White Horses
Where run your colts at pasture?
Where hide your mares to breed?
'Mid bergs about the Ice-cap
Or wove Sargasso weed;
By chartless reef and channel,
Or crafty coastwise bars,
But most the ocean-meadows
All purple to the stars!
Who holds the rein upon you?
The latest gale let free.
What meat is in your mangers?
The glut of all the sea.
'Twixt tide and tide's returning
Great store of newly dead, --
The bones of those that faced us,
And the hearts of those that fled.
Afar, off-shore and single,
Some stallion, rearing swift,
Neighs hungry for new fodder,
And calls us to the drift:
Then down the cloven ridges --
A million hooves unshod --
Break forth the mad White Horses
To seek their meat from God!
Girth-deep in hissing water
Our furious vanguard strains --
Through mist of mighty tramplings
Roll up the fore-blown manes --
A hundred leagues to leeward,
Ere yet the deep is stirred,
The groaning rollers carry
The coming of the herd!
Whose hand may grip your nostrils --
Your forelock who may hold?
E'en they that use the broads with us --
The riders bred and bold,
That spy upon our matings,
That rope us where we run --
They know the strong White Horses
From father unto son.
We breathe about their cradles,
We race their babes ashore,
We snuff against their thresholds,
We nuzzle at their door;
By day with stamping squadrons,
By night in whinnying droves,
Creep up the wise White Horses,
To call them from their loves.
And come they for your calling?
No wit of man may save.
They hear the loosed White Horses
Above their fathers' grave;
And, kin of those we crippled,
And, sons of those we slew,
Spur down the wild white riders
To school the herds anew.
What service have ye paid them,
Oh jealous steeds and strong?
Save we that throw their weaklings,
Is none dare work them wrong;
While thick around the homestead
Our snow-backed leaders graze --
A guard behind their plunder,
And a veil before their ways.
With march and countermarchings --
With weight of wheeling hosts --
Stray mob or bands embattled --
We ring the chosen coasts:
And, careless of our clamour
That bids the stranger fly,
At peace with our pickets
The wild white riders lie.
. . . .
Trust ye that curdled hollows --
Trust ye the neighing wind --
Trust ye the moaning groundswell --
Our herds are close behind!
To bray your foeman's armies --
To chill and snap his sword --
Trust ye the wild White Horses,
The Horses of the Lord!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Related quotes
White Horses
We stare at the rocks and shoreline
As if time itself has fled,
For the sea once lapped at our laughter
When he would go on, ahead;
But the seasons change in the counting
And the laughter fades from the eye,
He went ahead at the parting
Caught up in his own bleak tide.
Your hair turned white in the mourning
Your songs all died in your throat,
Your eyes turned wild, and haunting
As I looked for some antidote;
But age crept up and caught you
In a season of sad neglect,
We sit at the shore in silence
And think of some deep regret.
For the waves roll in like thunder
And the foam now caps the crest
And your wild, white hair blows ever
And your eyes are dim, distressed;
I hold your hand in silence
In hopes that you’ll speak of him,
But you take a breath, and mutter
“White horses are coming in! ”
And over the heads of breakers
Where the foam breaks loose at the rip
I fancy the manes of horses
Are tossed at the breaker’s tip;
And shoulders pound at the rollers
While hooves flash white in the tide
And your dim grey eyes reflect them,
As you cry at their foam-flecked ride.
White horses, caught at the breakers
With manes of wild, white hair
They run at the shallow waters
In the hopes that he’ll be there,
Their eyes are dim at the mourning
As the rollers set them free,
You smile at the heads a-tossing:
“White horses – coming for me.”
28 November 1994
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Mustangs Are Born Free (Monchielle)
Let wild horses run free
In mountains let them be
Release them let them go
Stop killing these horses
They are so scared you know
Let wild horses run free
Don't divide mom from baby
Wild horses to be free
Let them run in mountain
Don't take freedom away
Let wild horses run free
Let's join voices help horses
Take them where they belong
They truly need our help
Selling these horses wrong
Let wild horses run free
Since small I love horses
I grew up watch them grow
Mustangs are beautiful
They're unique smart you know.
September 24,2009
poem by Dorian Petersen Potter
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The Hatred In You
Dappled horses,
Bay horses,
Red horses,
Black horses,
White horses;
However, you boasted against us all with your mouth!
Because of the hatred in you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Wild Horses
Childhood living
It's easy to do
The things you wanted
I bought them for you
Graceless lady
You know who I am
You know I can't let you
Slide through my hand
Wild horses
Couldn't drag me away
Wild horses
Couldn't drag me away
I watched you suffer
A dull aching pain
Now you're decided
To treat me the same
No sweeping exits
Or offstage lines
Could make me feel bitter
Or treat you unkind
Wild horses
Couldn't drag me away
Wild wild horses
Couldn't drag me away
I have my freedom
But I dont have much time
So let's do some living
After we die
Wild horses
Couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses
Couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses
Couldn't drag me away
Wild horses
We want them someday
song performed by by Garbage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember Lot's Wife
One is taken and the other is left down,
One is spoken to and the other is written to,
But remember Lot's wife and learn!
For if your child ask you of fish,
Will you give him a snake? !
Then think twice before you leap.
Life is full of ups and downs but,
Be very strong always to carry on;
And like the fig tree planted in the vineyard,
be very focus on your dreams.
Red horses and black horses,
White horses and dappled horses,
And with the bay horses to write this muse;
Life is guided by the four spirits of the heavens but,
Yu've sown much and brought in a little.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Wild Horses And The Snow
last night the horses were there again
black, brown, white, gray horses, spotted ones
on their furious breaths they ran wildly on the
white snow
white as the fleece of a lamb
the feathers of the parakeet
the hair of the albino hamster
they are making the sounds of freedom
exploring the distance of distances
roaming the earth
and the mountains and the plains
all in my head.
subconscious desires waiting for the Freudian
explanations.
as usual.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Gallop of Fire
When the north wind moans thro' the blind creek courses
And revels with harsh, hot sand,
I loose the horses, the wild red horses,
I loose the horses, the mad, red horses,
And terror is on the land.
With prophetic murmer the hills are humming,
The forest-kings bend and blow;
With hoofs of brass on the baked earth strumming,
O brave red horses, they hear us coming,
And the legions of death lean low.
O'er the wooded height, and the sandy hollow
Where the boles to the axe have rung,
Tho' they fly the foreman as flies the swallow,
The fierce red horses, my horses, follow
With flanks to the faint earth flung.
Or with frenzied hieroglyphs, fear embossing
Night's sable horizon bars,
Thro' tangled mazes of death-darts crossing,
I swing my leaders and watch them tossing
Their red manes against the stars.
But when South winds sob in the drowned creek courses
And whisper to hard wet sand,
I hold the horses, the spent red horses,
I hold the horses, the tired red horses,
And silence is on the land.
Yea, the South wind sobs among the drowned creek courses
For sorrows no man shall bind---
Ah, God! For the horses, the black plumed horses,
Dear God! For the horses, Death's own pale horses,
That raced in the tracks behind.
poem by Marie E J Pitt
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The Muse Of Life
Black and white horses,
Black and white cows,
All that muses is about life;
Cos', the wind blows to where it is directed.
Brown and white horses,
Brown and white cows,
The muse of life teaches us many tricks;
But, i've got rain and sunshine to crown the day.
The muse of a moose,
The bloom of a flower,
The blues of mankind to take the pieces;
The muse of life teaches many.
'The dish washer is not in the Bible'! !
Shouted the lone-ranger in need of love;
But, all that muses is about life.
Of cows and horses,
Of men and women,
Of Black and White Race to fill the earth;
Yes, all that muses is about life.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Wild Horses
Childhood living
Is easy to do
The things you wanted
Well I bought them for you
And graceless lady
You know who I am
You know I cant let you
Ah slide through my hands
Wild horses
Couldnt drag me away
Wild, wild horses
Couldnt drag me away
I watched you suffer
A dull aching pain
Now youve decided
To show me the same
No sweeping exits
Or offstage lines
Can make me feel bitter
Or treat you unkind
Wild horses
Couldnt drag me away
Wild, wild horses
Couldnt drag me away
I know I dreamed you
A sin and a lie
I have my freedom
But I dont have much time
Faith has been broken
Tears must be cried
Come on lets do some living
After we die
Wild horses
Couldnt drag me away
Wild, wild horses
Well ride them someday
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Long....
How long will i cry for help?
How long must i cry to you?
It is like swimming things,
Who do have rulers upon them.
How long shall this take to get to you?
How long should i wait for your love?
I will stand my watch and will be,
More fierce than the evening wolves!
The pride of your hearts have deceived you,
Like a great wind over the sea;
Three days and three nights,
A cry from the great fish to teach us all.
How Long....? Oh how long.....? !
Consider your ways like,
A cry from the Fish-Gate;
This seed will grow successfully.
Red horses,
Of each man and his cane;
Black horses,
Of each woman and her cane;
White horses,
Of the seed that will grow successfully;
Dappled horses,
Of the art of a design in my mind;
Bay horses,
Of the great wind at sea;
How long will i cry for help?
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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THE JUMPING HORSES OF THE CARNIVAL (edited, my eyes are failing me)
Do you still remember
the jumping horses of the carnival
when we were yet small?
Do you remember sometime
in July of 1968?
The horses were made of tin
in different colors,
practically all other colors
which were impossible for real horses
that we knew of
black, gray, white, brown, spotted
there were pink, yellow green
and rainbow horses
(i hope you remember
that you preferred the black ones)
Those horses did not jump on their own
You bet
A hand held their feet
and when your guess won,
you got
a cheap teddy bear
Those horses move with the music
of the old record player
with a harsh and confused voice
like a desert storm
and there was a Big Man
holding the microphone
Dictating who shall move next
till your number won the prize
of your persistence
i called you stupid &
That was the beginning of my criticism
Turned treatise of Reason
Now, i am going back there to obtain more data
Perhaps, i shall then be
Enlightened in black and white, perhaps,
i am not sure anymore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Child in the Orchard
'He rolls in the orchard: he is stained with moss
And with earth, the solitary old white horse.
Where is his father and where is his mother
Among all the brown horses? Has he a brother?
I know the swallow, the hawk, and the hern;
But there are two million things for me to learn.
'Who was the lady that rode the white horse
With rings and bells to Banbury Cross?
Was there no other lady in England beside
That a nursery rhyme could take for a ride?
The swift, the swallow, the hawk, and the hern.
There are two million things for me to learn.
'Was there a man once who straddled across
The back of the Westbury White Horse
Over there on Salisbury Plain's green wall?
Was he bound for Westbury, or had he a fall?
The swift, the swallow, the hawk, and the hern.
There are two million things for me to learn.
'Out of all the white horses I know three,
At the age of six; and it seems to me
There is so much to learn, for men,
That I dare not go to bed again.
The swift, the swallow, the hawk, and the hern.
There are millions things for me to learn.'
poem by Edward Thomas
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Wild Horses
As the sun goes down on the arizona plain
And the wind whistles by like a runaway train
Hey hey hey its a beautiful thing
Well its me and you and a flatbed truck
My heart kicking over like a whitetail buck
Hey hey hey in the middle of spring
You can cut me deep
You can cut me down
You can cut me loose
Dont you know its okay
You can kick and scream
You can slap my face
You can set my wheels on a high speed chase
Hey no matter what you do
Wild horses could not drag me away from you
Wild horses could not drag me away from you
As the sky falls down from the midnight blue
Spittin like bullets on a hot tin roof
Hey hey hey its a beautiful sound
Well its me and you in a flatbed truck
In a foot of mud just my luck
Hey hey hey a hundred miles out of town
You can call me a fool
You can call me blind
You can call it quits
Cant hear a word you say
Cause if I had you once
Im gonna have you twice
Im gonna follow my heart instead of good advice
Hey no matter what you do
Wild horses could not drag me away from you
Wild horses could not drag me away from you
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bullroarer
In the desert in the dry
Before the breaking of the rain
The temperature in the shade
Had reached a hundred and ten again
In the desert in the dry
On the overland telegraph line
Dont take the law into your own hands
Dont go looking for a fight
Ive heard the bullroarers
In the desert in the dry
Sun sits so high
Long days mile and the
Radio crackles and the bones bleached white
Its a knock-em-down storm
See the tin roof shake
Wild dog howls and the long grass
Whistles and the tall trees break
Ive seen the wild horses
Ive heard the bullroarers
Ive seen the wild horses
Shifting sands and broken plans
Lead me on to my homeland
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild Horses
Childhood living is easy to do
The things you wanted
I bought them for you graceless lady
You know who I am
You know I can't let you slide through my hand
Wild horses
Couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses
Couldn't drag me away
I watched you suffer
A dull aching pain
Now you're decided
To show me the same
No sweeping exits
Or offstage lines
Could make me feel bitter
Or treat you unkind
I know I've dreamed you
A sin n' a lie
I have my freedom
But I dont have much time
Faith has been broken
Tears must be cried
Let's do some living
After we die
Wild horses
Couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses
Couldn't drag me away
song performed by by Guns N' Roses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mares Of The Camargue
[From the Mireio of Mistral]
A hundred mares, all white! their manes
Like mace-reed of the marshy plains
Thick-tufted, wavy, free o' the shears:
And when the fiery squadron rears
Bursting at speed, each mane appears
Even as the white scarf of a fay
Floating upon their necks along the heavens away.
O race of humankind, take shame!
For never yet a hand could tame,
Nor bitter spur that rips the flanks subdue
The mares of the Camargue. I have known,
By treason snared, some captives shown;
Expatriate from their native Rhone,
Led off, their saline pastures far from view:
And on a day, with prompt rebound,
They have flung their riders to the ground,
And at a single gallop, scouring free,
Wide-nostril'd to the wind, twice ten
Of long marsh-leagues devour'd, and then,
Back to the Vacares again,
After ten years of slavery just to breathe salt sea
For of this savage race unbent,
The ocean is the element.
Of old escaped from Neptune's car, full sure,
Still with the white foam fleck'd are they,
And when the sea puffs black from grey,
And ships part cables, loudly neigh
The stallions of Camargue, all joyful in the roar;
And keen as a whip they lash and crack
Their tails that drag the dust, and back
Scratch up the earth, and feel, entering their flesh, where he,
The God, drives deep his trident teeth,
Who in one horror, above, beneath,
Bids storm and watery deluge seethe,
And shatters to their depths the abysses of the sea.
poem by George Meredith
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She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain
She'll be comin' round the mountain,
When she comes.
She'll be comin' round the mountain,
When she comes.
She'll be comin' round the mountain,
She'll be comin' round the mountain,
She'll be comin' round the mountain,
When she comes.
She'll be drivin' six white horses,
When she comes.
She'll be drivin' six white horses,
When she comes.
She'll be drivin' six white horses,
She'll be drivin' six white horses,
She'll be drivin' six white horses,
When she comes.
Oh we'll all go to meet her,
When she comes.
Oh we'll all go to meet her,
When she comes.
We will kill the old red rooster,
We will kill the old red rooster,
And we'll all have chicken and dumplin',
When she comes.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Song of the Cattle Hunters
While the morning light beams on the fern-matted streams,
And the water-pools flash in its glow,
Down the ridges we fly, with a loud ringing cry --
Down the ridges and gullies we go!
And the cattle we hunt -- they are racing in front,
With a roar like the thunder of waves,
As the beat and the beat of our swift horses' feet
Start the echoes away from their caves!
As the beat and the beat
Of our swift horses' feet
Start the echoes away from their caves!
Like a wintry shore that the waters ride o'er,
All the lowlands are filling with sound;
For swiftly we gain where the herds on the plain,
Like a tempest, are tearing the ground!
And we'll follow them hard to the rails of the yard,
O'er the gulches and mountain-tops grey,
Where the beat and the beat of our swift horses' feet
Will die with the echoes away!
Where the beat and the beat
Of our swift horses' feet
Will die with the echoes away!
poem by Henry Kendall
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Dream Hoese II (Revised)
Galloping, galloping in the night sky,
a pale dream horse and his dream herd float by.
There's no sound from their hooves,
There's no pound of their hearts,
as silently, soundlessly they waft
through the dark.
The moon was a chalis brimming with light,
when I first looked up and witnessed
their flight.
In a swirl of mother-of-pearl stardust they rode
and freedom of spirit was their only load.
Dream Horse, you are made of dream dust.
You rear on your hind legs,
and paw at the sky.
On earth you were a sight to stun the eye.
Ah, but now you are old or without a home.
There is money to be made, and Hearts run cold.
There are those that lie to sell your bones,
No matter how many weep or how many moan!
They say on this planet there is no grace,
for you and your wild herds,
there's not enough space.
but in endless eternity you've found a place.
So ride, Dream Horse, ride. Whirl by
with your dream herd,
through the vast incandescence of night!
There's no friction of resistance
in their noisless race
as swiftly they slip through rimless space.
Author's Comments:
'I was deeply shocked to learn of our horses being sold to foreign countries for food. According to articles owners were told they were going to retirement pastures or mercifully euthanized. Proposition 6, Save the Horses and http.//Save the Horses.com make fascinating reading.
poem by Mary Naylor
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Dream Horse II (Revised)
Galloping, galloping in the night sky,
a pale dream horse and his dream herd float by.
There's no sound from their hooves,
There's no pound of their hearts,
as silently, soundlessly they waft
through the dark.
The moon was a chalis brimming with light,
when I first looked up and witnessed
their flight.
In a swirl of mother-of-pearl stardust they rode
and freedom of spirit was their only load.
Dream Horse, you are made of dream dust.
You rear on your hind legs,
and paw at the sky.
On earth you were a sight to stun the eye.
Ah, but now you are old or without a home.
There is money to be made, and Hearts run cold.
There are those that lie to sell your bones,
No matter how many weep or how many moan!
They say on this planet there is no grace,
for you and your wild herds,
there's not enough space.
but in endless eternity you've found a place.
So ride, Dream Horse, ride. Whirl by
with your dream herd,
through the vast incandescence of night!
There's no friction of resistance
in their noisless race
as swiftly they slip through rimless space.
Author's Comments:
'I was deeply shocked to learn of our horses being sold to foreign countries for food. According to articles owners were told they were going to retirement pastures or mercifully euthanized. Proposition 6, Save the Horses and http.//Save the Horses.com make fascinating reading.
poem by Mary Naylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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