Best Halter Poems
When he emigrated to North Dakota
Daddy came to help fill needed quota
Of young, strong men of honest worth
For untamed land at its new birth.
He met my mother, strong as he,
Raised seven kids including me.
He broke wild mustangs to the halter
And from cold or heat would never falter.
The settlers in this brand new land
Weren’t looking for the wild cow-hand,
The drifter who’d collect his pay,
Then casually be on his way.
Some would then join an outlaw band,
Before the law came to the land.
Though their kind earned infamous glory,
Men like my dad were the real story.
North Dakota had only been a state,
Ten years when Daddy tested fate.
He left Eastern standards and aesthetics,
Armed only with his strong work ethics.
He and his kind would build the schools,
And churches and towns and follow rules.
It took big men to build the west.
I claim my dad one of the best.
He homesteaded in nineteen hundred one
And that is how the west was won.
Categories:
halter, social, work, dad, dad,
Form:
Ballad
I am the Blue Poet.
The uneasy man.
Who longs to be loved,
or just to have a friend.
My heart whisphers a low melody
on a faint, cool evening
thinking of her.
Once in my arms,
laying on my bed of roses.
Now she is gone.
I cannot think anymore!
It is hard, to love again,
When all your love has been taken away.
... I am the Blue Poet.
I am the Blue Poet,
That walks the bluish, dawn and dew covered streets
in the the October evenings and nights.
But I tell you, I wasn't always so blue.
No! I was once alive... happy... romantic,
... till Love went away!
Now I sit in the wayward poetry clubs,
drinking club soda and snapping my fingures
to a finished performance on a poem about love.
Written by a soft, spoken seventeen year old girl.
Soon, it is my turn to give my poem a read.
I stand on a lone stage, with a spotlight drownding me in blindness.
I face the faces, who look at me and smile.
A clap, and a cough, bring my head up.
I look out upon the sitting crowd.
To see that one face
that speaks to me,
without the movement of the mouth.
The face never showed though, and my head fell back down.
I start to read.
A vase of emotions kill me and swallow me up.
I try to hold back tears, but no more could I halter.
I finished, with a salty tear, rolling down my rough and oiled cheek.
I leave the crowd at ovation
and leave the women, all with tears in their eyes.
I come down from the stage, leaving the bright spotlight.
I shake hands, give hugs,
and collect my pay, and have another round of club soda.
Then, I go down the midnight alleyways of sprinkled city streets
finding myself a cozy room.
I think of her for a moment,
then off to sleep.
I dream of one time laughs, and hugs and kisses.
I cry in my sleep,
...For I am the Blue Poet.
Categories:
halter, beautiful, blue, cry, dark,
Form:
Romanticism
'Tis well known that mules are a very stubborn breed,
So 'tis well to keep that point in mind ere you proceed!
They've been known to bite and they have a mighty hefty kick.
(So, how to harness a mule? Very carefully and you must be quick!)
First, you should tie the mule to a sturdy post in an open area.
This will provide you room to move about and lessen his hysteria!
Grab the collar and slide the wider open end over the mule's ears.
(While doin' this, whisper sweet nothin's to him to calm his fears!)
Fasten the hames to the collar and drape the traces over his back.
Tuck the crupper under his tail makin' sure it is somewhat slack.
Tighten the girth ensurin' it's tight, then, fasten the bellyband.
(Take a break to bind the wound where he nipped you on the hand!)
The reins are carefully threaded through the saddle and collar guides.
(You're forgiven when he steps on your foot and you holler naughty asides!)
Now, slip the halter and bridle over his ears and place the bit in his mouth.
Walla! You're ready to hitch him to the plow to turn those forty acres south!
Well, so what you may ask? Why all this fuss about harnessin' a mule?
Because you may be required to harness one someday and not look the fool!
Furthermore, with the price of gasoline risin' at the pump nowadays,
You may need to get a mule and buggy and change your gas-guzzlin' ways!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
halter, animals, funnymay,
Form:
Rhyme
CRAZY MIRROR
She was right
The mirror was crazy
In the beam of moon, looked naked eggwhite
As if it was an iceblink slipping against the wall of night
Air was cool
A ghost bellowing a bull
End of the day she left her play the sky was less than blue
She faced the mirror a lassie sleuth lost in the trail of clue
The mirror wobbled a little
A creak a squeak a squeal a mouse
It backed the little sleuth she saw a dreaded noose a halter
She was brave and matter was grave she should never be in falter
The room was still
Kitchen opened a smell of dill
Shadows danced on the fence candles burned in defense
She chose the nook her brain addled heart strings tense
She found mom
And dad and brother Tom
Dream of heavens a summer rain quenched the thirsty eyes
The eluding glass thought the lass left a word to the wise
---o---
© Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
7th November, 2014
Categories:
halter, fear,
Form:
Rhyme
Written: September 15, 2023
______________________________________________________________
In the halter of destiny, we are all bound.
A monody of souls dissemble and found
With every lynch of trice vicious hand,
We quest to the ossuary of the apex land.
Yet in this hoedown of life and death,
We descry trices to canonize our breath.
In the equidistant cuddle, we share,
We ascertain solace in the clad of despair.
Through brittle nights and rallying days,
We quest to unfetter from the maze.
Omega awaits to clarify our fate.
Ablaze of stinging anguish, we can't abate.
Inanimate entities, ephemeral, and plain,
As a ripple of anguish sways, weep in pain
Aside from that, the cosmic harbinger sky
Espies our destruction with a silent sigh.
An epidemic of metempsychosis,
We inherit the legacy of pestilence psychosis.
On hiemal days and hibernal nights,
We bear the stature of sorrow's bite.
In every epoch of fugacity,
We quest for repeal—a wink of clarity.
Bequeath and madness, we strive to overcome
Nocuous menace to switch what we've become.
We often embellish it as life is so anxious.
Our roots still hold the pinnacle to progress.
Decisiveness, anguish, and an urge to revoke.
Lead exposure us to a nonlethal stroke.
The dance of life and death is an exquisite art.
Delight and anguish entwine—never apart.
At the pinnacle of this poetic tale,
We ascertain that life's heirloom prevails.
Though pestilence and grief endeavor to bind,
We have the incite to bequeath them all behind.
So let us dance, with hearts bridled high.
Embracing the madness as we reach for the sky
Categories:
halter, analogy, appreciation, death, feelings,
Form:
Rhyme
Normally I am sober
Love to socialize
Never lose composure
Need no disguise
I am an IT engineer
I am a good husband
Clara my wife dear
Earns several thousand
We are a happy family
Except the deadly alter
As they say the insanity
Needs a strong halter
Whenever you humiliate me
The rebel will come up
Will bring out invariably
The beast in my soul-hub
And when the beast is out
To do something horrible
Irrational bloods shout
I am criminally terrible
But the normal I has no memory
Of the monster in me
Nor the alter is aware
Of the others who accompany
This dissociation is disastrous
Psychiatry has no remedy
Psychotherapy is advantageous
For the disturbed chemistry
The broken home of my childhood
Haunts me in my dream
Both the identities in the darkness
Are in full-throated scream
Doctors give me medicines
For anxiety and depression
Sending me in reticence
To tranquilize the elephant
I don’t know how long I will stay
With this miserable destiny
I am afraid one clouded day
I'll kill both of me
___________________________
May 22, 2016
For: Split Personalities – Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Davey
Categories:
halter, anxiety, change, conflict, family,
Form:
Rhyme
I often do things my way
some times getting into trouble
especially when I was younger
the rules were there for breaking
A real scourge when at school
my teachers often despaired
boarding school was not fun
except for secret midnight rides
Even now I still go my way
although staying with in the law
my dad says I have my own way
of doing things, he is quite right
I just refuse to be a sheep
blindly following the others
if it does not make sense
then I always go my own way
footnote
I used to sneak out on moonlit nights catch up a horse and ride it through the fields
with just a halter or bridle great fun
Categories:
halter, dad, life, school, teacher,
Form:
Verse
My team - the New York Giants
won a smashing
v
I
c
t
o
r
y
today
I was much cheered by this
I used to be able to throw a football pretty far
Once played catch with a sexpot in a halter top
And
with
a Moslem
Used to play touch football
Used to live in Brooklyn, NY
but no longer.....
Categories:
halter, football,
Form:
Concrete
Winners never quit; quitters never win.
If you’re ill-fated, it’s not your sin,
Take it positively, whether you fail,
Mold you harder and sharper like a nail,
Because slow and steady wins the race,
It does not matter how shorter is your pace.
And be steadfast and not falter,
Have you viewed a rein like a halter,
A pulse-less thing but controls,
Horses' cab and their souls,
A feeble man who empowers his energies,
Can defeat the world with countless mysteries,
Until one has faith in his qualities and capabilities,
One won’t be able to surmount with possibilities,
Reach the summit or go in-depth of the deep ocean,
Overcome all your difficulties with a steady motion,
Wake up, young man; it’s not a dream,
So get over worries and have a big beam.
Categories:
halter, inspiration, inspirational, life,
Form:
Didactic
Is wedlock the true route to all conjugal bliss,
Nuptial excitement that starts with a kiss?
Or is it the halter after the altar,
That threatens to fetter and make life not better?
The fondling and cuddling and nights of long snuggling,
Changed overnight to ones, of alcohol guzzling.
A churlishness now in the partner is found,
From a beloved spouse to an obnoxious bloodhound.
She a fabulous cook,now sports a grumpy old look;
He's turned from intimacy to reading a book.
Love and coquetry has come to an ebb,
Finding affections in a new kind of web.
Monogamy turns to Polygamy slowly,
And perhaps doing things even more lowly?
From celibacy to intimacy and words we can't shout,
Now their connubial contact lies down and out.
They denounce and renounce and have their say,
To begin a life in a new kind of way.
Leaving it all to their legal belief,
Divorce now brings in,some kind of relief.
But where it will lead is anybodys guess,
For the ball is now rolling and lifes in a mess.
=== Princefreakasso
(Artist and Poet)
Categories:
halter, confusionlife,
Form:
Rhyme
I dream of your kiss
brought down from the paradise of heaven
brought in upon a silver platter.
Your kiss from heaven is all I dream,
to long for you to come in and give me a kiss,
upon my rough cheek, my chapped lips,
my oiled brow.
I long for your Kiss from heaven,
Feel me and hear the loneliness in my voice,
as your kiss from heaven shall bring us together
and we shall live together in love and happiness.
Do you hear the angels playing their golden harps
as you desend the stair
with lovely curls in your hair,
waiting as you come to me
and lay a simple and loving kiss upon my lips.
I charish your longing kiss
for your kiss is hard to miss;
as if I could not halter anymore,
I long for your kiss from heaven.
A kiss can solve anything,
two lovers seal their love with a kiss,
and a simple kiss can cure a broken heart.
Come now, my love and stich my heart back together,
with your loving kiss from heaven.
Desend from the golden steps of your glorious throne
and come down into my arms and we shall watch the stars fall from the sky,
and hear the trees sing their songs, and watch the mountains dance to simple tones.
As we lay together, on the bed sheets of virginity;
let us seal our love with a kiss.
For my love is endless for you,
and I cannot halter anymore longer
as I long for your Kiss from Heaven.
Come now, desend to me
and hold my hand, as I take you to the wayward cafes
and we will dance under the purple skies of the evenings.
As we grow together as one, I shall steal a kiss from you,
for I long for your loving kiss,
Longing for my sweet angel
to deliver her sweet kiss from heaven.
Come now and kiss me,
for I shall never miss that kiss, as long as I shall live.
For the Contest: Your Kiss from Heaven
Written by: Christopher Boskovski
Categories:
halter, beauty, blue, first love,
Form:
Rhyme
Deep in the Badlands, are canyons that claim
many a man, who rides without name
He's hiding or runnin', from somethun' he's done
Outcast, or outlaw....without any fame
but keeping a lookout for someone to come
A hawk circles low, on a brown afternoon,
like a curious vagrant, in the land of the sun.
On the trail in the Badlands, while the afternoon sighs,
are two saddled horses, two men, and their packs.
Cowpokes done riding, with the sun at their backs.
with pall of white clouds driftin' over their heads,
from a rift in the cottonwoods, that frame the canyon's ledge
The riders have paused, under gunmetal skies,
searching the canyon, for a place to bed down
to un-halter their horses, before the stars fill the night
To stare at a fire, with meager a bite
and a place to find shelter, and rest up for the fight
They will drink in illusion, as the horses refresh,
as they prance through deep waters, on the next summer's day
They are thirsty for rest, wipe the sweat off their brows
Will be back by the sunrise.....when they're back on the trail
Keeping a watch, from the canyon below,
But moving along, as the tumbleweeds roll
.
________________________________________
Cowboys In The Badlands Contest: Sponsored By Isaiah Zerbst
9/20/14
Categories:
halter,
Form:
Free verse
Diva with human touch- for contest
Alighted she from her red limousine
Bedecked in A-line gown, pista green
Till the waist embroidered golden sheen
Satin silk with a halter neckline
Charming face and a vibrant smile!
Stiletto glassy gold with shiny stones
Diamonds green dangled from her earlobes
Clutch in hand golden green embellished with pearls
Nail art elegant studded with shimmers added extra glow
Glossy red lips, curly eye-lashes, glamour gushed in flow
Chiselled nose, magical eyes, hairstyle mussed beehive
She looked a mermaid of fairyland
With rosy cheeks and graceful style
Confident steps on the red carpet
Huge cheer from the umpteen fans
Gorgeous diva of dreams she was
Guys present had skipped heartbeat
Cameras flashed to click her pics
She looked seasoned to this paparazzi and glitz
Waved she her hands and sent flying kiss
Autographs from classy pen with golden nib
Chaperoned by a handsome guy,
reached the stage beautifully set for her
Mike in hand she addressed the crowd with I love you all....
Money I raise from my song tonight will go to my charity drive
To help shape future of the children from the war-torn land
Huge applause and then follows sweet song in her voice
Celebrated beauty she already was yet more
beautiful her ways
Her charms always struck the sight but her tender heart won the soul!
© Copyright Anulaxmi Nayak,2015
For contest: Puttin on the Ritz
Sponsored by: Judy Konos
Submitted on: 4th September 2015
Categories:
halter, angel, art, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
Got the time to take a three-week break
Before the next 'hoorah'.
Spent most of his time on the ego line
With the girl behind the bar.
Mixed twenty years of her closet life, with the highlight now in town,
She left with him on a prayer and a whim, and a promise not yet found,
With rodeos and travelling shows
Through a hundred country towns,
The smell of fear and the taste of dust
Will never slow him down,
She tagged along 'cause her love was strong
And her dreams they still persist,
Now she knows those rodeos
Put her second on his list.
Every horse that came, looked the same,
Every cowboy’s just as mad,
And every time he took his second ride
He was travelling just as bad,
The money got scarce, so he gambled hard, and then he left her on her own,
She turned her back to the rodeo crowd, with her thoughts heading home.
She can't stand another caravan
For the walls close in on her,
Many lonely nights, alone she cries,
Rues the halter and the spur,
She tried to tear his heart away from the blood that bore his roots,
But the fire in her eyes could never match those there in the chutes.
With rodeos and travelling shows
Through a hundred country towns,
The smell of fear and the taste of dust
Will never slow him down,
She tagged along 'cause her love was strong
And her dreams they still persist,
Now she knows those rodeos
Put her second on his list.
Categories:
halter, culture, lonely,
Form:
Lyric
When I read my old poetry, I'm quite saddened about the lines,
ones filled with pain, sorrow and anger, all those of my declines.
I looked back at the decades of my life, and found myself pondering,
how life is like a parade, people passing by and just keep wandering.
Choices I've made along the way determine who I am and why.
The voices I hear every day make me laugh, some make me cry.
I've looked through envious eyes, but those visions were too dark,
when the old personality dies, it's easier to find a new path to walk.
I admonished the one I used to be, but she wields my pen and ink.
She writes poetic verses about all kinds of things before I can think.
She pens stories of past longing and of loves that were left behind,
of the need for belonging, and of the memories that tickle her mind.
I let her have a free hand; she's not an easy muse to hold down,
and when I try to take the pen, she draws a face wearing a frown.
She's my conscience when I falter, a voice guiding me from wrong.
I'm the horse that wears a halter, she holds my reins all day long.
I'm content with life and no longer care about what could've been.
I looked down at what she'd penned; a smiley face wearing a grin.
Categories:
halter, poetess, writing,
Form:
Couplet