They are Westerners
Have you seen else where a denim man with gaucho in hand,
Handling a huge horse with just a star in the shoe,
Boot that commands the land, hand that hints a man is coming,
Eyes that is deep as the Appalachian Mountains.
Whenever I look at them
With their eyes floating like rivers to all sides,
Guns the only thing to protect them from wild,
And their wind talker horse who guide them to the safety.
Those rolled tobacco in their mouth and few dollars to pay for all,
The puff when it rolls and the sea of alcohol it gets enforce,
Those shabby jackets, lands in a seat and the shirt collars which kisses the heat,
Dusts are coming from their body which shows how much work they are meant for.
They do not know what the fear is,
They even do not know what begging is,
They know only to work and earn,
Field their land with stables and graze all the horses and buffaloes.
They are stronger than a Spanish bull,
So they enjoy commanding horse and bull,
Their style is the venture for,
These are the man to whom every one looks up and say westerners.
poem by Sambidhan Acharya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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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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White Clydesdale horse
That big white horse he stands so high
And coat so white it hurts my eyes
A Clydesdale horse is the breed
Stand so proud does this stead
For weeks I just wondered why
He shows himself in my minds eye
I tell my friends what I see
It’s my granddad looking after me
A carter by trade was his game
And Clydesdale horses pulled the frame
For miles and miles through Scottish Land
My granddad went cap in hand
It nice to know he stands by me
As proud as the horse I can see
To give me strength both night and day
And guide me along the way
Chellaston
01 11 2010
poem by Jim O'Donnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Friesian Rider
As if a sunrise
I woke up to a view
Hurdles of horses gliding smoothly
Their legs extended and tails flapping
And as I blossom in a red attitude
Clouds darken the view from my eyes
Suddenly a white horse appears
And my eyes wonder
The land mocks at me
And I try to blend as its rider
But the white horse springs away
Into the dark doom
Away from the Ark
And I'm saved from the wasteland
And as the night goes down, goes down
I wake up on a golden land
To me a wild black horse glazes
He can only be ridden by royalty
I open my eyes in amazement
He blows dragonish flames through his nostrils
He is so glossy and
Oh! Is he the one! !
He crooks his forelegs in pride
The earth echoes his galloping
A giant Friesian must be coming
At last he rushes to me
And tramples the gold sand
Stretching my hands to embrace
New horizons we foresee
And we fuse together as one
We ride, we ride
Inspired by our fervent
Our valiant stride
Onto our dreams
We fling silver hello from star to star
My Friesian horse breaks fire underfoot
We reach the shores of our wildest dreams
If two is one then we.
poem by Mira Hafsi
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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Old Black Tom
My dad sold black Tom our old work-horse when he had known a better day
But what happened to him after that I do not know for to say
Suppose he was slaughtered for dog meat few work-horses of old age do die
To say that all work-horses become children pets would be telling a lie
Any way old black Tom would never have been any good as a child's pet
A few nips he gave to me I never will forget
Old Tom he was surely not gentle or quiet
And given the opportunity he surely would bite
Five out of ten for him would seem a fair score
He was a good work-horse that and nothing more
Not the finest equine west of Millstreet Town
For Tom the old rogue horse no such a renown
He was sold to a horse dealer more than three decades ago
And what happened to him after I cannot say I do know.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Picasso's Skull Caps Occupied Horses Falling
events blasts centre stages frog marches
occupied horses falling in countless agonies
run through spear javelin bayonet thrusts
large gaping torn wounds realities cruelties
horse's sides life bleeds potent swift years
devoured bull dictators devour ripe bellies
view human skull death brews demon changes
overlays victim horse's body escape crushed kneels
gore fleet horse freedom underneath deceptions
bull's horns gore tossed rent sacrifices flesh forms blood rivers
break escape equestrian front facing legs sanctuary sought shelters
seeks knee blood ground knee in groin leg's knee wobble forms
skull caps counting coup taken head's nose concussion bleeds
horn appears within horse's breast to savage despair steal souls
bull's tail forms images flame worship incendiary burning bombs
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Horses
The horses
Three horses graze on my land, one is a foal.
In the twilight and with gentle rain falling
they remind me of work horses of by gone
days when I steered the plough that made
furrows in dark, clean soil.
When I stroke their flanks the good aroma
of warm horse arises; dreams are endless.
In daylight they pretend to be boulders, but
even then they make the land serene.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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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Him My Wild Horse...I, the Chosen to Fly on HIS RIDE!
Eye Drop his translated name
In Portuguese just 'Pingo'
My Dearest Horse for so many rides we joined
Him, my brother, his horse and I
“Pingo” supposedly
'The Little Daddy's Boy's Horse'
But my brother he would drop
And scared the little boy was,
forever no horses he would ride...
Of “Pingo” he was afraid.
None’s to be on fault
The horse’s translated name was “Drop”
But truly just meant to join for a Gallop
'The Little Daddy's Boy afraid...
My Dad mad...No fun for me
YES! Let’s Swap!
There it was, all resolved.
'Pingo' forever now My Wild Horse
My brother and I on a run
My Dad Happy laud and proud
'Go Little Son', and all happy we were
Pingo and I, my brother and his friendly new horse
Following the horse tracks
Wild and Free, there we were
For our remarkable back horse rides
So what about the “Drop”?
Pingo and I jointly on flight no time to play
Any other act, Let’s Run My Wild Horse!
poem by Florida Angel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A nail secures the horse-shoe, the shoe the horse, the horse the man, the man the castle, and the castle the whole land.
The Glory of Man and Horse
Oh, the glory of the charge!
Man and horse to battle
Never an army too large
To stand in their way
Oh, the glory of the plains!
Man and horse to conquer
Battling wind and rains
To tame the far, far west
Oh, the glory of the sand!
Man and horse to test
Over the hot, dry land
To try their strength
Oh, the glory of the race!
Man and horse to run
Galloping a fearsome pace
To win that golden cup
poem by Horse Poet
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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The Wild Horse
(r. stewart/a. taylor)
Born and raised
In a motel in new orleans
I ran away
With a hobo and his gypsy friends
We rode a freight train up to cleveland
Across the utah plains
Proud men, troubadours torn and frayed
Sleeping under the stars
While gently strumming guitars
Played the songs of woddy guthrie
And the open road
I knew right then I could never go home
Cause the wild horse runs free forever
Oh yeah, a wild horse runs free forever
And ever and ever
I met a girl
From a family of position and wealth
What a hand
This rambler had been finally dealt
A beauty six years and ten
I felt the walls closing in
Like a swollen river
Bout to overflow
Like a losing gambler I kept on rolling
And a wild horse runs free forever
Yeah yeah yeah
A wild horse runs free forever
The wild horse runs free forever
Yeah yeah yeah
A wild horse runs free forever
Play the guitar
So understand I must go
But Ill drink you one last toast
Oh heres to the heart
And the hands of a man
That come with the dust
And are gone with the wind
May the wild horse run free forever
Yeah the wild horse runs free forever
The wild horse runs free forever
Yeah the wild horse run free forever
Wild guitar, baby, come on, wild
I know, I know, I know, I know
Play it for me, come on.
Yeah, hit it. yeah yeah. let me hear it, yeah.
The wild horse run free ...
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just a Horse
From time to time,
People tell me 'lighten up, it's just a horse.'
From time to time
People tell me, ' a lot of money spent'
From time to time
People tell me, 'it's just a horse.'
If you really think it's
'Just a horse, '
Like 'just a promise, '
'Just a friend, '
Than you can't see
The beauty of it all.
You just can't see.
The distance traveled,
The time spent,
And the costs involved for
'Just a horse.'
The reason to rise,
Early in the morning,
Taking those long walks,
Even when it's pouring.
It's my proudest moments,
My only company,
The saddest moments,
And the gentle touch,
That gave me a reason to go on.
It's the hopes and dreams,
And the coming of the future.
The fond memories of the past,
And the unforgettable joy of the coming day.
So...
If you really think it's,
'Just a horse, '
Like 'just a promise, '
'Just a friend, '
Than you can't see,
The beauty of it all.
You just can't see.
'Just a horse'
Brings out the best in me,
'Just a horse'
It gives me who I am and
Keeping me from being,
'Just a girl.'
'Just a woman'
'Just another passing being'
I'll smile and nod to agree,
knowing deep down I don't.
you may think it's 'just a horse, '
but it never will be for me.
If you really think it's,
'Just a horse, '
Like 'just a promise, '
'Just a friend, '
Than you can't see,
The beauty of it all.
You just can't see.
poem by Jess Schwarcz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As I Sit Upon My Horse
I sit upon my horse
And gaze at the field
A field of rippling grass
Blowing in the wind
I sit upon my horse
And gaze at the sky
A clear blue sky
Filled with clouds
I sit upon my horse
And gaze at the sun
A yellow sun up high
Shining on my face
I sit upon my horse
And gaze at this world
A world fashioned,
Created by my God
poem by Horse Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Horse Racing Legend
Along comes a horse
So powerful and sleek
He runs with his heart
Not his feet.
The heart of a champion
Is what this horse has
The looks of eagles in his eyes
Just as
He runs and runs with all his heart
While the crowd is awed with his amazing arts
He crosses the wire in first
And becomes a legend, know
In a time of need
This horse has shown power
He shows no fear
At the passing hour
From a broken-down claimer,
To a racer with heart
This horse has become
A Legend, no doubt
We all lose a few
But it doesn't matter much
If your a horse like this
With spirit and punch.
poem by Hannah Branz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boot and Saddle
I
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery gray,
Chorus. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
II
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay—
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
III
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array:
Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
IV
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
poem by Robert Bloomfield from Cavalier Tunes (1842)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Lovely To His Eyes (Hybridanelle)
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
in the distance there’s ploughing red Massy Ferguson tractor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain
His son is out there tracking the field
seems young, vital and strong
and it’s as if he has now got to yield
and the earth is soft underfoot after the rain.
and he’s still the administrator.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
and he still has some power to wield
and his eyes measure the ploughed field, the smell of fresh earth,
seems young, vital and strong
and he wonders how many years still remain
but the ache reminds him of the words of the doctor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain
that surrounds him, almost like a token of new birth
and the ardent Arabic horse knows its master well
and his eyes measure the ploughed field, the smell of fresh earth
and stretched out lies the farm that he has to maintain
and on the house’s thatched roof gleams the lightening conductor.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
and he horse acts with love, as if under his spell
and life is really great under the sun, wind and sky
and the ardent Arabic horse knows its master well
and from riding horses he have got to abstain,
but he keeps his face pleasant like that of an actor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain
everything is familiar like any other day, where he is saddled high
and he feels full of spirit
and life is really great under the sun, wind and sky
the farm stretches out lovely to his eyes without a stain
and he rides to the chicken coop and the incubator.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
and he bridles the horse and there is pain
and probably soon his only child will inherit.
His son is out there tracking the field
and he feels full of spirit
and it’s as if he has now got to yield.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Between My Horse's Wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
The wind rushing forcefully
Through my long dark hair
The feel of the cool air
Beneath the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy
The muscles work powerfully
To drive us into the night
The stars wink like little lights
Above the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As I ride over the ocean and sea
My muscles tense as I hold
My skin red from the windy cold
Flowing past the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
I revel in this dangerous ecstasy
A silvery mane blows in my face
Blown back, by the wind we race
Born on by the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As we fly through the air swiftly
My face is lifted toward the sky
Arms outstretched, wind rushing by
The beating of the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
Faster and faster, we seem to fly
The wind tugging at my body
As I look to the heavenly bodies
Shining on the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
My horse flies gracefully
Over the fields and streams
Are these things only my dreams?
Sitting between the horse’s wings
poem by Horse Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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