HORSE FROM MARS
It came from the sky, a gray silver stallion.
I looked up high, and I have also seen a dragon.
With so many things in this universe.
I'm on stand-by with a camera in my purse.
Who would have known I'd be the first to spot a PEGASUS.
The town folks wave hi every time I walk my hippopotamus.
I enjoy showing everyone, my pictures of a flying horse.
I don't see why they call a DOCTOR every time I call the TASK FORCE
I think they are jealous over all the things I've seen.
They act all crazy since I sighted a LEPRECHAUN when I was fourteen.
No one ever believed me when I saw an army of dragonflies.
They have a name for me "the boy who See's too much in the skies!"
I don't know why they can't see what I see.
For all I know they are all experiments under Alien Technology.
They don't believe me how I got this magic MEDALLION.
It was a friendly gift from the silver stallion.
I also have many pictures of a UNICORN.
We became best-friends when he gave me a piece of its magic horn.
We sat together while he drank from the lake.
We enjoyed talking, --talking about how U.F.O.'s are fake.
Why can't they see? The day I fell off a boat, I got rescued by a MERMAID!
Who would have known a mermaid swim around with first-aid.
I also remember the day I followed a LEPRECHAUNS.
We were playing under the rainbow having so much fun.
When I told my doctor about all the things I've seen.
He locked me in a DUNGEON, thinking I was the ALIEN QUEEN.
I begged and I told him I don't believe in any type of alien.
Too bad the master of this dungeon came from another region.
In a way he looks like that one SILVER STALLION from Mars.
The first creature I'd seen the day I fell off the monkey bars.
I have this picture of this horse of course.
JUST help me out of this white-jacket!!! ;-)
If you want to see the coolest picture of a flying horse.
(A small collaboration with: B-Boy)
re-post for ~FUNNY CONTEST
It took me a steel horse with wings of feather
To ride me through heavy thunder clouds
Through troubles and struggles it led me..
Knowing there would be sunshine behind those heavy clouds
Riding on top of black and darkened storm clouds
Knowing at some point I needed to dive into it
The steel horses`armored exterior withstood it all..
Hail,lightning,furious turbolence combined with unhuman forces
Sunlight drying me face as my steel horse leads me out of it
Now wings of feather takes over,and smoothly we drift towards the sun..
September 9th 2012
I have a to- do list cos I am thirty this year
Top of the agenda is to ride bareback through fire
Done many things in my short life
My twenty todo list did cause me strife
Wanted to walk on wings flying way up above
My bravery ran out they had to give me a shove
I did it, i perused the land from on high
What a beautiful thing, this variable sky
Back to the circus ring, my stomach did flip
Thoughts of why the heck did i think of this
Brought out this Black Stallion with nostrils aflare
Grabbed hold of his mane he gave me a stare.
We hadnt even started yet
my hands they did sweat
Then I saw the large ring, no flames afire
Wanted to slink off and forget i was here
As I got up close my nostrils held that smell
The oily rags lit up were as hot as hell
Lit up was like a giant firework display
Riding through it, oh my did i pray
The horse didnt flinch as I fell around his neck and cried
Thank you Black Stallion for being a safe steed
I’m riding your horse, no giddyap allowed,
simply plunge into the deepest unknown.
Your voice sets the pace, it whispers
into the ears of my ride, sometimes they twitch
sometimes they find water, sometimes
the waterfalls absorb all thought. I lean
over neck, sample horse blood like a vampire,
like a computer’s command mode
taking over my brain, allowing my heart
to beat in tune, my feet to turn to hooves
and kick up or canter, moving with the rhythm
and flow, feeling the sweat of the sun
overhead and the damp of shady pines
and raking the grasses until they rustle over skin.
This is how I know you: the whisper on the wind
the stroke along my frame, the bed stead
in which I dream, the places of unimagined
like a lure, a bait, overtaking me, leading
me down a road I’ve never found
until you lent the movement of ride forever.
With bent torso, fenced horse Corso,
Tows corpulent gent Morse into a Kent forest.
This portly source torments tense Corso to such a contentious extent
That he sends them off course with vehement force to show his discontent.
“Whoa”, vents the incensed Morse
With voice tense and hoarse from onerous discourse.
“Endorse a gentle course,
And dissent from one so dense and coarse.”
With sore torso resentment, Corso forewent his horse-sense and sent
Enormous Morse into a torrential watercourse from Trent.
“You senseless, offensive, violent horse,”
Chorused the tortured, drenched Morse.
Yet, Morse lamented and swore to descent his portly content,
As soon as Corso implements his chores back in Kent.
And to mend his sores
From his hell-bent horse,
Reinvented Morse reinforced his orders
By tensing the cords toward extensive fence borders.
With a consenting snort for repented gent Morse,
The contented horse, relented pretenses and wended a short decent course.
For Sheri's couplet contest
Ladies dress up, looking their best
Pretty clothes chosen just to impress
Perfumed and pretty the ladies in high heels
Their menfolk look keen and prepare to do deals
It’s Ladies Day, at Ascot, an important event
For spending one’s money and not paying the rent
The crowd roars and cheers with tipsy excitement
Champagne overflows with the toffs and the titled
The royals parade for the eager crowd
Top hats lifted and politeness all round.
The fine horses parade sweating and anxious
Whilst trainers give jockeys tips for the action
Bookmakers sing out the odds for punters
Whilst tic tac men send secret codes to funders
Favourites are picked for substantial bets
Whilst outsiders are chosen by those with large debts
The stalls are opened and the horses surge out
Whips crack, and jockeys curse mounts
The favourite pushes through so beautifully
And the no hopers go backwards for all to see
The favourite is a winner just by a nod
the crowd cheers and eagerly collect their huge wads
For the beaten it is a day to try to forget
And the losing tickets flutter down with regret
The racegoers journey back home, fortunes spent
Whilst their ladies plan for next year’s event
< Horses and snowflakes
Illuminating to it's tongue's pallet's plate
Open carriage rides
Falling flakes in the eyes
City strewn lights
Hoof's echoing through out the night
Cider drank it
New York's Central Park
An home for many after dark
Four miles of bridal paths
Drawn coaches to bring you back
So horses and snowflakes
Fills this ones poet's pallet's plate
Written By Katherine Stella
My Theme Was Both
Horses And Snowflakes
This Is An Entry
For Constance ~A Rambling Poet 's ~ Contest
THIS IS HOW LIFE FEELS WHEN YOU GET TO BE MY AGE
I have a general philosophical precept
Life is in general a bowl of cherries except
When someone stabs me in the back who didn’t oughta
From a completely unexpected quarter
I mean it’s ok if some dude whom I don’t like or trust
Has a go at me and feels he must
But if my wife tells me I continually bug her with my fidgets
And then she runs off with a team of one-legged circus midgets
Or my kids sell their hand-bound volumes of my poems
To buy a ton of horse manure to mix with the garden loams
And even the cat turns down my offer of warm milk
To go next door and sleep on sheets of silk
Or if a poetry contest excludes me simply because my name
Is unacceptable, maybe because I am black, or lacking in fame,
Or because I’m Methodist, and gay, and Republican, and from East Lansing,
Then I say to myself, well here’s the thing:
If, along with my poem entry, I’ve slipped in fifty bucks,
Well then how can I be excluded? I mean shucks -
Rules is rules but when I’ve already paid to be in the winners’ list
I feel I have the right, and I just gotta insist,
Cos midgets and fidgets don’t amount to squat
And sheets of silk or loads of horse manure is a lot
But my name’s my pride and joy and I am proud to add it
(But I fear to do it again in this contest or I’ve had it),
So in this contest I will remain anonymous
Though I guess the details writ here are just about synonymous
With a name I do not dare speak - at risk of exclusion
But I’m pretty sure this extra fifty bucks will lessen the confusion.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written - with great affection - for
Nancy Jones's Contest "This is how life feels when you get to be my age..."
My dappled, spotted horses are running free and wild,
on a day full of summer breezy wind, they prance, dance and glide.
June 14, 2013
For the contest, A Summer Couplet
Alone I stand, the blasted thorn,
Devoid of leaves and all forlorn,
A sentinel for countless years,
Of storms and gales I have no fears.
Ignored by man and sheep and rook
Into the vale I longing, look,
O’er Uffington I survey, long,
As through my twigs a mournful song
Is whispered by the Western wind.
Against the slope I’m firmly pinned,
In ancient chalk my roots are bound
In sight, below, of dragon’s mound.
Unchanging down the ages, I,
Stark silhouette against the sky
And visitors espy me still
Abandoned here, on White Horse Hill.
my horse runs freely wild my curls run like a river's child into mad battle run arror spear gun through his shirt blood did not run until they came for the Gold hills to run his horse once more freely to fulfill as by his own blood his runs betrayed a spirit quenched by a greedy stave
I love a dark horse in the running,
All feisty with so much cunning
It's funny what they say you can't do
Simply put, they have no clue
Wonderful when it is a shock
With a splattering of talent and luck
Everyone doubts your skill,
They have no idea of your will
Listen to the message they send,
They will be standing at the end
Color that desire stunning
I love a dark horse in the running
Death rides a horse coal black-
Thee must know you shall not slack-
Run away, his red flame mane-
Unto all it is in vain-
For unto death, knows no laws-
Cannot tell, humanly flaws-
He rides in darkness every night-
Vain it is to run or fight-
Death rides a horse coal black-
Thee must know you shall not slack-
Why Mine of Course or Much Better and Not Worse
What length of poem will people and poets prefer?
Like long, medium, short or not know for sure
Which through all agreeable ages will endure
And maybe a form of prose which may be pure.
How about Shakespeare who you love so dear?
Or some other poet seeming kind of queer
Who is with his horse and both are lost;
Must be my favorite old friend Robert Frost.
Do you know any poets who sing acapello?
Who is a poetic leader by name of Longfellow
Someone clever and funny who will well-suit
It's Ogden Nash not Republican named Newt.
When on a firing range we may fire at will
Who is Rogers not of Dodgers and fills my bill
If you want Horn sense of humor with no remorse
My poems are best at making you merry of course.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
This is the angry mind
Of a whining Horse
All it does detest
Is the Race Course
A reason there is
To loath the Race Track;
The goad, the spur and
Rider on the back,
Digging stirrups on flanks
While he blows fiery lips
Aquiline force to stir
By the crack of whips
And when it’s over
Jockey being a winner
He dons best suit
And forget the whiner!
Hanging with Friends
To enjoy the win
He condemns the Horse
To disdain’s empty bin!
How many times he wins
He’ll continue in hay
Diet will not change
Till his last living day.
14th Nov’ 2013
A horse drawn carriage is the way to go,
It’s all about relaxing and taking it slow;
The gentle rocking motion you feel,
To me it holds only the greatest appeal;
The scent of horse and leather in the air,
A gentle breeze, the wind in your hair;
The clipity-clop of hooves on the street,
No other transportation can compete!
~For Barbara Gorelick's contest~
The smartest cavaliers at the command 'To horse!'
contrive to be in time for both a horse and whores.
New Poetry Movement and Not Bowel
I really had to be muchly griping;
What I hate the worst is filing and typing;
Out of my life wish you could take those two
And my attitude would improve, that is true.
In poetry, maybe might start a new movement
And trend that into many hearts has sent
A new way so many poems thou shalt write;
Poems will come tougher and never, ever fight.
So you should think about this for a while;
Now that you have discovered my new style
You now can come up with a lot more clarity
By bring things together and cutting the disparity.
Have I caused things to be confusing
By brain washing and words mis-using.
Oh, and I checked off horse as a category.
They should add the word sense to it though.
I’m standing here so nervous, just about to pass out
Terror has it’s grip on me-I’m filled to the brim with doubt
My palms are sweaty and itchy, I’m having trouble holding on,
What in the heck was I thinking, I should’ve just withdrawn;
Now Luck can sense my fear and he’s prancing side to side,
On the outside I might be smiling but my gut is twisting inside;
The judge is getting closer now, should I be on the left or right,
Wracking my brain to remember, no one knows of my plight;
I step around my horse’s nose, he’s finally standing still,
The Judge is looking Luck up and down with terrifying skill;
Things are flashing through my mind, I check them one by one,
Did I clip his ears, Did I paint his hoofs, I refuse to be outdone;
The Judge is almost finished now, he tips his hat to me,
I dip mine back and he moves on-I breathe a sigh of relief;
Now all we have to do is wait for his final judgment call,
I whisper softly to Lucky, “Soon you’ll be back in your stall”;
Waiting now is the hardest part, hoping we did alright,
A top ten would be amazing, if not we gave them a good fight;
A backwoods girl competing in such a prestigious show,
How Luck and me made it this far, I honestly don’t know;
The Judge is handing off his card, the results are about to be read,
My heart is pounding harder now, my body filled with dread;
They start at number 10 then count down to First Place,
10 is called, then 9, then 8-I hang my head in disgrace;
I’m certain now that we didn’t place, my dreams are shattered in two,
I shake my head in disappointment-So much for our debut;
“First Place number 6-6-2 handling Lucky White Star”
I’m sure I didn’t hear him right, A cruel joke by far;
I stand there stunned to silence, then make my way to the gate,
Why on earth did he pick us, My questions will have to wait
I grab the blue and pin it on my Luck Mans haltered head
Truthfully I’d have been happy with Yellow, White, or Red
Shocked and stunned by this happy turn, I show my boy off proud
I was hoping for a top ten but my First place won the crowd!
~For the Top 10 Contest~
Way out in space in what's called the dark hole.
There's a place that many know of and many have been told.
It's a place where the final space ship is being built.
And men are sending materials each day the way they live.
If you know the Builder and have accepted His Son.
Then your part of the spaceship will someday be done.
But friend if you don't know Him, then get in the groove.
And start sending material so that spaceship soon can move.
The space ship won't consist of metals, bolts, and screws.
But the prayers of the faithful, and for those who did choose.
It will fly through space in the twinkling of an eye,
And many of you reading this may never have to die.
The Pilot of the space ship that I'm writing about.
Is none other than the Christ Child from Christmas, there's no doubt.
But He won't be a baby this time when He comes.
But will be the King of Kings and Lord of Lords and some folks will run.
He'll give up this spaceship for a white horse to ride.
And the Bible says everyone will see Him and no one can hide.
hurry I said! we must get away!
they're closing on us, no time for delay!
the horror began the year 'fore last,
and most were dead before it passed,
a mighty wave! ten buildings tall!
came rushing through, and drowning all!
........... it came alive, survivors say,
pray first night after! the terror o'er bay,
the heavy gray fog, it hung so low,
and terrible winds began to blow!
bobbing along beyond the pier,
the horse and head filled souls with fear!
night after night the same path it took,
just past the docks, the waves it shook!
never closer it came, to frighten thee,
'till you strangled the air! and cursed the sea!
O vengeance it seeks! your soul it will take!
just seconds to live! prepare for your wake!
hurry I said! we must get away!
they're closing on us, no time for delay!
Along time ago just the other day
I saw a magic horse who flew my way
Well all in all jackpot in hand
It flew me off to a distant land
A place where the Land meets the Sea
We landed there this horse and me
Somethings in life should not go to waste
Such was the beauty of this special place
Secluded and surrounded by sheer rock walls
With an abundance of beautiful waterfalls
Creating rainbows that filled the skies
Oh, This place was beautiful to the eyes
As I looked all around at the giant ferns
Into my heart this place did burn
While listening to the beat of the sea
We had a picnic this horse and me
Then down the beach we took us a walk
And without a word we had us a talk
Life is full of many wonderful things
Like my flying Mustang with golden wings
Written by Michaela and I