Best Hoofs Poems


Premium Member White Devil

White Devil

Call it what you want!
I call it, his favorite season hunt...
Two hoofs imprinted near the riverfront.
Echoes calling my soul with a loud, ferocious grunt.

I smell it in the air, lost upon the white golden stair.
A deep frost dwelling all over his lair.
Tangled by the frozen grip of my hair.
A decision, I declare to give what he won't spare.

This man has no red suit..
Lurking in the white to recruit.
A midnight suicide clouding me with pollute.
I pause my tongue on mute, lost in a white castle chute.

Headed straight into a shivering blazing star path.
The land of snow covered like a bubble bath.
Breaking icicles like crystal glass, suck3d by the milky-way mass.
Multiplying bruises like a cascade, enjoying the aftermath. 

Finding a way to slit the pain in my domain.
I grab a coat and lace my name to Mary-Jane.
Inserting the finest line to ease the drain in my brain.
I drink the icy scotch, and drop a silver nickel into the devils cocaine.

Fallen in to his bait, its too late, I got 7 lines on my dinner plate.
I'm covered up in snow, enjoying the amazing way to suffocate.
Eight beats to every minute is my new heart rate.
I'm reaching for the white golden gate, where the white devil waits.

Drowning like liquor in a frappe mixing the winter's high tide.
Death to my soul is where I hide under this white blanket neutral side.
Too heavy to uplift this storm lost in the devil's cold custard suicide guide.
Waking up in a coma, in a world where white collides with the rage of suicide.

by;p.d.   
 (( Trapped in a snowy blizzard))
Categories: hoofs, absence, beauty, depression, lost,
Form: Rhyme

I Refuse To Count Sillybulls

There once was a poet who despaired
though blessed with a fair amount of flair
that he was way too thick
to master limericks
counting words an arduous affair 

Limerick-writing he'd master not
count sillybulls, meter and whatnot 
the elusive punchline's
too troublesome to find
with his thoughts roughly tied up in knots

Spatial dimension impediment 
a meter doubled in measurement
at the best of times three 
lopsided prosody
shoddy despite its being eloquent

Sillybulls ignored and miscounted
charge around angrily, discounted
with their hoofs on the slam
they step up the bedlam
bewildering chaos uncounted 

With pep talks and deliberation
resolved:  they're too high 'bove my station
so to rhyme he should stick
and give up limericks
where wordcraft counts naught but summation

*Sillybulls = syllables.  My thanks to Ephraim Crud for the loan of the word.
To Wignesan:  am I stooopid or what???
Categories: hoofs, light, poetry,
Form: Limerick

Fate Is Sealed

FATE IS SEALED

This road I've walked before 
I should know it so very well
Because it opened up a door
One that lead straight to hell

 I met a rider upon a dark steed
He asked me what's my pleasure
Then wondering if there's a deed
Or if perhaps any kind of treasure

Said I could be rich,even famous
Play the best guitar ones heard
Maybe I'd like the luck of shamus
Yes I could even sing like a bird

He asked  me so many questions 
After each I replied with "No"
wondered if I had any suggestions
Which I told him yes to just go

told me my wish was granted now
He'd be back in 10 years to collect
collect I ask and he just said wow
I should show him a bit more respect

Laughing said he just bought my soul
Confused I told him of my concern
Said should spend my time whole
laughing he said in ten I'll burn

Deja vu I hear beating hoofs again
There upon his steed silky smooth
Smiling he said shall we begin
I smiled telling him slow your groove

Confused he asked what was I up to
Said your the cross road demon right
Looking Leary said yes thats true
I said my dads the prince of night

Moral of this story if one was to be had
Always know with whom you do deal
As they should, so none can be mad
Never know it may be your fate you seal
Categories: hoofs, conflict, corruption, evil,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member The Kentucky Derby- the Quatrain Style

~The Kentucky Derby~
(Quatrain)


What a glorious day it is today,
As people of all ages are having fun,
Because  the Kentucky Derby race,
Is taking place  till the day is done.

You can really see all around the, 
Throughbred beautiful horses,too,
That will be competing for the, 
grand prize that they'll give today.

There are very large crowds everywhere,and,
Folks are laughing and making bets to,
For their favorite horses everywhere, and,
You can feel their excitement mounting too.

You can see the jockeys walking around,
Displaying proudly all their best colors and silks too.
They all seem to be,more than ready for this race,
While taking last notes here and there to make things okay today.

Well,this wonderful race is about to start any moment now.
The horses are being prepared in every way,and that's true,
As they're all looking their very best from head to hoofs,
The winner will receive a very beautiful cup and great honors,too.

So many bets that are at stake here for so many today,
People are very excited, rushing all over the place to,
As the horses and their jockeys are getting ready now,
The jockeys are looking so proud atop the horses they'll ride, too.

The horses and jockeys are now set for this much awaited race, 
They're all  in line and in their position to start anytime to,
But it will take a long time for sure for this race to be over,
But already it looks like "Black  Beauty" is about to make history today.



Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2011


November.16.2016
Categories: hoofs, beautiful, horse, love, race,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member I Am An Orchid

Now slipping in peace the hues of day
Maybe this I fully know;
Above the vales, the dappled fields
Of bushy lanes and down to where
The brimful city hoofs below.

Again I feel the seed of dawn
Coiled inside my roots  till all 
Of white mist were drawn.
I've twirled with the isles at night,
Sweet and chaste I lie
Where fresh and tinseled moonbeams sigh.


..............
Andrea Dietrich's Picture Yourself As A Flower Contest
*Orchid— symbol of refinement and innocence
5/8/2015
Categories: hoofs, flower, innocence,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member By Now You Have Forgot' - To Whom It May Concern - Part 2

Continued from Part 1

               “Upon your knees in golden naves, while peeking through the slots,
               You horded thirty silver pieces, downed a whiskey shot,
               Then crossed yourself and wrapped yourself in furs of ocelots,
               And danced on cleated cloven hoofs in purple polka-dots,
               Then drank His blood from chalice cups with pious afterthoughts.
 
               “You’ve treated men like mongrels chained, like little flies to swat,
               By doing what you wanted to, instead of what you aught;
               You’ve wiped your nose with dollar bills and paid your serfs with snot,
               But when you’ve paused to preen your pride, you’ve scrubbed a scarlet blot.
 
               “In ashes of our victories: the diamonds that you sought,
               The crock of gold, the Golden fleece of bogus Argonauts -
               In mirrors of your lifelessness, the evils you begot.
              
               “The haunted winds strew leaves of time across a shallow plot
               Where now, beneath the frozen stones blanched bodies bathe in rot,
               Disintegrate, return to dust to feed Forget-Me-Nots
               Amidst the bane and pits of pain where broken bones lie caught.
 
               “In fields above the catacombs and tombs of Camelot
               The black and withered tree of Death arises from the spot
               Where oft beneath a bleeding moon you hid your gold in pots
               Embedding doubts neath barren bogs where roots of wormwood squat.
 
               “While waiting at the river Styx, in twisted time untaught,
               From branches of the gallows tree, in recollections wrought,
               Your soul, a beggar’s blanket, hangs in crazy quilted knots,
               With dangling pearls and diamond studs mid dripping crimson clots
               And gaping wounds with bulging eyes like fouling apricots,
               For wrapped in chains around your throat, the Reaper’s grim garrote.”
 
Yes, that’s the fate of all your kind, disclosed by Wise Men taught.
 
But that was, oh, so long ago, by now you have forgot…



End
Categories: hoofs, men, time, war,
Form: Monorhyme


Premium Member Waiting For Daylight

He would enter the corral in the thick fog of mist,
up long before daylight would christen the air
The skies would be coral, and the sun glazed the crest
Dust clung to the heels of his old leather boots,
and gathered in shrouds around the hoofs of the mare.

Billowing were clouds, and a whirlwind of grief
that followed the storms of long hours awake
Endless were nights without the refuge of sleep
while he waited for sun to arrive and relieve

Caressing the flank of her sleek narrow, frame,
his favorite mare, Queenie, was the color of dawn
He would gather her reins, for a moment of calm
then, bury his face in her rusty brown mane

He'd watch as the light slipped over the hills,
smoothing the shadows, that haunted his world
Without ever knowing the worries we found
as we saw those same shadows, splay rapidly down,
drowning his eyes, with dark circles and frowns

Grief and the love of his horses, would ride,
together, off center....wherever, to hide,
and soften the hours, that waited for night

For the house was a shell, and the bedroom, upstairs,  
became the forbidden, without her to share
The nights, ever long, were just waiting to tear
open the wounds that couldn't be shared

Up at the sunrise, and out until starlight
Where shadows grew stronger, and nights even longer
Burning the daylight, until light was in ashes, 
then thrashing the midnight, with the darkness of mourning,
wading through dust-clouds, to see morning's light
Waiting for something to make it alright


____________________________________________________

4/28/15
Dedicated to my Dad
Categories: hoofs, bereavement, dad, death, father,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member To Dream Or Not To Dream, That Is the Question

Pale and fair, she will sit awhile 
She's a fragile lily, but not a child
who climbs across the wooden stile
to seek her private solitude

The willow pond, is her second home
She'll while away these lonely hours
with dragonflies, and buttercups,
mossy stones, and fragrant flowers

She picks bouquets of hufflewinks
 of yellow, blue, and blushing pink
Then adds a cattail to the mix
with baby's breath, and bright tulips

Deep in her magic dreamer's trance 
Pretending that there is a prince
who'll save her from a Dragon's wrath
He'll sweep her up and steal a kiss
together they will ride in bliss

Trees sway and swoon along the bank
Reminding her of restless winds
and that love is fleeting as a breeze
Trees lose their leaves, and dreams will fade

She listens, for the sound of hoofs
O'er twig and stone, her eyes are keen
Yet, not a prince, nor stead is seen
Where tangled grass and willows lean
 
As if a lily, but not the child
who seeks her private solitude
She comes to dream a little while
then climbs across the wooden stile
to leave the dream among the fronds
at the quiet Willow Pond


_____________________________________________
6/4/18 
Dragons, Dragonflies, And Huffle-Winks Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
Categories: hoofs, desire, dream, fantasy,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member In This Olden Soul, a Fast Dancing Horse

In This Olden Soul, A Fast Dancing Horse

In this olden soul, a fast dancing horse
lively one I now can not ride, of course.
Looking on this world, it races away
saddened by hidden darkness holding sway.

With echoing hoofs tapping stronger beats
I dream of my love between silken sheets.
Her long, pretty hair with its golden sheen
as I recall, fantasies of my teens.

Pounding of my heart when love's race is on
sorrowful stampede when my love has gone.
At such pain, horse speeds into the mists
I beat wailing walls, with my bloody fists.

In this olden soul, a fast dancing horse
its premature death, my greatest remorse.

Robert J. Lindley, 3-04-2018
Sonnet, 3-04-2018
Categories: hoofs, dance, deep, dream, horse,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member A Ghostly Encounter

One night about 25 years ago
I was sat in my car at Cothelstone
Dx-ing on my CB radio in the wee hours
when my two dogs started to growl
every hair on their bodies on end
a most putrid smell entered my car
I heard the sound of hoofs churning
knowing it must be the headless horseman
I kept my eyes down as 't is said death comes
to those who look Thor in the eyes.

I was unwilling to drive away
as earlier I had erected an antenna
outside of the car fixed to a tree
the smell was almost over powering
and I  could feel its gaze upon me
it felt as if Thor was willing me to look
my dogs were whimpering then howling
no way was I raising my eyes oh no!!
'T was but an hour or so till dawn
slowly the smell faded and my dogs calmed down

As soon as it was light enough 
I let them out and got the antenna down
vowing never again to spend a night here
thoroughly spooked by this experience
I looked around and saw churned ground
with clear hoof prints as the horse had
milled around my car, calling back my dogs
who gladly jumped in, we drove off
I have returned since but only in daylight




DX-ing long distance radio contacts
this is a true story there are many tales   of Thor the headless horseman who rides the 
hills from East Quantockhead through Shervage Wood past Will's Neck through 
Cothelstone to the Quantock edge and back all agree if you look into his eyes within 
a few weeks you will be pushing up the daisy's. All I can say is I have seldom been so terrified
Categories: hoofs, fear,
Form: Free verse

How Many Mornings

will I awaken
               tears?
     struggling, uncomfortably
                          adjusting to fears:

               change - stagnation breeding boredom
               acceptance - realization that it's over
                Self - knowledge that I must face
                truth - she's found another lover....

        discheveled droopy drawers
               howling down on all fours,

         drinking
  under table,
         walking
  though unable,      I

vanish
                                  in the wind.

Symbols of the ways
  that I have wrongly sinned,

Against my inner portrait
  Image with no mirror,

A painted picture of the soul:
  UNDESIRABLY SUPERIOR

         to the one you primp
                      and pose for,
         for vanity's sake:
                                      take yr daily dose
                                      of annihilistic rape!

Yr outer - woven
                 cloven hoofs
                                     are worn and swollen

Better take yr beauty sleep
  before Time has it stolen...

So wash yr guilty 
   wants with lie,
and scrub yr yellowish heel,

rinse yr drydrunk unconscious

and tip-toe at the wheel,

weave in
             out the traffic
and push the pedals hard,

to erase the dividing lines from memory

without a spoken word...
Categories: hoofs, angst, introspection, lost love,
Form: Rhyme

Alone In Wait

Lonesome as I am
Slowly I ride
Along my course
Leaning back I stride
Clip-pity- clop-pity along
Allowing the reins to go free

Boots out of stir-rups
Hat pushed way back
No rhyme or reason to my walk
For now no one is near
If only my mare could talk
Another story I would hear

All human life far away
Alone I do my best
But now I don’t want the rest
Just me, myself, and I
Alone with the twinkling stars

Now hoofs, dirt, and sand meet
So quiet I can hear
My own heartbeat
A peaceful time to think
To pray
To allow things be
Waiting for my Judgment Day

So come to me
My Lord
I am ready to greet
Categories: hoofs, faith, inspirational, life,
Form: Free verse

Everyday Is Hump Day

PIGS GO OINK
COWS GO MOO
GHOSTS SAY BOO
NOTHING NEW
HORSE GOES NEIGH
BUT WHAT DOES THE TURTLE SAY?

?

BIRD WINGS GO FLIP FLAP
FISH FINS GO SPLISH SPLASH
HORSE HOOFS GO CLIP CLOP
SNAKE BELLY GOES SLITHER
SANTA CLAUSE SAYS HO HO HO
BUT WHAT’S THE SOUND OF THE CAMEL TOE?


WHAT DAY IS IT?

EVERYDAY IS HUMP DAY
?
Categories: hoofs, animal, crazy, funny, nonsense,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member In Arabian Palace Alcove- a Tale of Love

In alcove of the palace on that night
I felt the rush of pleasure and delight
He pressed me to the wall and forced a kiss
I nearly fainted as I tasted bliss

The dark and handsome Prince of kingdom fair
He ran his fingers through my raven hair
And then he burned my mouth with hungry lips
I felt the clutch of hands upon my hips

I could not breath, all thought had taken flight
He was of royal blood and noble height
Pervading every dream, he’d ravished me
And now each longing wish had come to be

He whispered in my ear, “I’ll make you Queen!
Though servant now you are, your slave I’ve been
I’ve wanted you from moment you walked by
You fill my life, oh darling of my eye!"

And then he planted kiss on heaving breast
His lips in need to be my bosom guest
He pulled back then and looked into my eyes
“The man who touches you, THAT man, he DIES!

“No one will taste your nectar, none but I
I’ll speak to Sultan; rules will change, I’ll try
To take as wife a slave of common birth
For there is none as fair upon this earth.”

He crushed me to himself and walked away
I waited for my Prince both night and day
A summon came to speak to Sultan then
“My son’s to wed, I’ll tell you where and when.

I found for him a princess fair and bright
Her skin is soft and supple, lily white
She is my brother’s girl, his next of kin
Forget him dear, his love for you is sin.”

I wept that night as I walked to my door
Constrained to take my life, the poison pour
When soon my ears did hear the wondrous sound
Of steed in haste, his hoofs pounding the ground

He came to me and begged me to forgive
My love he needed if he were to live
He laid me on my bed and did implore
“I have your soul, but now I beg for more.”

By candle light the Prince made love to me
I sighed, I cried, I died, he set me free!
“Arise my love, let’s leave this cursed place
You’re now my wife, oh girl of angel face.”

To kingdom fair, we bade a last farewell
My joy and rapture none but heart can tell
We lived a life of love and sweet repose
He was MY Prince and I his Passion Rose.

Eileen Manassian
Categories: hoofs,
Form: Iambic Pentameter

Moment of Truth

How much stark evidence, how many proofs 
will be dismissed before conceit it fails; 
and of His mercy decide to avail 
this presumptuous species from faith aloof. 
Flashbang rumble! A thousand unseen hoofs 
galloped overhead, as clattering hail 
mass-pogoed as if emptied from some vast pail 
upon unsuspecting Tarmac and roofs.  

Mercy, I swear I heard the atoms split 
from molecules to create ozone 
as, outside close nearby the lightning hit; 
its acrid tang prevalent in a home, 
which for a charged instant that bolt lit: 
thrilling spectator as he watched alone.
Categories: hoofs, allusion, god, nature, rain,
Form: Italian Sonnet
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