Me And You And Sky And The Fly
me
i have to pee
you have to go poo
sky has to kill a horse fly
Christan has to go whistlin
me have to go to sleep
poem by Klayton Jaworowicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Horse Life
In a horse life.We can play with a burlap feed
bag, an empty milk jug, or chew on the barn stall
door.Just to kill some time, or to kill some every
day bordom.In a horse life.We get names like
Black Beauty, Flicka, Seabiscuit, or Secretariat.
In a horse life.We do tricks like bowing our heads
down, or placing our shoe upon a pedastool.Picking
up the cowboy hat.While tapping our feet rata-tat-tat.
In a horse life.We like a good block of salt.With lots
of minerals, to lick upon.A wholesome bale of hay.To
start off a brand new day.Or a bucket of grain.To keep
us all healthy, fat, and sane.And a fresh bucket of water,
to wash it all down.In a horse life.I could be losing a
horseshoe.While the rider is losing his mind.In a horse
life.We can be a workhorse, a race horse, or a trick pony.
Or maybe a showhorse, or possibly a circus horse.With
out all the phoney baloney.In a horse life.We can run all
day in the open sun, or run the race trak.While the betters
place their wagers.Of course, at the horse racing track
betters window.In a horse life..
A Horse Life Poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2011.All rights reserved.
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Breaking The Charm
Caught Susanner whistlin'; well,
It's most nigh too good to tell.
'Twould 'a' b'en too good to see
Ef it had n't b'en fur me,
Comin' up so soft an' sly
That she didn' hear me nigh.
I was pokin' 'round that day,
An' ez I come down the way,
First her whistle strikes my ears,--
Then her gingham dress appears;
So with soft step up I slips.
Oh, them dewy, rosy lips!
Ripe ez cherries, red an' round,
Puckered up to make the sound.
She was lookin' in the spring,
Whistlin' to beat anything,--
'Kitty Dale' er 'In the Sweet.'
I was jest so mortal beat
That I can't quite ricoleck
What the toon was, but I 'speck
'T was some hymn er other, fur
Hymny things is jest like her.
Well she went on fur awhile
With her face all in a smile,
An' I never moved, but stood
Stiller 'n a piece o' wood--
Would n't wink ner would n't stir,
But a-gazin' right at her,
Tell she turns an' sees me--my!
Thought at first she 'd try to fly.
But she blushed an' stood her ground.
Then, a-slyly lookin' round,
She says: 'Did you hear me, Ben?'
'Whistlin' woman, crowin' hen,'
Says I, lookin' awful stern.
Then the red commenced to burn
In them cheeks o' hern. Why, la!
Reddest red you ever saw--
Pineys wa'n't a circumstance.
You 'd 'a' noticed in a glance
She was pow'rful shamed an' skeart;
But she looked so sweet an' peart,
That a idee struck my head;
So I up an' slowly said:
'Woman whistlin' brings shore harm,
Jest one thing 'll break the charm.'
'And what's that?' 'Oh, my!' says I,
'I don't like to tell you.' 'Why?'
Says Susanner. 'Well, you see
It would kinder fall on me.'
Course I knowed that she 'd insist,--
So I says: 'You must be kissed
By the man that heard you whistle;
Everybody says that this 'll
Break the charm and set you free
From the threat'nin' penalty.'
She was blushin' fit to kill,
But she answered, kinder still:
'I don't want to have no harm,
Please come, Ben, an' break the charm.'
Did I break that charm?--oh, well,
There's some things I must n't tell.
I remember, afterwhile,
Her a-sayin' with a smile:
'Oh, you quit,--you sassy dunce,
You jest caught me whistlin' _once_.'
Ev'ry sence that when I hear
Some one whistlin' kinder clear,
I most break my neck to see
Ef it 's Susy; but, dear me,
I jest find I 've b'en to chase
Some blamed boy about the place.
Dad 's b'en noticin' my way,
An' last night I heerd him say:
'We must send fur Dr. Glenn,
Mother; somethin 's wrong with Ben!'
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Me & My Horse
riding together,
you and your horse.
as you run against the wind all you call hear is-
the wind wipping your ears,
the horse's hooves thundering beneath you,
the chains of your bit as the horse pulls against the reins,
and the faint sound of the horse behind you.
your horse stops,
the horse behind you catches up.
the race is over,
freedom will have to wait until next time.
poem by Horse Lover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That's A Thoroughbred
Is the fresh dew appearing,
On the backside of a thoroughbred horse...
Any indication,
That this horse stays prepared to run a race...
Anytime.
And never finds time to relax or sleep?
Or keep away from the track.
Only to practice lap after lap after lap,
With eyes on the prize!
And that's why the dew.
Since the early bird catches the worm?
'I stayed with you until we got to the bird.
And the worm.
What does that have to do with the horse? '
That's not just an ordinary horse.
Doing laps around a course!
That's a thoroughbred.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A demarche-Cauchy3-tricks
A demarche…
Take a pictured horse as deer.
Who will treat deer as horse?
Gods will say that.
All as pets are teacher pets.
Horse then goes as deer.
Throw the stones to test the water depth.
Games with theorems are centered guards.
Take a test upon aha actions.
With images of horse they all are Tory.
With image of deer they all are foes.
Invite a wolf into house or close the door to kill the dogs are after math after test.
poem by Cheung Shun Sang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Horse For Dinner
A horse A horse
My kingdom for a horse,
A horse A horse
For the main course
Muscles of might
Pulled so tight,
A body of organs
All for a meal
Why a horse?
Why not a deer?
A horse does the work,
A deer will just peer
A horse is strong
a deer has no uses,
so there for a deer
suffers the abuses
Condemned is a deer
as from the day it's born,
until the day it dies
and its meaty flesh torn
So why a horse
if a deer has no uses?
because I am a man
Who too, has suffered too many abuses
poem by John McAdam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whistling Sam
I has hyeahd o' people dancin' an' I 's hyeahd o' people singin'.
An' I 's been 'roun' lots of othahs dat could keep de banjo ringin';
But of all de whistlin' da'kies dat have lived an' died since Ham,
De whistlin'est I evah seed was ol' Ike Bates's Sam.
In de kitchen er de stable, in de fiel' er mowin' hay,
You could hyeah dat boy a-whistlin' pu'ty nigh a mile erway,--
Puck'rin' up his ugly features 'twell you could n't see his eyes,
Den you 'd hyeah a soun' lak dis un f'om dat awful puckah rise:
When dey had revival meetin' an' de Lawd's good grace was flowin'
On de groun' dat needed wat'rin' whaih de seeds of good was growin',
While de othahs was a-singin' an' a-shoutin' right an' lef,
You could hyeah dat boy a-whistlin' kin' o' sof beneaf his bref:
At de call fu' colo'ed soldiers, Sam enlisted 'mong de res'
Wid de blue o' Gawd's great ahmy wropped about his swellin' breas',
An' he laffed an' whistled loudah in his youfful joy an' glee
Dat de govament would let him he'p to mek his people free.
Daih was lots o' ties to bin' him, pappy, mammy, an' his Dinah,--
Dinah, min' you, was his sweet-hea't, an' dey was n't nary finah;
But he lef 'em all, I tell you, lak a king he ma'ched away,
Try'n' his level bes' to whistle, happy, solemn, choky, gay:
To de front he went an' bravely fought de foe an' kep' his sperrit,
An' his comerds said his whistle made 'em strong when dey could
hyeah it.
When a saber er a bullet cut some frien' o' his'n down,
An' de time 'u'd come to trench him an' de boys 'u'd gethah 'roun',
An' dey could n't sta't a hymn-tune, mebbe none o' dem 'u'd keer,
Sam 'u'd whistle 'Sleep in Jesus,' an' he knowed de Mastah 'd hyeah.
In de camp, all sad discouraged, he would cheer de hea'ts of all,
When above de soun' of labour dey could hyeah his whistle call:
When de cruel wah was ovah an' de boys come ma'chin' back,
Dey was shouts an' cries an' blessin's all erlong dey happy track,
An' de da'kies all was happy; souls an' bodies bofe was freed.
Why, hit seemed lak de Redeemah mus' 'a' been on earf indeed.
Dey was gethahed all one evenin' jes' befo' de cabin do',
When dey hyeahd somebody whistlin' kin' o' sof' an' sweet an' low.
Dey could n't see de whistlah, but de hymn was cleah and ca'm,
An' dey all stood daih a-listenin' ontwell Dinah shouted, 'Sam!'
An' dey seed a little da'ky way off yandah thoo de trees
Wid his face all in a puckah mekin' jes' sich soun's ez dese:
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Id Kill To Fall Asleep
Eyes open, I'm wide awake
I feel I'm in a coma state
I'll lay here on my back and watch the fan turn
Conversations cross my mind, but nothing of the speaking kind
TV images repeat there one lines
Back and forth I toss and turn
It feels like strings are holding up my eyes
I'd kill to fall asleep
I'd kill to fall asleep
Putting up a losing fight
I'll never see this end tonight
The thought of just one dream it consumes me
Numbers on the clock turn back, my pills are having no affect
The beating of my heart keeps the time going
Back and forth I toss and turn
It feels like strings are holding up my eyes
I'd kill to fall asleep
I'd kill to fall asleep
They say that when you sleep your body's at rest
I wouldn't know what sleep felt like if I tried my best
Polaroids and memories can fade away, so can I...
Back and forth I toss and turn
It feels like strings are holding up my eyes
I'd kill to fall asleep
I'd kill to fall asleep
I'd kill to fall asleep
I'd kill to fall asleep
I'd kill....
song performed by by New Found Glory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Constant Static
Eyes open, I'm wide awake
I feel I'm in a coma state
I'll lay here on my back and watch the fan turn
Conversations cross my mind, but nothing of the speaking kind
TV images repeat there one lines
Back and forth I toss and turn
It feels like strings are holding up my eyes
I'd kill to fall asleep
I'd kill to fall asleep
Putting up a losing fight
I'll never see this end tonight
The thought of just one dream it consumes me
Numbers on the clock turn back, my pleas are having no affect
The beating of my heart keeps the time going
Back and forth I toss and turn
It feels like strings are holding up my eyes
I'd kill to fall asleep
I'd kill to fall asleep
They say that when you sleep your body's at rest
I wouldn't know what sleep felt like if I tried my best
Polaroids and memories can fade away, so can I...
Back and forth I toss and turn
It feels like strings are holding up my eyes
I'd kill to fall asleep
I'd kill to fall asleep
I'd kill to fall asleep
I'd kill to fall asleep
I'd kill....
song performed by by New Found Glory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let it Kill
let it kill me and if it doesnt let it try again and again and again till i die, then let it try again and again and finally let it kill me if not then let it try again till i die of pain cause this pain i cannot take, so let it kill until i feel death creep up the corner, let me die with honor or without it just let me die, so let it kill me again and again and if not let it try until i die, for this life i cannot take i have lost all faith so just let me die, let it try to kill me dont set me free come on kill me i refuse mercy or sympathy all i want is death so please let it kill let it send me to death as fast as things go past, let it kill, let it destroy my soul and leave it not whole for i want death, i want death again i say i want death let it kill and if not let it kill again and again till death is all that remain, let it kill
poem by Adens Kamwi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tickity Tick Tock
can't sleep.
don't sleep.
won't sleep.
shan't sleep.
never sleep.
never sleep.
never sleep.
tick tock
tick tock
tickity tick
tock
tock
tock
the little hand drills a hole into my tired mind.
can't
tick
don't
tock
won't
tick
shan't
tock
never
tick
nev er
tock
never sleep
the clock keeps ticking
as my mind struggles to keep up
too many ticks.
too many tocks.
the clock's too loud
it echos through the silent night
too many thoughts
all at once
i need them on paper
scribble
tick
scribble
tock
that fucking clock
it never fucking stops
i cant fucking sleep.
a dog barks
tick
a car screeches
tock
a horse neighs...what?
i can't be that tired
i can't be hallucinating
i
can't
sleep.
don't sleep.
won't sleep.
shan't sleep.
never sleep.
i need a digital clock
The White Horse...
on that early dawn
they arrived. I will not tell you
exactly how many were they.
they brought the wild horse again
this time it is white and coy
they did not speak to me
my attention was focused on the
beautiful horse
i did not show that i liked it
i did not talk too
then they brought the horse inside
the house
and then the windows and doors
were closed
and then the white horse started to
dance
and i liked it more
it was then that i realized
what are they really
and why are they here bringing me
a beautiful white horse
will they take my antique chairs
made of rosewood?
will i bargain my house
for a horse?
just for a horse
and they whose names i do not really know
shall laugh
after they had finally taken the whole of what i have
just for a white horse whose talent is just
to dance?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A New Drug
A new drug was found
It did chase the bad thoughts away
But wait, what is this
Thoughts of peace with death
This is not acceptable
No this will not do
I've felt this way before
Enough to kill a horse is what they said
I guess I'm bigger than a horse because I'm still here
A new drug was found
Now it must be lost
poem by Paul Marshall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Horse and Rider
The prairie blows the grasses
And whips the horse’s mane.
They travel, horse and rider,
Through the sea of amber grain
Hills roll by, and clouds pass
But steady are the horse’s hooves
Upon the wind blown grass
As they travel, horse and rider
There is no trail that they follow
No path that can be seen
There they travel, horse and rider
Upon the endless blowing green
poem by Horse Poet
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The confusing of horse and donkey
There was a man
riding on a horse
horse have a mark of cross
horse saw a monkey
and from horse comes out a donkey
poem by Shahzeb Azhar
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* * *
Papa on the horse
As I remember,
Papa rode on the horse
the White horse
He was so cruel
And he would not
Feed
The white horse
For days
One day
They went to the
Sea
The white horse
And papa
I wished the
White horse
Would swim
To the other island
And leave
Papa for good
He was so cruel
And he would beat
The white horse
For days
But the white horse
Stayed
she was not fed
For days
One day
The White Horse
Got mad
And bit
Papa to death.
I did not wish
The horse
Would eat
Papa whole.
I too would be
Cruel then.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A crooning coo, a crawing hen, and a whistlin' maid were ne're very chancy.