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Best Famous Neck And Neck Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Neck And Neck poems. This is a select list of the best famous Neck And Neck poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Neck And Neck poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of neck and neck poems.

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Written by Barry Tebb | Create an image from this poem

A Call To Arms

 It was like chucking-out time

In a rough Victorian pub

Cherubic Dylan was first to go

Lachrymose but with a show

Of strength, yelling "Buggerall,

Buggerall, this is my boat-house

In Laugherne, these are my books,

My prizes, I ride every wave-crest,

My loves are legion. What’s this

You’re saying about fashion?

Others follow where I lead,

Schoolchildren copy my verse,

No anthology omits me

Put me down! Put me down!

George Barker was too far gone

To take them on

And moaned about a list

In a crystal cave of making beneath

The basement of the Regent Street

Polytechnic.

Edith Sitwell was rigid in a carved

High-backed chair, regally aloof,

Her ringed fingers gripping the arms,

Her eyes flashing diamonds of contempt.

"A la lampe! A la lampe!"

A serious fight broke out in the saloon bar

When they tried to turf Redgrove out:

His image of the poet as violent man

Broke loose and in his turtle-necked

Seaman’s jersey he shouted,

"Man the barricades!"

A tirade of nature-paths and voters

For a poetry of love mixed it with

The chuckers-out; Kennedy, Morley

And Hulse suffered a sharp repulse.

Heath-Stubbs was making death stabs

With his blindman’s stick at the ankles

Of detractors from his position under

The high table of chivalry, intoning

A prayer to raise the spirit

Of Sidney Keyes.

Geoffrey Hill had Merlin and Arthur

Beside him and was whirling an axe

To great effect, headless New Gen poets

Running amok.

Andrew Crozier was leading a counter-attack

With Caddy and Hinton neck and neck

And Silkin was quietly garrotting

While he kept on smiling.

Price Turner was so happy at the slaughter

He hanged himself in a corner

And Hughes brought the Great White Boar

To wallow in all the gore

While I rode centaur

Charles Tomlinson had sent for.


Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

Kathleen

 It was the steamer Alice May that sailed the Yukon foam.
And touched in every river camp from Dawson down to Nome.
It was her builder, owner, pilot, Captain Silas Geer,
Who took her through the angry ice, the last boat of the year;
Who patched her cracks with gunny sacks and wound her pipes with wire,
And cut the spruce upon the banks to feed her boiler fire;
Who headed her into the stream and bucked its mighty flow,
And nosed her up the little creeks where no one else would go;
Who bragged she had so small a draft, if dew were on the grass,
With gallant heart and half a start his little boat would pass.
Aye, ships might come and ships might go, but steady every year
The Alice May would chug away with Skipper Silas Geer.

Now though Cap geer had ne'er a fear the devil he could bilk,
He owned a gastric ulcer and his grub was mostly milk.
He also owned a Jersey cow to furnish him the same,
So soft and sleek and mild and meek, and Kathleen was her name.
And so his source of nourishment he got to love her so
That everywhere the captain went the cow would also go;
And though his sleeping quarters were ridiculously small,
He roped a section of them off to make Kathleen a stall.
So every morn she'd wake him up with mellifluous moo,
And he would pat her on the nose and go to wake the crew.
Then when he'd done his daily run and hitched on to the bank,
She'd breath above his pillow till to soothing sleep he sank.
So up and down the river seeded sourdoughs would allow,
They made a touching tableau, Captain Silas and his cow.

Now as the Captain puffed his pipe and Kathleen chewed her cud,
There came to him a poetess, a Miss Belinda Budd.
"An epic I would write," said she, "about this mighty stream,
And from your gallant bark 'twould be romantic as a dream."
Somewhat amazed the Captain gazed at her and shook his head;
"I'm sorry, Miss, but we don't take she passengers," he said.
"My boat's a freighter, we have no accommodation space
For women-folk - my cabin is the only private palce.
It's eight foot small from wall to wall, and I have, anyhow,
No room to spare, for half I share with Kathleen, That's my cow."
The lady sighed, then soft replied: "I love your Yukon scene,
And for its sake your room I'll take, and put up with Kathleen."

Well, she was so dead set to go the Captain said: "By heck!
I like your *****; you take my bunk and I'll camp on the deck."
So days went by then with a sigh she sought him so anew:
"Oh, Captain Geer, Kathleen's a dear, but does she have to moo?
In early morn like motor horn she bellows overhead,
While all the night without respite she snores above my bed.
I know it's true she dotes on you, your smile she seems to miss;
She leans so near I live in fear my brow she'll try to kiss.
Her fond regard makes it so hard my Pegasus to spur...
Oh, please be kind and try to find another place for her."

Bereft of cheer was captain Geer; his face was glazed with gloom:
He scratched his head: "There ain't," he said, "another inch of room.
With freight we're packed; it's stowed and stacked - why even on the deck.
There's seven salted sourdoughs and they're sleeping neck and neck.
I'm sorry, Miss, that Kathleen's kiss has put your muse to flight;
I realize her amber eyes abstract you when you write.
I used to love them orbs above a-shining down on me,
And when she'd chew my whickers you can't calculate my glee.
I ain't at all poetical, but gosh! I guess your plight,
So I will try to plan what I can fix up for to-night."

Thus while upon her berth the wan and weary Author Budd
Bewailed her fate, Kathleen sedate above her chewed her cud;
And as he sought with brain distraught a steady course to steer,
Yet find a plan, a worried man was Captain Silas Geer.
Then suddenly alert was he, he hollerred to his mate;
"Hi, Patsy, press our poetess to climb on deck and wait.
Hip-hip-hooray! Bid her be gay and never more despair;
My search is crowned - by heck, I've found an answer to her prayer."

To Patsy's yell like glad gazelle came bounding Bardess Budd;
No more forlorn, with hope new-born she faced the foaming flood;
While down the stair with eager air was seen to disappear,
Like one inspired (by genius fired) exultant Captain Geer.
Then up he came with eye aflame and honest face aglow,
And oh, how loud he laughed, as proud he led her down below.
"Now you may write by day or night upon our Yukon scene,
For I," he cried, "have clarified the problem of Kathleen.
I thought a lot, then like a shot the remedy I found:
I jest unhitched her rope and switched the loving creature round.
No more her moo will trouble you, you'll sleep right restful now.
Look, Lady, look! - I'm giving you... the tail end of the cow."
Written by Andrew Barton Paterson | Create an image from this poem

The Wargeilah Handicap

 Wargeilah town is very small, 
There's no cathedral nor a club, 
In fact the township, all in all, 
Is just one unpretentious pub; 
And there, from all the stations round, 
The local sportsmen can be found. 

The sportsmen of Wargeilah-side 
Are very few but very fit; 
There's scarcely any sport been tried 
But they can hold their own at it; 
In fact, to search their records o'er, 
They hold their own and something more. 

The precincts of Wargeilah town 
An English new-chum did infest: 
He used to wander up and down 
In baggy English breeches drest; 
His mental aspect seemed to be 
Just stolid self-sufficiency. 

The local sportsmen vainly sought 
His tranquil calm to counteract 
By urging that he should be brought 
Within the Noxious Creatures Act. 
"Nay, harm him not," said one more wise, 
"He is a blessing in disguise! 

"You see, he wants to buy a horse, 
To ride, and hunt, and steeplechase, 
And carry ladies, too, of course, 
And pull a cart, and win a race. 
Good gracious! he must be a flat 
To think he'll get a horse like that! 

"But, since he has so little sense 
And such a lot of cash to burn, 
We'll sell him some experience 
By which alone a fool can learn. 
Suppose we let him have The Trap 
To win Wargeilah Handicap!" 

And her, I must explain to you 
That round about Wargeilah run 
There lived a very aged screw 
Whose days of brilliancy were done. 
A grand old warrior in his prime -- 
But age will beat us any time. 

A trooper's horse in seasons past 
He did his share to keep the peace, 
But took to falling, and at last 
Was cast for age from the Police. 
A publican at Conroy's Gap 
Bought him and christened him The Trap. 

When grass was good and horses dear, 
He changed his owner now and then 
At prices ranging somewhere near 
The neighbourhood of two-pound-ten: 
And manfully he earned his keep 
By yarding cows and ration sheep. 

They brought him in from off the grass 
And fed and groomed the old horse up; 
His coat began to shine like glass -- 
You'd think he'd win the Melbourne Cup. 
And when they'd got him fat and flash 
They asked the new chum -- fifty -- cash! 

And when he said the price was high, 
Their indignation knew no bounds. 
They said, "It's seldom you can buy 
A horse like that for fifty pounds! 
We'll refund twenty if The Trap 
Should fail to win the handicap!" 

The deed was done, the price was paid, 
The new-chum put the horse in train. 
The local sports were much afraid 
That he would sad experience gain 
By racing with some shearer's hack, 
Who'd beat him half-way round the track. 

So, on this guileless English spark 
They did most fervently impress 
That he must keep the matter dark, 
And not let any person guess 
That he was purchasing The Trap 
To win Wargeilah Handicap. 

They spoke of "spielers from the Bland", 
And "champions from the Castlereagh", 
And gave the youth to understand 
That all of these would stop away, 
And spoil the race, if they should hear 
That they had got The Trap to fear. 

"Keep dark! They'll muster thick as flies 
When once the news gets sent around 
We're giving such a splendid prize -- 
A Snowdon horse worth fifty pound! 
They'll come right in from Dandaloo, 
And find -- that it's a gift for you!" 

The race came on -- with no display 
Nor any calling of the card, 
But round about the pub all day 
A crowd of shearers, drinking hard, 
And using language in a strain 
'Twere flattery to call profane. 

Our hero, dressed in silk attire -- 
Blue jacket and scarlet cap -- 
With boots that shone like flames of fire, 
Now did his canter on The Trap, 
And walked him up and round about, 
Until other steeds came out. 

He eyed them with a haughty look, 
But saw a sight that caught his breath! 
It was Ah John! the Chinee cook! 
In boots and breeches! pale as death! 
Tied with a rope, like any sack, 
Upon a piebald pony's back! 

The next, a colt -- all mud and burrs, 
Half-broken, with a black boy up, 
Who said, "You gim'me pair o' spurs, 
I win the bloomin' Melbourne Cup!" 
These two were to oppose The Trap 
For the Wargeilah Handicap! 

They're off! The colt whipped down his head, 
And humped his back, and gave a squeal, 
And bucked into the drinking shed, 
Revolving like a Catherine wheel! 
Men ran like rats! The atmosphere 
Was filled with oaths and pints of beer! 

But up the course the bold Ah John 
Beside The Trap raced neck and neck: 
The boys had tied him firmly on, 
Which ultimately proved his wreck; 
The saddle turned, and, like a clown, 
He rode some distance upside-down. 

His legs around the horse were tied, 
His feet towards the heavens were spread, 
He swung and bumped at every stride 
And ploughed the ground up with his head! 
And when they rescued him, The Trap 
Had won Wargeilah Handicap! 

And no enquiries we could make 
Could tell by what false statements swayed 
Ah John was led to undertake 
A task so foreign to his trade! 
He only smiled and said, "Hoo Ki! 
I stop topside, I win all li'!" 

But never in Wargeilah Town 
Was heard so eloquent a cheer 
As when the President came down, 
And toasted, in Colonial beer, 
"The finest rider on the course! 
The winner of the Snowdon Horse! 

"You go and get your prize," he said; 
"He's with a wild mob, somewhere round 
The mountains near the Watershed; 
He's honestly worth fifty pound -- 
A noble horse, indeed, to win, 
But none of us can run him in! 

"We've chased him poor, we've chased him fat, 
We've run him till our horses dropped; 
But by such obstacles as that 
A man like you will not be stopped; 
You'll go and yard him any day, 
So here's your health! Hooray! Hooray!" 

The day wound up with booze and blow 
And fights till all were well content. 
But of the new-chum all I know 
Is shown by this advertisement -- 
"For sale, the well-known racehorse Trap. 
He won Wargeilah Handicap!"
Written by Robert Browning | Create an image from this poem

How They Brought The Good News From Ghent To Aix

 I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;
I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;
"Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew;
"Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through;
Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest,
And into the midnight we galloped abreast.

Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace
Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place;
I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight,
Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right,
Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit,
Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.

'Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near
Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear;
At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see;
At Duffeld, 'twas morning as plain as could be;
And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half-chime,
So Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time!"

At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun,
And against him the cattle stood black every one,
To stare through the mist at us galloping past,
And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last,
With resolute shoulders, each butting away
The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray:

And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back
For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track;
And one eye's black intelligence,—ever that glance
O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance!
And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon
His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.

By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, "Stay spur!
Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her,
We'll remember at Aix"—for one heard the quick wheeze
Of her chest, saw the stretched neck and staggering knees,
And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank,
As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank.

So, we were left galloping, Joris and I,
Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky;
The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh,
'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff;
Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white,
And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!"

"How they'll greet us!"—and all in a moment his roan
Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone;
And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight
Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,
With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim,
And with circles of red for his eye-socket's rim.

Then I cast loose my buffcoat, each holster let fall,
Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all,
Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear,
Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer;
Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good,
Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood.

And all I remember is—friends flocking round
As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground;
And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine,
As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine,
Which (the burgesses voted by common consent)
Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent
Written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox | Create an image from this poem

My Comrade

 Out from my window westward 
I turn full oft my face; 
But the mountains rebuke the vision 
That would encompass space; 
They lift their lofty foreheads 
To the kiss of the clouds above, 
And ask, "With all our glory, 
Can we not win your love?"

I answer, "No, oh mountains! 
I see that you are grand; 
But you have not the breadth and beauty 
Of the fields in my own land; 
You narrow my range of vision 
And you even shut from me 
The voice of my old comrade, 
The West Wind wild and free."

But to-day I climbed the mountains 
On the back of a snow-white steed, 
And the West Wind came to greet me-- 
He flew on the wings of speed. 
His charger, and mine that bore me, 
Went gaily neck to neck, 
Till the town in the valley belkow us 
Looked like a small, dark speck.

And oh! what tales he whispered 
As he rode there by me, 
Of friends whose smiling faces 
I am so soon to see. 
And the mountains frowned in anger, 
Because I balked their spite, 
And met my old-time comrade 
There on their very height;

But I laughed up in their faces, 
As I rode slowly back, 
While the Wind went faster and faster, 
Like a race-horse on the track.



Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry