Shadowy nocturne
It is midsummer,
and the nights are hot.
Black horse is strolling along the lake,
trying to delve into another world.
Black horse is rather sad tonight,
the white horse is not following behind,
no one chats with it,
no one plays with it,
only its shadow follows it.
It stops.
looking at the lake quietly.
The moon,
falling on water,
makes it white, inscrutable,
giving the shadow a burnish and a silver plating.
The black horse,
it can not spend its life chasing after shadow,
no matter it is an anguish or elation,
it must have a brave act,
telling the white horse what you feel.
(17th of August,2004)
poem by Trino Chan

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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12. Moonlight River
Black horse, strolling alone, to the river
He lowers his neck and drinks the water
Black clouds, shading the rays from the sky
White horse, treading alone, to the river
She lowers her neck and drinks the water
Black clouds, fusing the shadow into the night
Gradually the clouds disperse, and the moon
Shines warmly on the black horse
It lifts up its head and looks around
The white horse has disappeared.
(Aug 23,2004)
poem by Eugene Issaus

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hope or despair?
It is November,
clamness rules.
After an arduous chase,
the black horse eventually stops.
Still, only its shadow follows behind.
The gigantic tree,
acting like a shadowy shelter,
the black horse is standing underneath,
weeping.
The wind is blowing heavily,
scourging the black horse cruelly,
tormenting it toughly,
a dire punishment.
A precipice is nearby,
the black horse is gawking at the edge of it,
without closing its eyes for a night,
a desperate look.
The sun is rising very slowly,
coming up over the horizon,
shaking out light to the cloudless sky gradually,
the pale white and the deep blue combine and the clouds turn blue.
Leaves on the trees sparkle,
down below a flower shines,
eyes of beasts glitter,
neigh of the black horse breaks out.
The world emerges from darkness,
every cloud has a silver lining,
even a ray of hope,
come on, don't give up.
(18th of August,2004)
poem by Trino Chan

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Solid Shadow
Through the black blood stained helmet,
He swung his agile horse in a charge
And that was where they met.
The horse of Solid Shadow.
Though his horse was small
He was untouched by the quickest
With his speed, there was no room to stall.
The horse of Solid Shadow.
He marveled at the tiny beast,
In a matter of seconds,
The shadow was released.
From frown to horror.
To their deaths men fell,
Hearing only the pound of hooves
Men bent down and knelt,
To no avail of the Solid Shadow.
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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* * *
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

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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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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

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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

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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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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

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I also pay tribute to my flesh
I do not keep a snob spirit
A closed one not open to the realities
Of my duality: body and soul
Flesh and spirit, to keep myself whole
To keep the horses satisfied and make
This chariot travel smoothly towards
The path I have chosen towards the path
Of my true destination
The black horse and the white horse
They must too live in harmony
The black horse of my nights
The white horse of my days
And this chariot where I ride
I am still the driver in control
I drive where I want to go
I stop when I want to stop
These horses must see me as their master
And this chariot where I ride Is nothing
But just a useful thing.
Today, I pay tribute to my flesh
And my spirit must also understand
Love after all hinges on desires
And without this body, how can the spirit feel?
And where can guilt be, if love knows
That it is always greater and can always win.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Shadow of the Horse
In bright sun’s wash
Over concrete & stone
Outlined in strong contrast
The shadow appears
Before the white horse
Who bows its curved head
In acknowledgment.
The images stream-
And its swift appearance
Stays, as light & heat seem
To do, although, it’s been
Only a short while.
The folklore of archetypes
weaves tales
Of a soul longing to be seen.
“I see you & I love you, ”
The shadow tells the horse
Without uttering a sound.
The evidence is in the light. In
The arrest of time-
In the passing moment like
The crucial note in a song. The
Horse sees that its not alone.
The dream of the horse & the shadow
Is hard to let go of.
There is comfort in love that
Doesn’t talk back. A long walk
Down the bridle path releases
The need.
The sun fades & filters through
The leaves & the breeze...Yes,
The sun fades & filters through
The leaves & the breeze as
Autumn comes & the horse
Gives thanks by merely living
the seasons.
The shadow increases & decreases
At will. And the curvature of the earth
bows low with a simple nod.
poem by E.E. Green

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To the white horse the zebra said: 'i am white too,' and to the black horse: 'i am really black.'
Horse Play
Four gallant horses
galloped forth.
One was white, one was black,
one was red, one was brown.
One had four legs,
one had three,
one had two,
and the fourth had one leg.
The one-legged horse
said to the others :
the time for dance has come,
sweet friends,
let's dance on a single hoof !
All of them liked the idea,
and the dance began.
The four-legged horse fainted outright,
the three-legged horse slipped and fell,
the two-legged horse limped to a fall :
only the one-legged one
danced on and on.
poem by Ayyappa Paniker

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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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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

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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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The zebra told the white horse, ""I am white,"" and told the black horse, ""I am actually black.""
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

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A White Horse Of The Most Magical Kind
She rode a white horse,
rode it for sanity;
galloped and cantered
with rhythmic consistency,
walked for a while
along glistening streams
and trotted through dark woods
with the darkest of dreams.
Bridled with a need to express
she rode east and rode west,
never stopping or ceasing her quest,
until she reached
the most beautiful shore,
of a beach of white sand
with a moon in the sky
that reached with its moonlight
into her heart, that had cried.
She dismounted the horse
and danced on the sands
with stars in her eyes;
pure love in her hands.
She looked at her horse
praised it and said
'a horse such as you
is a magical find
a horse that's named poetry
is the most wonderful kind.'
poem by David Taylor

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