The Horse Cutter's Dream
like a meanness racing around an incongruity's slow burn the horse cutter's day ends
nothing but the slow dance of the swizzle stick makes for evening's fast times
where the drawn shade rattles whisper's whistle sweeps across a dream
one of these days i'll go home
down to where white haired men sit around warming their meanings on no meaning at all
where what is said is easy as crossing the eye of a storm
and so the horse cutter passes each day keeping to himself
keeping the teeth of his saw sharp
hambone hambone where you been
round the world and back again
poem by Paul Bamberger
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Slow Burn
Here shall we live in this terrible town
Where the price for our minds
Shall squeeze them tight like a fist
And the walls shall have eyes
And the doors shall have ears
But well dance in their dark
And theyll play with our lives
Like a slow burn
Leading us on and on and on
Like a slow burn
Turning us round and round and round hark who are we
So small in times such as these
Slow burn
Slow burn
Oh, these are the days
These are the strangest of all
These are the nights
These are the darkest to fall
But who knows?
Echoes in tenement halls
Who knows?
Though the years spare them all
Like a slow burn
Leading us on and on and on
Like a slow burn
Twirling us round and round
And upside down
Theres fear overhead
Theres fear overground
Slow burn
Slow burn
Like a slow burn
Leading us on and on and on
Like a slow burn
Turning us round and round and round and here are we
At the center of it all
Slow burn
Slow burn
Slow burn
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you saw two guys named Hambone and Flippy, which one would you think liked dolphins the most I'd say Flippy, wouldn't you You'd be wrong though. It's Hambone.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Come Back
before you go
you put three things
just three things
on the table of your room
a red rose, a yellow mongol pencil,
a nail cutter,
a nail cutter is nothing
but when you come back you find it missing.
you think about the nail cutter
that ordinary nail cutter that you can buy
at anytime
in any store,
it is not there anymore, the red rose wilted
and the yellow mongol pencil is untouched.
you still think about the nail cutter
where could it be? who took it?
your world revolves now around
the missing nail cutter.
it is like loving an ordinary person,
who is now
missing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Jumping Horses
As you step into the arena,
Your heart rushes,
Horse following close behind,
Giving you steady nudges.
You mount yourself slowly into the English saddle
You move toward the jump.
Faster, faster.
Your feet ready in the stirrups
In jumping position,
As you grow closer to the jump
You are overcome by a weird sensation,
A sensation of happiness, nervousness, and excitement
As you post you feel the heart rate of the horse.
You are both one.
Faster, and faster still,
You feel as if you where flying,
Your horse raises its front legs,
You are flying!
Over the jump you feel relaxed,
You feel great.
You draw your horse to a slow gait,
Your heart racing.
Again and again you jump
15 minutes pass you loose time,
You slow down.
The horse’s heart is racing to the pace of yours,
You slow to a halt
Lower yourself from his back,
You pat him congratulate him,
And return the tack.
(Pause)
Jumping… Such a wonderful feeling,
Your heart rushing!
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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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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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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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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How Slow
How slow the time passes
On hot summer days,
How heavy the air,
And the heat, and the haze.
How slow the sun's creeping
In reaching for noon,
How long now the day-time
Belonging to June.
How dry lies the earth
In the farmer's old hands,
How slow plod the herds
As they stroll off his land.
How sweet the bird sings
In the old apple tree,
How slow the leaves falling
O'er pathway and lea.
How far the bell tolls
Over green evening fields,
How close now the haymakers'
Singing and reels.
How slow the time passes
In twilight's night shade,
How slow fell the footsteps
True lovers once made.
Written March 1995
poem by John Carter Brown
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Cup Couplets
Out of great wisdom, long stored up,
I would write me a rune of the Melbourne Cup.
Out of experience, grave and gay,
I would raise me a rhyme to the gala day.
With words of wisdom then let us begin;
For a many shall wager, but few shall win.
And first a warning: Go slow this trip,
For there's many a slip 'twixt the Cup and the tip.
And the sport of Kings, tho' it capture the town,
Is never for one with but half-a-crown.
For this oft is the tale of a Cup Day revel;
Dine with the gods and sup with the devil.
And this oft is the rule when the lucky man sups:
He is in on the Cup and he's on in his cups.
When the living is slow and the horse also
It doesn't much matter what pace you go.
When the living is slow and the horse is fast,
You may keep to a pace that is like to last.
When the living is fast and the horse is 'dead,'
There's the dickens to pay, and an aching head.
But, fast or slow, if you play the game
To the end, then the end is much the same.
So this is the motto to hold and to hug:
There is but one Cup; but there's many a mug.
And these be the sayings of Smug, the saint,
You may guess he's a grouch, but I wot he ain't.
So, out or in, if you still can grin,
Here's a glorious day to you, lose or win!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Oh! Can it be?
Oh! Can it be? Said the blue bird to the bee,
That you are poking holes in the air is what I do see;
No! Said the bee, It's just my warning alarm to let you know,
Come too close, and you will get the point, that is so.
Oh! Can it be, said the bird to the cat below?
You have such claws, they look to sharp, you know,
Said the cat, to the bluebird on the fence just near,
These claws are sharp, for birds who show no fear;
Oh can it be? Said the cat, to the large bulldog there,
You don't see to want with me your food to share;
Then the dog said to the cat, Touch my bone you'll be cat nip,
Go eat your whiskers, go away, or I will make of you egg flip.
Oh! Can it be? Said the dog, to the large horse in the stable,
Are you a grand racing horse, or is that just a fable?
Neigh, nay, just here to help the farmer to plough,
But; if you get too cheeky, I will kick to the cow.
Oh! Can it be? Said the horse to the cow, near the barn
Is it true, mrs white the lamb, can give a good yarn?
Of course she said, to nick the large horse, it's true,
Mrs White, can certainly give a yarn with a nice dye,
But if you say neigh in stead of yea, I'll know you tell a lie.
The moral of this poem, is do not be a stick beak,
Or someone may be rude ad call you a lousy freak;
And don't go stirring and spreading any rumor,
Or you may have the joke on you, and that's no humor.
poem by Margaret Haig
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The Champion Horse
Thousands of people greet the best horse in the field.
It runs so fast yet easily though not four-wheeled.
Its speed is higher than the wind and bird in the sky.
Sometimes it neighs on the grass; sometimes it looks so shy.
Is it the son of the famous horse owned by the king?
Its excellent performance makes all horse owners awing.
It wins many open events in an easy way.
Leaving his good name in the racing world today.
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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I Get No Sleep
Got a house full of fortune and they pay me in gold
For something Id do for free.
But theres still something missing that a man cant hold,
Its like a weight over me, so scared the thrill will be gone.
But Im the one who keeps the pressure on,
All Ive got is all I need,
But I get no sleep and Im tired to the bone...
...i know Im not alone.
Well, Im sick of walking round with blood in my eyes,
Just keeping up with this town.
Im a roadrunner racing, but I dont see the signs,
Ive got to learn to slow down.
My life makes it hard to complain,
But theres time Id take my school days back again...
...four oclock and Im still counting sheep.
Love to change the system, but Im in too deep.
I keep the pressure far away as I can,
But it still comes back again...
song performed by by Richard Marx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Is A Trier
He once was a man who owned greyhounds going back a few decades ago
But for them he was all the poorer the dogs that he owned were too slow
And now he has shares in a racehorse but for that he's not a wealthier man
The race horse though well bred is quite ordinary as they say one more also ran
With greyhounds and horses he has had it this horse he does swear is his last
Venture in the greyhound or horse racing business these things he will put to his past
Any spare cash he has he'll invest in stocks and bonds with a far greater chance of success
It is due to greyhounds and horses that he is in a financial mess
He has erred twice but never again greyhounds and horses are now in his past
The horse has never run a place the greyhounds just could not run fast
Dabbling in the stock market his newest business venture trading on stocks and shares he will try
Fortune favours the brave some will tell you this time luck him may not deny
But never more greyhounds or horses for his mistakes he has had to pay
But credit him he is a trier and good times for him may not be far away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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When I was young, I was too slow. I thought I must learn to run fast by practicing to run fast, so I ran 100 meters fast 20 times. Then I came back, slow, slow, slow.
quote by Emil Zatopek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Death Of Peter Hayes
You won't find any life around where his remains will lay
And words of praise won't bring him back his soul has gone away
And though he died young at fifty one suppose he had his day
And for flying in fast planes you might say there is a price to pay.
This morning I heard in the news how Peter Hayes did die
The light plane he and his mate David Noble were in just dropped out of the sky
Near Mildura in Victoria their end came suddenly
A cruel blow to the Horse Racing World and the Hayes family.
A brother to Hong Kong's leading trainer David and the late Colin Hayes eldest son
So much success in horse racing the Hayes family have won
Peter was Victoria's and South Australia's leading trainer and his passing leaves a void
In Horse Racing a household name he was known far and wide.
The Horse Racing World is in shock at the news of the death of Peter Hayes
And though the horse racing writers write the eulogies and heap upon him praise
You won't find any signs of life where his remains will lay
A shy and unconceited man his soul has gone away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Life's Too Short To Love This Fast
You say hello, I say goodbye
You go your way and I go mine
There's not much time for you and I these days
We work too hard, we're gone too much
And we're too tired to even touch
So just how long can we go on this way
Oh, life's too short to love this fast
If we don't slow down our hearts won't last
We can't keep up this pace we're on right now
We burn the candle at both ends
The circle turns, we start again
Let's make our future better than our past
Life's too short to love this fast
Let's take some time, let's get away
Let's pack our bags and leave today
Girl, anyplace would be okay right now
Just leave your pager here at home
And I won't carry my cell phone
We need to find some time alone somehow
Yeah, life's too short to love this fast
If we don't slow down our hearts won't last
We can't keep up this pace we're on right now
We burn the candle at both ends
The circle turns, we start again
Let's make our future better than our past
Life's too short to love this fast
--- Instrumental ---
We're spinnin' our wheels
Forgetting how love feels
Let's slow down before it's too late
'Cause life's too short to love this fast
If we don't slow down our hearts won't last
Let's make our future better than our past
Life's too short to love this fast
Love this fast
Life's too short...
song performed by by Alabama
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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Slow Moving Sea
If you ever feel youll lose your dreams
Or your hope seems too far gone
Ill bring the distance to your door
You couldnt ask for any more
You were around when I needed a friend
You were the means you were the end
Youll be the one Ill turn to now
Theres gonna be some hard times coming down
Without you the world would be so crowded
Without you the moon would be so clouded
Without you I can be anyone
Anyone at all but myself
If ever your candle wont blow out
Or your sorrow seems so interrupted
Well Ill be the first to bring the darkness down
Ill be the silence at your side
Without you the music couldnt move me
The words would ring true
But the tune would feel so empty
Without you I can be anyone
Anyone at all but myself
But myself
Wish I was a slow moving sea
Moving away from the land so cautiously
Id find me an island to surround
Just like you did as I was feeling down
As I was feeling down
Without you the world would be so crowded
Without you the moon would be so clouded
Without you I can be anyone
Anyone at all but myself
Oh but myself
Wish I was a slow moving sea
Wish I was a slow moving sea
Love is like a slow moving sea
Keeping in touch with eternity
Wish I was a slow, slow, slow, slow moving sea
Love is like a slow moving sea
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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