Bookmakers call: 'Seven to Four on the Field!'
'Three to One, Bar One!' 'Ten to One, Golumpus.'
Enter Two Heads.
FIRST HEAD: How goes the battle? Did thou catch the last?
SECOND HEAD: Aye, marry did I, and the one before,
But this has got me beat. The Favourite drifts,
And not a single wager has been laid
About Golumpus. Thinkest thou that both are dead?
Re-enter Punters
PUNTER: Good morrow, Gentlemen. I have it cold
Straight from the owner, that Golumpus goes
Eyes out to win today.
FIRST HEAD: Prate not to me of owners. Hast thou seen
The good red gold Go in. The Jockey's Punter
Has he put up the stuff, or does he wait
To get a better price. Owner say'st thou?
The owner does the paying, and the talk;
Hears the tale afterwards when it gets beat
And sucks it in as hungry babes suck milk.
Look you how ride the books in motor cars
While owners go on foot, or ride in trams,
Crushed with the vulgar herd and doomed to hear
From mouths of striplings that their horse was stiff,
When they themselves are broke from backing it.
SCENE III
Enter an Owner and a Jockey
OWNER: 'Tis a good horse. A passing good horse.
JOCKEY: I rose him yesternoon: it seemed to me
That in good truth a fairly speedy cow
Might well outrun him.
OWNER: Thou froward varlet; must I say again,
That on the Woop Woop course he ran a mile
In less than forty with his irons on!
JOCKEY: Then thou should'st bring the Woop Woop course down here.
OWNER: Thou pestilential scurvy Knave. Go to!
Strikes him.
Alarms and excursions. The race is run and Shortinbras enters,
leading in the winner.
FIRST PUNTER: And thou hast trained the winner, thou thyself,
Thou complicated liar. Didst not say
To back Golumpus or the Favourite!
SHORTINBRAS: Get work! For all I ever had of thee
My children were unfed, my wife unclothed,
And I myself condemned to menial toil.
PUNTER: The man who keeps a winner to himself
Deserves but death. (Kills him)
Enter defeated Owner and Jockey.
OWNER: Thou whoreson Knave: thou went into a trance
Soon as the barrier lifted and knew naught
Of what occurred until they neared the post.
(Kills him)
Curtain falls on ensemble of punters, bookmakers,
heads and surviving jockeys and trainers.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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A Man Named Kim
I knew a man named Kim.
Who owned a horse named Jim.
And it won!
It ran wire to wire.
Man! Was that horse on fire.
I'll never forget that day.
When Kim took his horse out,
for a work out.
And the jockey fell right off the horse.
What a spill!
But nothing like the day,
when Jim won the purse.
Of course the horse's name was Jim.
And he was definitely owned by a man named Kim.
Kim has seen better days, and Kim has seen worse.
But nothing like the day,
when Jim won the purse.
And life goes on..
Horse Story Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2001,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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Put Out To Graze In The Pasture
Hey
The only thing you can truly say
Is that you 'once' ran a good race
And now that you've aged
And have been replaced
Why put that blame on the jockey?
That jockey is accustomed
To riding on the backs of winners.
And you have fed that purpose.
No matter what spotlight you believe,
You today deserve.
Your purpose has been served.
Get over it.
You've been put out to graze in the pasture.
Whatever you had has been used.
And like the rest,
Who have taken their lives for granted
Your purpose,
Has
Been served!
With or without your consent or lost investment,
You spent at the service of others.
Graze and shut the
Just shut up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Give Up Betting On Horse Racing
Horse of outside chance should win this time but lost bluntly.
Bettors were angry and clamored against the jockey.
In my old age, I knew at last the race was but a fraud.
However, many horse fans deemed the trainer as their God.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
http: //poem.bestfd.com/bbs/forum.php? mod=viewthread&tid=12101&extra=page%3D1
poem by Charles WOO
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Clothes And Underwear
shades and
black shiny shoes
and white socks
and olive green polo shirts
a red jockey underwear
and king's pants
a rolex wristwatch
reading glasses
they are all spread
randomly on
a carpeted floor
all these are useless.
removed from you
and her.
she moans.you are
naked.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pegasus
If I am a Pegasus, the winged horse in Greek mythology.
Definitely I would have changed my stable, jockey and reins
As I want to be free myself.
I am sure that my Master would have released me
And I find a short cut for my loved ones.
I promise him to be returned with my lost identity.
Then I could have request from my Master to be a Stallion as usual
And give back the wings according to my phenomenon.
Master, please do not count my teeth as I am a workhorse without the working papers.
(To my poet friend Max.Reif)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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3. I Nearly
I nearly won the football pools
The man next door won first
I nearly found a dog with speed
But I must have picked the worst
I nearly won the national
The jockey’s horse was shying
I nearly won the lottery
But I know the balls weren’t trying
I nearly won the boat race
The team I picked didn’t start
But I really won the one I love
When you came first in my heart
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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Value is felt late
As a boy by mother,
As a lad by girl,
As a man by wife, and
As father by kids
I was loved.
As the old, by none
I am loved.
Pity, only now I want them
15.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The role of man
Man takes a woman on his chest
As a father hugs his child.
He holds her mare as a jockey does.
Having embedded his seeds in her womb,
He falls down on her breasts as a child does.
08.10.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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