Wild horses
It’s simple
Life is reborn every day
Don’t bother with vain reasoning
Don’t stumble into blind alleys of thought
Life revives every day
You must know that
It clatters in front of you
Like a herd of wild horses
Pick a horse
Grab his mane and hop on his back
All of them are headed the same way
The important thing is the road taking you there
Show the horse who’s the boss
Dig your heels into his ribs
You’re riding through sunny thickets
Over fields where the grass grows sweetly
And the shadows are softer than women’s flanks
Learn your horse’s vices
Teach him your own
If he happens to be vicious and throws you off
Don’t worry
Jump up on another horse
Plenty of to choose from
The herd is endless
There’ll always be one for you
Life is reborn every day
Do you know that?
poem by Betim Muco

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

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Horse and Rider
The prairie blows the grasses
And whips the horse’s mane.
They travel, horse and rider,
Through the sea of amber grain
Hills roll by, and clouds pass
But steady are the horse’s hooves
Upon the wind blown grass
As they travel, horse and rider
There is no trail that they follow
No path that can be seen
There they travel, horse and rider
Upon the endless blowing green
poem by Horse Poet

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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Horse and Rider
The prairie blows the grasses
And whips the horse’s mane.
They travel, horse and rider,
Through the sea of amber grain
Hills roll by, and clouds pass
But steady are the horse’s hooves
Upon the wind blown grass
As they travel, horse and rider
There is no trail that they follow
No path that can be seen
There they travel, horse and rider
Upon the endless blowing green
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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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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Red Dirt Cowgirl
Nature grows the weeds and grasses
The wind whips the horse's mane.
They travel, horse and a pretty cowgirl
Through a land that starts with Maine
There is no trail that they follow
No red dirt roads to be seen
Here they travel, horse and rider
Upon the endless fields of green
Is this real, or is this make believe
The horse glides on through the night
Searching ever searching for red dirt
With a neon moon providing the only light
Is this real, or is this make believe
Will a red dirt road become a reality
We look toward the western sky
And feel the sweat as the wind rushes by
There on a distance horizon... Wow!
Is that fabulous red dirt road ever so proud
Just across a few more fields and streams
Is that ultimate answer to our many dreams
poem by John McCornack

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Riding The Dark Horse
Riding along on the dark horse of sadness.
Each day or night.
The dark horse is my companion.
We ride through life.
On a dark stream of light.
Riding along side is depression.
My second companion.
We ride together in search of happiness.
We never find.
Riding the dark horse through this life.
I'm filled with sorrow.
Tears are inside.
As I reflect on my journey through life.
I see that the dark horse has always been,
what I ride.
The dark horse of sorrow.
Has always been by my side.
I will continue to ride,
The dark horse in this life.
Until I die.
Exchanging the dark horse for white,
as I cross the great divide.
Entering the gates of life on the other side.
Where happiness I may finally find.
Leaving the dark horse of sorrow behind.
Taking the two companions,
sorrow and depression with me.
As I ride to the other side.
Changing their apperance to laughter and joy.
As I dismount on heaven's shore.
Filled with so much joy.
As I look back on my journey.
That I rode to heavens door.
I finally see the beauty of my companions.
That rode with me upon life's shores.
They changed before my eyes.
Becoming laughter and joy.
Beautiful spirits of love to behold.
That rode on the dark horse of life with me.
Till reaching heavens shore.
poem by Weeping Willow

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Troy
I’ve been counting down the days to
see the shoeing of my beautiful horse
bandit
he has bad feet because
he was run hard in barrel racing
and put away wet
by the people who owned him before I did
I was taking my last ride on him
for the week
or that’s what I thought
at 3pm troy drove up
I told him all the angles he needed to shoe
my baby
I let him be and do his thing
I came back a hour latter see how he was doing
and to offer some water
cause of
the kind hearted person I am
he said I may have to stay off bandit for a while
I didn’t think that meant
A WHOLE YEAR
that man messed bandit’s feet up so bad that now
I couldn’t ride him for a year
it wasn’t fair to bandit he didn’t do anything
to deserve a whole year of pain
It wasn’t fair to me either cause
that is one of the strongest way to build your confidence up
and bond with your horse
I love riding horses
I have 11 other horses
I have to ride on a normal day
but bandit is my baby
and my best friend
and when you mess with my friends
you’ve crossed the line
but when you’ve messed with my horse
if I could I’ll screw over your life
cause when you do that you’ve gone way to far
y’all
my horse is my best friend
my companion
my bond for life
my everything
why my horse troy
why bandit
why troy
poem by Mrs. Cynosure

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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

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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 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 Fork in the Road
A fork in the road
A choice to be made
A prayer on the lips
Which way to go?
A cowboy on his horse
A blue sky overhead
A decision to make
To trust God or not?
A man riding the plains
A horse underneath
Pondering this question
“Is it enough for me? ”
A rider on his knees
A horse stands behind
A soul is now saved
Let all heaven rejoice!
poem by Horse Poet

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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 confusing of horse and donkey
There was a man
riding on a horse
horse have a mark of cross
horse saw a monkey
and from horse comes out a donkey
poem by Shahzeb Azhar

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Brown Horses
The brownness of a rider and his horse carried his horse,
A major and great horsemanship approached the brown horse.
There was magnetism, speech of behaviour, with the horseman
Who was riding his animal of great pleasurableness.
To please this pleasure was great, but the riding housed a rider
Who had spectators looking in this and that direction.
An insect was a smaller kind of animal, housing a rider,
But animals like horses of brown worked hard and fast,
Too praiseworthy, in a gamble, far too important and big.
The brown horses had shadows with the hospitals,
A novel became written of them, of their health and waists.
poem by Naveed Akram

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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

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Mary's Gators
Mary had a little horse
the horse was just a pony,
the horse had hooves and balls of course
but ate no maccaroni.
She led the horse back to her flat
they took the elevator,
at night the horse slept on a mat
next to an alligator.
As you can tell, this lady had
a screw loose in her bonnet,
she wasn't altogether bad
that's why I write no sonnet.
A sonnet would be all too clear
and show hat she was mental,
but she was really such a dear,
we'll call it accidental.
The horse grew slowly, as they do
the gator did much faster,
one day, it did, out of the blue
it happened. A disaster.
The gator ate the horse at lunch
and had a pudding later.
Don't know for sure but have a hunch,
she bought another gator.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich

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Any Opportunity I Can Get
Which view,
In your opinion...
Has more of an advantage,
From a horse drawn cart?
The one riding as a passenger,
While sitting in the front?
Or the one from the back,
With nothing but the rear of the horse to see?
'That's difficult to answer.
I have grown very attached to gardening.
And any opportunity I can get,
To collect free manure...
I jump and grab it immediately.
On the other hand...
Some of that indecisive crap,
I hear coming from the mouths of those...
Riding along AND ignoring the view,
Provides for me no benefit at all.
And I can tell from the horse's expression,
There is something I do with something 'he' does...
I am getting for free!
And at his expense.
And I can tell by the look in his eyes,
He has become suspicious as to why...
When I ride,
I am the only one who feeds him carrots! '
I see!
So you prefer the rear view?
'That depends on the time of the year.
And what I am willing,
To sit through to listen and hear.
Some crap is more beneficial than others.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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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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