The Steed Of Mind Speedeth Over The Sky
The steed of mind speedeth over the sky,
And, in the twinkling of the eye,
A hundred thousand leagues traverseth he.
Yet a man of discrimination can control
the curvetting steed,
And, on the wheels of praana and apraana, guide
his chariot aright.
poem by Lalleshwari
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A Horse To Outrun
A horse is sent to outrun the rollers with wheels,
A pin and needle can be a horse, but they are animals.
Stones are thrown on the bleeding wounds,
Heaven shines its odours on them to bind.
The wheels spin, to collect a dust of ruined historical measures,
Wheels indeed spin around to outrun the steed,
To make it abandon, but the battle is never-ending.
Eat the green goose, for it is cherished for its taste,
After the race is won by the rollers with wheels.
If the horse triumphs then exaltation is not possible,
Wheels are to oppress the horse or steed
To make it bleed and to crush its very head and neck.
poem by Naveed Akram
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One Hundred Thousand Marching
One hundred thousand marching
One hundred thousand men
One hundred thousand heading
To a place and a time when
One hundred thousand dying
One hundred thousand cold
One hundred thousand praying
Forever young and never old
One hundred thousand lives were lost
One hundred thousand felt the pain
One hundred thousand maimed and slaughtered
And yet those armies march again.
poem by David Keig
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Saddled On the Back of a Steed
Saddled on the back of a steed she is.
Moistered from a heated sweat.
She wishes to tease as she rides.
Butt naked on hilltops.
And loving the fast ride to the bottom,
Where she is dropped.
And she lays next to her muscled steed.
Fantasizing the next throb she gets,
When thrusted with a hustle nonstop.
To gaze and show an afterglow.
That satisfies her peacefully.
As she watches her steed thighs,
Pass her swiftly.
With a mighty galloped gale.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Faithless Knight
THE lady she sate in her bower alone,
And she gaz'd from the lattice window high,
Where a white steed's hoofs were ringing on,
With a beating heart, and a smother'd sigh.
Why doth she gaze thro' the sunset rays--
Why doth she watch that white steed's track--
While a quivering smile on her red lip plays?
'Tis her own dear knight--will he not look back?
The steed flew fast--and the rider past--
Nor paus'd he to gaze at the lady's bower;
The smile from her lip is gone at last--
There are tears on her cheek--like the dew on a flower!
And 'plague on these foolish tears,' she said,
'Which have dimm'd the view of my young love's track;
For oh! I am sure, while I bent my head,
It was then--it was then that my knight look'd back.'
On flew that steed with an arrow's speed;
He is gone--and the green boughs wave between:
And she sighs, as the sweet breeze sighs through a reed,
As she watches the spot where he last has been.
Oh! many a sun shall rise and set,
And many an hour may she watch in vain,
And many a tear shall that soft cheek wet,
Ere that steed and its rider return again!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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An aged steed confined to the stable still aspires after the glory of galloping a thousand miles.
Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 75
The gambler requires three sixes and only three aces turn up.
The pasture is a thousand times more pleasant than the racecourse
But the steed has not the bridle at its option.
Highway Junkie
(chris knight/sam tate/annie tate)
A hundred cups of coffee, five hundred cigarettes
A thousand miles of highway and I aint forgot her yet
But I keep on moving, I keep moving down the line
There aint nothing in my mirror, just a cloud of dust and smoke
But what do you expect when some old truckers heart gets broke
Yeah, truckers hearts gets broke
But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind
Im a highway junkie, I need that old white line
Ten miles out of nashville, I was doing a hundred and one
State boy me over and he said, wheres the fire, son?
He said, wheres the fire son?
I said man, there aint no fire, Im just running from a flame
Go on and write your ticket, but I aint the one to blame
That county judge tried to rob me blind.
But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind
Im a highway junkie, I need that old white line
So I rolled on down to memphis
I had nothing left to lose
I wanted to hear some rock and roll, but all they played was blues
I didnt wanna hear no blues
So I went to call up elvis and roger miller grabbed the phone
He said drive that 18 wheeler, boy, youre the king of the road
Said I was the king of the road
But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind
Im a highway junkie, I need that old white line
But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind
Im a highway junkie, I need that old white line
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Band of Gideon
The band of Gideon roam the sky,
The howling wind is their war-cry,
The thunder roll is their trump's peal,
And the lightning flash their vengeful steel.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
And men below rear temples high
And mock their God with reasons why,
And live in arrogance, sin and shame,
And rape their souls for the world's good name.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
The band of Gideon roam the sky
And view the earth with baleful eye,
In holy wrath they scourge the land
With earth-quake, storm and burning brand.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
The lightnings flash and the thunders roll,
And "Lord have mercy on my soul,"
Cry men as they fall on the stricken sod,
In agony searching for their God.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
And men repent and then forget
That heavenly wrath they ever met,
The band of Gideon yet will come
And strike their tongues of blasphemy dumb.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
poem by Joseph Seamon Cotter
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The Song Of Finis
At the edge of All the Ages
A Knight sate on his steed,
His armor red and thin with rust
His soul from sorrow freed;
And he lifted up his visor
From a face of skin and bone,
And his horse turned head and whinnied
As the twain stood there alone.
No bird above that steep of time
Sang of a livelong quest;
No wind breathed,
Rest:
"Lone for an end!" cried Knight to steed,
Loosed an eager rein--
Charged with his challenge into space:
And quiet did quiet remain.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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As The Lord Is Ensconced In His Chariot…
o, lord
let thy trundling wheels
crush this ego ridden
chariot of empty bones
of shallow dreams
of lecherous lust
***
o, jagannadh
this bag of flesh
sags under the weight
of uncommon greed
***
squash this clay mould
of imperfection
you moulded more out of habit
in a fleeting
wink of disinterestedness
***
this mould created
to amuse yourself
is entrapped
in the snarl of desire
this vacant structure
is forever fixed in
the net of illusions
this shallow chariot
time and again deviates
from its course…
***
o, lord
pound this particle
under your divine wheels
as your mighty chariot
rolls along the sandy bay
***
redeem it from
all these and more…
25jun2009
03
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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The difference is slight, to the influence of an author, whether he is read by five hundred readers, or by five hundred thousand; if he can select the five hundred, he reaches the five hundred thousand.
quote by Henry B. Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O'Donohue's Mistress
Of all the fair months, that round the sun
In light-link'd dance their circles run,
Sweet May, shine thou for me;
For still, when thy earliest beams arise,
That youth, who beneath the blue lake lies,
Sweet May, returns to me.
Of all the bright haunts, where daylight leaves
Its lingering smile on golden eves,
Fair lake, thou'rt dearest to me;
For when the last April sun grows dim
Thy Naiads prepare his steed for him
Who dwells, bright lake, in thee.
Of all the proud steeds that ever bore
Young plumed Chiefs on sea or shore,
White Steed, most joy to thee;
Who still, with the first young glance of spring,
From under that glorious lake dost bring
My love, my chief, to me.
While, white as the sail some bark unfurls,
When newly launch'd, thy long mane curls,
Fair Steed, as white and free;
And spirits, from all the lake's deep bowers,
Glide o'er the blue wave scattering flowers,
Around my love and thee.
Of all the sweet deaths that maidens die,
Whose lovers beneath the cold wave lie,
Most sweet that death will be,
Which, under the next May evening's light,
When thou and thy steed are lost to sight,
Dear love, I'll die for thee.
poem by Thomas Moore
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The Night Rider
Riding a dark horse,
With a dark force
The Night Rider.
Where does he go?
That I don’t know.
He goes when there’s no light
He comes through the night
With a great speed
Riding his dark steed.
The suffer he brings
Coming on the wings
Of the dark steed
He’s the one who lead
The forces of darkness
Full of might
Through the night.
He brings suffer
He breaths flame
In the world of darkness
He has fame.
poem by Milan Gojkovic
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The dark knight
He gallops into town
With nothing but his dagger and horse
He sits upon that horse
With a back as straight as a stone wall
Faster than a man's eye could detect
In one swift movement
He unmounts his mighty steed
Grabs out his dagger
With such graceful movement
He began to maul
With such stealth that's unlike any human beings'
He demolishes the small village
After looking around
Making sure everything was still and dead
He mounts his fearless steed
And canters away from the demolished village
With a frightening yet gorgeous smile upon his pale face
He begins to whistle an old tune
As if nothing had ever happened
poem by Storm Pedersen
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Song Of The Wheelman
Over my desk in a dark office bending.
Dim seems the sunlight and dull seems the day;
But when the afternoon draws toward an ending,
Here waits my steel steed-I mount, and away!
Like cobwebs of silver I see in the distance
The glint of bright wheels, I must follow and find.
What life in the air now! what zest in existence,
As faster and faster I race with the wind.
Down the smooth pavements, and out toward the heather-
Ho! fellows, ho! I am coming you see!
Breast to breast, now let us speed on together-
Who dares try mounting that hillside with me?
Over the bridge I go-past the green meadows,
Au revoir, boys, I will ride on alone!
For in yon cottage half hid in the shadows,
Waiting for me, is my sweetheart-my own.
She watches my wheel as it glitters and glistens
Down the steep crest of the daisy-starred hill.
Fair is her cheek as she waits there and listens
For the sure signal blown tenderly shrill.
Sweetheart, my sweetheart, I'm coming, I'm coming.
Here, sturdy steed, you may stand by the wall.
A bird to her mate has flown swift thro' the gloaming,
Love, youth and summer, thank God for them all.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Highway Junkie
Album: Black Dog (Original Soundtrack) [MCA] 1998
Track 4
A hundred cups of coffee,
Five hundred cigarettes
A thousand miles of highway
And I ain't forgot her yet
But I keep on movin',
I keep movin' down the line
There ain't nothin' in my mirror
Just a cloud of dust and smoke
What do you expect
When some ole trucker's heart gets broke
Yeah, a trucker's heart gets broke
But them big wheels of rubber
Gonna rub her off my mind
Well I'm a highway junkie
And I need that old white line
Ten miles outta' Nashville
I was doin' a hundred and one
State boy pulled me over
He said Where's the fire son?
Said Where's the fire son?
I said man there ain't no fire
I'm just runnin' from a flame
So go on an write your ticket, man,
But I aint the one to blame
That county judge tried to rob me blind
But them big wheels of rubber
Gonna rub her off my mind
Well I'm a highway junkie
And I need that old white line
--- Instrumental ---
So I rolled on down to Memphis,
I had nothin' left to loose
Wanted to hear some rock n' roll
But all they played was blues
I didn't wanna hear no blues
So I went to call up Elvis
But Roger Miller grabbed the phone
He said drive that eighteen wheeler boy
You're the king of the road
Said I was the king of the road
But them big wheels of rubber
Gonna rub her off my mind
Well I'm a highway junkie
And I need that old white line
I said I'm a highway junkie, man,
And I need that old white line...
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Knight
Our good knight, Ted, girds his broadsword on
(And he wields it well, I ween);
He 's on his steed, and away has gone
To the fight for king and queen.
What tho' no edge the broadsword hath?
What tho' the blade be made of lath?
'T is a valiant hand
That wields the brand,
So, foeman, clear the path!
He prances off at a goodly pace;
'T is a noble steed he rides,
That bears as well in the speedy race
As he bears in battle-tides.
What tho' 't is but a rocking-chair
That prances with this stately air?
'T is a warrior bold
The reins doth hold,
Who bids all foes beware!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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I Dreamt Of Yoking A Blemishless Horse Of Truth.
i dreamt of yoking a blemishless horse of truth.
&
at the threshold of my budding youth
i dreamt of yoking a blemishless horse of truth
to the chariot of my life on its journey through time
to adorn a life of divine bliss in its purest aspect
but, alas! the valiant steed of 'truth' failed miserably
even to pull a few meters on its labyrinthine ways
and my chariot got stuck in the slush of suspicion
the music of joy gave way to whines of anger-
ready at hand were 'lies' of prime youth
in battle-trim for throw-away prices raring for risks-
they guided my life all in sprightly sprints-
now at my exit gate i look into my interiors;
o how nasty and foul-smelling have i become!
-s.chandra kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Steel Cowboy
I was a steel cowboy most of my life
On top of eighteen wheels
Oh what a sight
Runnning the highways
Looking at life
From behind a big steering wheel
I've seen everything there is to see
From naked women to jacking off queens
Nothing gets missed atop my great steed
The beauty of Gods hand across this great land
Everyday was an adventure that couldn't be planned
I've parked my truck now
I'm now just a man
poem by David Kush
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Written in Butler's Sermons
Affections, Instincts, Principles, and Powers,
Impulse and Reason, Freedom and Control--
So men, unravelling God's harmonious whole,
Rend in a thousand shreds this life of ours.
Vain labour! Deep and broad, where none may see,
Spring the foundations of the shadowy throne
Where man's one Nature, queen-like, sits alone,
Centred in a majestic unity;
And rays her powers, like sister islands, seen
Linking their coral arms under the sea:
Or cluster'd peaks, with plunging gulfs between
Spann'd by aërial arches, all of gold;
Whereo'er the chariot wheels of Life are roll'd
In cloudy circles, to eternity.
poem by Matthew Arnold from Sonnets (1849)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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