Best Mare Poems
In ghostly dreams the horse will come
And feed on my forbidden cereal
Meant for my recalcitrant healing
That filly came a-prancing stealing
O shrouded mare so misted white
Thou bleakest horse ,this blackest night
Untethered and untied
Noble creature -"NOT"- I cried
A pallid stare through tousled mane
Treads the core of my hidden pain
So obvious now for all to see
My fear complies to jellyfied fragility
Hope drifts lost in catatonic misery
As does my scream in muted agony
Nostrils flared in malarial trembling
Gasps aloud from injurious dreaming
Departing tail of comets flight
Leaves me such a prophetic sight
Tight like
coffin,
black like
nightmare...
The coffin-maker likes his black tight
wagon, driven by the mare at night.
Wind sock kites can be seen along the beach
Couldn’t afford one; always out of reach
Until that Wednesday
When one got away
“Please, Mom, let it be mine,” I did beseech
No other kids were in sight on the sand
I grabbed the string; the kite took off as planned
Seagull in the way
Tangled right away
Snarled in the jetty, I saw it crash land
*Entry for Gwendolen’s “Let’s Go Fly a Kite” contest
Dedicated to Alexa Brus who has helped me hone my writing abilities and gave me the encouragement to continue writing when my muse escaped.
The Night and the Mare.
There is a horse,
and he is running.
A wooden carriage,
strains his back.
Bumping and grinding,
it trails the horse,
both dashing along the sun drenched path.
Dark passengers his cargo,
they fly into the face of the sun.
They know their time is coming.
Dancing upon the drench of the sun,
the carriage party gathers steam
that knows no bounds.
The sun, spellbound,
is drawn to it
in acquiesce.
Resist it does not,
as it plays its part
in what appears to be something
genuinely meant to be.
The final point is reached,
and the carriage stalls at the door.
The sun, and all its light,
bow down as the carriage grinds to a halt.
Steadied, its passengers exit,
stretch and dust themselves off.
The moon, black clouds, and the dark
introduce themselves as night,
and with the mare that brought them,
they enter the stage as one.
Limerick : Once a Stud Stallion in wild Mare charge
for Rick Zablocki
(as promised from the horse’s mouth)
Once a Stud Stallion in wild Mare charge
Didn’t see his gear was far too large
Hit goal right smack in poke
Mare humped : It in two broke
Since then in stud-farm draws dunged-straw barge.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Friends and foes of flesh and bone from me they have flown
A different company I keep in reveries of twilight sleep
When night’s dark blanket does fall, I begin to hear their call
Carriage wheels creak, horses shriek, I look, but dare not speak
Some appear restrained; others seem in good manners untrained
Pale complexions, faces unshaven, countenances dark and graven
Friendly words are not uttered, heavy hearts remain un-fluttered
After a brief admiration I join this motley delegation sans hesitation
Through sleepy streets we ride, through dark alleys we arrive
To our place of gathering - in silence, without any chattering
Far from city lights, under a moonlit sky an owl hoots thrice
As if to wonder, “Are these nocturnal creatures of virtue or vice?”
These ghastly preachers with ominous features invade his lightless
Kingdom with a mysterious mission - in search of freedom,
Perhaps driven by some demon, or for some other unknown reason
The owl has seen enough, so it swiftly flies away with a huff
In a ruinous castle by moonlight lit, at a round table we quietly sit
The ghostly figures each reveal packets from under dusty jackets
On the table they are placed, then with their burning eyes I am faced
This is to be a feast, my hosts are many, but guests there aren`t any
The packets are unwrapped, their curious contents are unmatched:
Flavors of love and hate, horror, and beauty, to devour all is my duty
Some taste sweet, fruits of exotic flavor, I eat; everything I savor
Others brought blood to the table; to swallow this too I must be able
I eat, swallow, devour, my hosts are pleased; suddenly I am seized
By a feeling of heavy heart and head, I enter a dark sleep of the dead
When I wake, in my mouth there’s a strange taste, in my body I ache
But the ghosts` sustenance must be treasured, their feast remembered
Or else I`ll be dismembered, the dark treasures in the woods gathered
Will be retrieved and given to a more worthy soul, for their goal
Is to bring their bitter, bloody honey to feed the mind not the body -
The essence of life distilled by the dead in images and words I was fed
come on
come on
its just a poem
I miss you most 'twixt dusk and dawn
Wondering where you might have gone
Like Little Bo Peep
I'm stuck counting sheep
Thinking of you with nothing on
Tak a swally wae mae will ye?
toast tae a life goan past
tae a wee lassie pure et last
Am no gonie lie
ets time fur her tae die..
So swally doon yer whisky son
goat a joab tae be dun
we'll fuk her err
wack er roon the heid
til she's deed
shes a bonnie wee lass nae
mare
Death assured, the shame of hanging
Teardrops, sighing as we say goodbye
Like departing lovers;
Murder is committed
Though couched in legality
”Though shall not kill”
For the freeman is not free
Whose life and in death
Is a TV soap opera
The people shall shout
Like the Jews during Christ’s trial
’Crucify him; crucify him.’
The Mare and I
Georgia on my mind, I remember a song the sweetness of America,
I have never been there but once I was in Huston, Texas, my ship
was there for repairs. I rented a car and drove deep into
the countryside which was hot and dry Just like in a western movie,
I stopped at a dud farm and they gave an old mare to ride.
When tired of riding the mare and I walked side by side along dusty
tracks and tumbleweeds and I thought of Indians who lived here
and left no history behind other than baddies in western movies.
Both the mare and I knew while there might be historic changes and
upheaval, human nature remains the same; it is about war and peace,
love, hate and jealousy...and finally death. But not quite that, above
all there is dignity and respect for life. Texas has a big sun and it was
setting. “Home on the ranch” a song remembered. Time to get back
to the ocean and admire the dolphins and listen to their song.
A thing that is vast, but somewhat obscure.
Full of wonders, there is no doubt to be sure.
Glistening blue under the daylight sky.
You dream of seeing it and traversing it, but why?
Over its horizons, many lands can be seen,
Its wonders a mystery and its beauty serene.
Full of life, a new world found below
Movement is different here, more graceful and slow.
But be cautious of this grand expanse,
For she does much more than sway and dance.
Lives she can claim when she is angered and scared,
overwhelm all who cross her, many vessels ensnared.
Take heed when you cross her path,
Or you will be next to endure her wrath.
Crushed and swept under her mighty hand,
Her cold embrace you must withstand.
Perpetual she is and transient is her rage
But once you fall under, she will be your cage.
treat her well and traverse her with care
Or suffer the ocean, The great Mistress Mare
Mare Nostrum
On the coast of Augusta, in Cecilia this wonderful sea,
the bluest of turquoise, transparent and I saw fish play.
Blood and bloated corpses have made the sea less pretty
and fish nibbles on cadavers of those who tried to cross
the sea to escape the lunacy we created in Libya.
A president short of stature but with inflated ego plus
philosopher idiot, two men were responsible this disaster
of a war just to get rid of a dictator one of them had lent
money of the other who should not be left out of his confine
of academia, he should have in hidden in a university writing
books only historians take a passing interest in.
As it is the impossible vain man get feted, all because he is
an intellectual and wears a velvet jacket and clean collars.
My old Mafia friend Thomas the knife, has invited me to
Augusta, I will go there but not swim the hazy sea, but we
will eat langouste, drink child wine and talk about the days
when philosophers and presidents left us alone to kill only
when needed and never the innocent.
Its been cold ...very cold........
I can’t feel my part of soul....
The ray of shine eaten by fog....
I m lonely standing alone in the road......
Leaved by someone grabbed by no one....
Make myself to run in the path....
Leaving the fear of fall apart...
Don’t care how i m going to find the path....
Just decided to follow my heart...
It was cold ....very cold
Its just the cold frighten me so...
And fog was there for confusing me all...
But the light of faith was still in there...
Giving me warmth of doing all fair...
I stopped somewhere ....some light was there
I follow the light but nobody alive there....
I faced the dead on that path....
Feeling so cold very cold......
Then i woke from sleep....and realise it was dream
I opened my eyes my makers were there waking me up....
From that fiery mare....
They saw my face as it was pale ...
I grabbed them tight and decided to leave them never......
Each child needs time to stand
To make his connection
Riding on back to Medusa
Making faces I gave to you.
If you are eating your chips
You are wasting trouble
Remember counting is going backwards -
Don't look at me like that.
One for you - he has one.
You two work it out.
If you toast the Egyptians,
You meet all powers.
Our men are weary tired,
I am the only doctor now.
I must cut away the lungs,
And place them in mind.
As they will need air,
I will bring juice
They will not eat until they
Show they have earned it.
When these men realize
I sell no insurance,
No train stops for them.
They become Conductor.