The Once Mighty Bay
Fifteen years ago he could run as fast as the wind
The champion group 1 gelding of the thoroughbred kind
At the big City race tracks big races he won
The big bay in his prime was the Nation's number one
Racehorse and highest stakes winner and the one to beat
In his racing life he never tasted defeat
But in his retirement his face looking gray
A shadow of the horse he once was is the ageing big bay
In his younger years he was the Nation's pride
And to watch him race people came from places far and wide
But it has been awhile now since he was in his prime
And he is losing out to the father of time
And like every dog every race-horse has it's day
He can scarce raise a trot now the once mighty bay.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vic and Vo
When one remembers Vo Rogue the famous race horse one remembers his trainer Victory Rail
For they were great together and they never seemed to fail
To give value for money Vo Rogue the gallant bay
Was a champion on pace galloper who often led all of the way
The mighty weight for age horse who galloped without shoes
He won many group races and was seldom seen to lose
Well trained by the likeable Vic and ridden by Cyril Small
Their feats Australian racegoers forever will recall.
Not one bred in the purple and of an unfashionable breed
But when the starting gates flew open Vo bounded to the lead
An out and out front runner he did not need a racing plan
He galloped on relentlessly and 'twas beat him if you can.
Since Vo Rogue was a champion a decade has gone by
And on looking back those years have sped how time just seems to fly
He must be getting on in years and time has left him slow
And where he lives in retirement now I wouldn't even know
And as for Vic Rail well he died young a rare bug laid him low
He lost his last battle in life five or six years ago
Around the trainer and his horse a legend it did grow
And racing folk will long recall the feats of Vic and Vo.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pride Comes Before A Fall
The great one does not last a champion in his prime
He lost to a younger man with some help from father time
The years had left him slow time takes care of us all
He defended his pride but pride comes before a fall.
And even what a difference five or six years can make
To keep on keeping on for him a big mistake
He should have called it quits a couple of years ago
For the money he kept going though the years had left him slow.
Once feted and admired but that was in the past
And he too had his day and nothing ever last
He went down rather tame to one that he once would beat
And for one proud as he there is no pride in defeat.
The beaten one this time he has called it a day
Though perhaps six years ago he should have given his game away
But his pride kept him going wisdom never was his friend
And his glory day for him one might say at an end.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The race and the entrants
Running the RaceRunning the race, the entrant is thinking,
How shall I go, shall I be fast tracking;
The man calls their names and they each get down,
But someone starts off early, oh what a frown.
They all get ready, and the man says ready, set go,
Off they all start, around the track they all know,
The runner he thinks, as he races along there,
Have I done enough practice, as the crowd do stare.
But; soon he starts to put speed in each step,
And races ahead, The pace has some depth;
As they come up fast to the first time round,
One of the runners knocks another to the ground.
The runner is now fifteen feet ahead of the rest,
He wants to win the race, another medal in his nest;
As the race comes soon to the end for each one,
That entrant remembered the race of life soon to come.
As Paul had spoken of the race we all run,
In life it's not how much we have, but what we've done;
We run the race of life, seeking to live right,
Serving God our Father, walking in the light.
As we get to the end of the race we run,
When we finish our race well hear hopefully well done;
We can't go wrong when we do right and serve the Lord,
Pray, show kindness and care, and study His Word.
poem by Margaret Haig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brave sikhs
Brave people from India to be found with turban
Spread all over world, cities, areas in rural and urban
There is not the race to raise only slogans
They are martial race and carry weapon even
Resolve to die for motherland and country
Lay a life for causes to alleviate the misery
Stand by for people and lead them to safety
Such is Sikh* turban man as you mention in your poetry
Whole country takes pride in their race
They love to die for challenges to face
No one can raise a finger in dishonor
They are the people and actual defender
We love them and nation owes so much
Took all the brunt and suffered so much
Invaders plundered their land number of times
But they fought heroically and stood fast all the times
Whole nation is indebted to their valor and courage
They have provided food to all and safe refuge
Their religious heads gurus* stood for principles
The sink people value it and remain as staunch disciples
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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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Zenyatta
Zenyatta...
Your stamina has got a lot of moxie,
To be believed.
And upon your retirement,
I express this sentiment...
Did you choose to lose your last race,
To let the guys realize,
In your own eyes...
You will never be replaced.
With a decision NOT to win,
Left for those of us wondering...
As we rub our chins.
Realizing with acknowledgement...
Zenyatta IS a winner.
And you, Zenyatta...
Did not have to prove THAT again!
Dedicated:
To the brilliance of Zenyatta,
A female race horse.
Who ran and won every race she entered.
EXCEPT her last.
Ran November 6th 2010.
And 'this' she might have chosen to do!
Knowing all who witnessed it,
Were expecting her to!
Coming from the very last...
To end in second place.
Even 'that' is sheer championship,
No champion winning a previous nineteen undefeated...
Can fake.
'We love you, Ms Zenyatta...
Queen of the race track.'
~lsp~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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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Were I A Horse
A balding man my hair is gray decades ago it was brown
Were I a horse I'm sure by now that I would have been put down
I feel so very stiff and old father time is catching up on me
And I for one don't fear life's end what is to be will be.
I was not any good at sports I cannot dance and sing
I'm just your average ordinary bloke not much good at anything
They say only the good die young and I still linger on
And better people by far than I deceased, forgotten and gone.
Were I a horse I'd have been put down that may seem crude to say
But that's what happens to most horses when they have had their day
Most horses save for the lucky few not allowed to grow old and die
I feel grateful to be still around more living I'll enjoy.
Were I a horse I'd have been put down for dog or cat food maybe
The knacker takes the worn out horse the Reaper will claim me
The years on me begin to tell my fastest pace is slow
And I was in the prime of life some thirty years ago.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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On Seeing A Photograph
A photo of an ageing face stirs an old memory
He is plainly not a shadow of the man he used to be
His balding head is hoary gray his hair it was dark brown
When we played football as teenagers in the park in our Hometown.
He was a sprightly youth back then two years younger than I
On looking back the decades the years just seemed to fly
He played football worked in the fields and walked miles every day
But like me he seems the worst for wear the years have left us gray.
Perhaps we would be strangers now if by chance we did meet
We might not recognize each other in passing on the street
We age a little every day time of us all takes care
And leaves us looking in the end the very worst for wear.
A photograph of one I knew from many years ago
And he has aged as I have aged time on us all does show
We played football together when we were near to our life's prime
But in the end we all lose out to ageless father time.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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About in The City
about in the city, get caught up in the lights
walk with the people, anticipate the endless rhythm that is the night
awake each day to the race once again, the race of life,
run towards your dreams, run onto the subway,
because this city’s moving fast, racing forward in a hurry
talk fast and run with fury so you can be more than just a blur to this city
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In a More Receptive Mood
If it's going to be about race,
Today.
Let us vow to say...
That race is for the taste of life.
And we keep a pace to make it right.
If it's going to be about race,
Today.
And if it is about race,
Today.
Let's pray to race for harmony and peace.
And show there is a life believed with liberties,
We ourselves achieve.
Chase we must those shadows away.
And those gray clouds created,
To shade the brightest colors to fade.
And if it is about race,
Today.
Our hearts must remain wide open.
To initiate another fate...
That places us in a more receptive mood.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Friends Back In My Prime Years
My friends back in my prime years I never did disown
It's just that I live far from them and apart we have grown
We drank and played football together but our separate ways we've gone
And we have forged new friendships and life of course goes on.
My friends back in my prime years may now look a bit gray
And they might not know me or I might not know them if by chance we met today
In my memory they have remained young but in reality
The years have left their mark on them as the years have left their mark on me.
Old father time the aloof one to anyone doesn't bow
And some of my friends of my prime years may be grand parents now
Perhaps they now are showing their age and time has left them slow
They could run fast as I recall some twenty years ago.
My friends back in my prime years I may now not recognize
For time leaves it's mark on all of us I've come to realize
I drunk beer with them in the pub and with them played football
And that was many years ago as I can well recall.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father Forgive
Father forgive,
The hatred which divides
Nation from nation
Race from race
And class from class.
Father forgive,
The covetous desires
Of people and nations
To possess
What is not their own.
Father forgive,
Our greed which
Exploits the work,
Of human hands
And lays waste to the Earth.
Father forgive,
Our envy,
Of the welfare
And happiness
Of others.
Father forgive,
Our indifference,
To the plight
Of the imprisoned
The homeless
And the refugee.
Father forgive,
The lust which
Dishonors the bodies
Of men, women,
And children.
Father forgive,
The pride which leads us,
To trust in ourselves
And not in God.
poem by Athena Goddess of Wisdom Lumis Light to all
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Race Already Won
We’re in a race already won, in the race we daily run,
It is the race we call life, won for us by Jesus Christ,
A race we run so many ways, living out all our days,
Racing upon this earth, for a crown of Eternal worth.
As we run for that prize, in this race, we fix our eyes,
On The Author of our faith, guiding us by His Grace,
For as we live this daily life, we run into undue strife,
Difficulties along our way, we go through every day.
We remember as we run, that the race has been won,
For this Truth we receive, when, in Christ, we believe,
Our Lord, in Who we trust, won this race for all of us,
When He finished at Calvary, providing to us Victory.
So when we run into a test, in our Lord, we shall rest,
As we are in God’s Hand, when we don’t understand,
So in the midst of the race, we simply seek His face,
Then He gives to us peace, as we run doesn’t cease.
Anyone today can choose, this race, they can’t lose,
The race that’s been won, by Jesus, God’s own Son,
And to Him alone we raise, as a victor, eternal praise,
As we gain Eternal Life, in this race with Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©01/2010)
Port Burwell
About a quarter of a century ago, when Port Burwell was a
busy, thriving place, several friends accompanied me to
the port to attend a concert, we all being specially invited.
It was in the winter, and there had been a race on the
ice, in which the Port Burwell horse took the lead. We
gave a local piece of some length, but only retain now a
few lines. The people at the concert were highly pleased
with the effusion.
In winter time, who here resort
To pay a visit to your famous port,
They must be clad in fur well,
For it blows cold at Burwell.
But when you wish to trot your horse
You make lake Erie your race course,
And we believe at every heat
All other horses you do beat.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Number One
Words and music by joni mitchell
Got to be a winner--trophy winner
Get to hold your head up high up!
Number one!
Got to be a winner--trophy winner
Get to hold your head up high up!
Number one!
Number one
Number one
Honey tell me--
When your working day is done--
Were you reaching for the high rung--
Reaching to be number one?
You get a car
You want a boat
You want an eenie-meenie-miney miney-moe
Oh there must be more to living
Than a mortgage and a lawn to mow
Sweaty work
And lucky breaks
And blood and tears is all it takes
To be a winner!
People cheer
And people gasp
People want your autograph
When youre a winner!
Run, run, run, run
Lets see you run
Well be betting by the starting gun!
Shall we shower you with flowers
Or shall we shun ya
When your race is run?
Will we shower you with flowers
Or will we shun ya
When your race is run?
Will they shower you with flowers
Or will they shun ya
When your race is run?
Got to be a winner--trophy winner
Get to hold your head up high up!
Number one!
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Race
Lie down, [fair 1//pheromone], and come away
Till the rain is over and gone
G-g-gimme the beat now (face the music)
Lead line (face the music)
If the air is a little thick in this room 2nite
I reckon its the result of an onslaught of separatist rookies
Overcome by this colorful sight
Talkin so fast that even they
Talkin so fast that even they
Dont know what they mean
Of all the things that base a rhyme
How is it that u everytime
Regurgitate the racist lines that keep us apart?
Thank God this aint monopoly
Ud make us all go back 2 start
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
Check it
Three seats over theres a lady black
Entrusted 2 her care is a little white girl
And the fact of the matter is
Before her momma or another kid at school
Tells her about the fallacy that 1 race rules over the other
Shed be a much-better-off-left fool (face the music)
If we never heard about the evils that those before us committed
Then how my dear, tell me now how my dear, tell me now how now would we know
And then the band say
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
(face the music)
D-d-down with h-i-s-t-o-r-y and all this bs propagandi
Keepin u from me and me from u as we grow
I dont wanna know (I dont wanna know)
Why those before us hated each other
Id rather believe they never did
Id rather believe (Id rather, Id rather believe)
That theres hope 4 a kid
And if he imitates the best
I guess thats what Ill try 2 be
And I will let the rest dissolve with my guitar underneath the sea
Race
(face face face face face)
Face the music (face the music)
Face the music
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
Get it?
Race
Got it
Race
Face the music
Race race
(face face face the music)
Race race
(face face face the music)
Race race
Race race
(face-f-face the music)
Race
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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