Best Racking Poems
I Love Horses: A--Z
A is for... Appaloosa. They have
blankets on their rumps.
B is for...Belgian. They work
hard and can pull up stumps.
C is for...Clydesdale. They're
BIG bays with white fluffy feet.
D is for...Dartmoore, a pony
from the moors--so sweet!
E is for...Egyptian, the finest
horse on desert sand.
F is for...Fresian: Big black War
Horse--a Knight's demand.
G is for...Gypsy Vanner, a rare
beauty like fairy tales.
H is for...Hanoverian. The best
all-round from England hails.
I is for...Irish Tinker. A loyal
horse that's black and white.
J is for...Java Pony. He's
Indonesia's working sprite.
K is for...Knapstrup. He's a
horse full of leopard spots!
L is for...Lipizzaner: Grey
leapers known in the Big Tops!
M is for...Mustang. Wild and
Free--roams America's West.
N is for...Nonius: Big-headed
black and drives the best.
O is for...Oldenburg. Dressage
ribbons just get bigger.
P is for...Palomino. Roy Rogers
named his, Trigger.
Q is for...Quarter Horse,
cowboy's fav'rite! Does
Everything!
R is for...Racking Horse. His
ride's so smooth it will make
you sing.
S is for...Spotted Saddle Horse,
Gaited beauty everyone loves.
T is for...Thoroughbred. Racing,
"The Sport of Kings", he does.
U is for...Ukrainian Riding
Horse: Beautiful born after
War's end.
V is for...Vlaamperd: Flemish
black stallion and true friend.
W is for...White (Albino) Horse.
The Lone Ranger's 'Silver'--of
course!
X is for...Xilingol. He's
Mongolia's riding draft horse.
Y is for...Yonagui, a chestnut
pony from Japan.
Z is for...Zebra: African wild
but tamed by man.
A personal therapist long past
the end,
The love of a horse...is the
love... of a Friend.
deborah burch
02.28.2013
Categories:
racking,
Form:
Couplet
Written: August 09, 20230
Fifa Women's World Cup 2023 Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Mark Toney
______________________________________________________________
In the realm of soccer, where dreams bear flight,
A stage was set, shining under the beaming light.
The Women World Cup, with glory at stake,
Sweden against the U.S., hearts ready to quake.
Regulation played out, With a nil-nil score,
Both teams gave their all. Their spirits never wore.
The tension in the air—as the clock ticked away.
The crowd held their breaths, in anticipation that day.
Extra time was granted to break the deadlock.
True, a win was staked—each side stood headlock.
The strain grows as there are no goals to be found.
As the clock started to tick away the time abound.
The shootout with penalties—to pick the winner.
In the greatest nerve-racking way feasible spinner
The U.S. stepped up, with confidence and might,
But fate had a different design, on this fateful night.
Three missed kicks—In the realm of soccer fights,
Sealed the U.S.'s fate, In a moment so tight.
Kudos to Musovic—and the Blue and Yellow,
For their resilience and skill, in a match so mellow.
In the realm of soccer, Where dreams bear flight,
This game will forever be a testament to their might.
The Women World Cup—a stage of pure thrill,
Where nations unite, with a passion that is real.
Though the U.S. may have faltered, In this battle so grand,
Their journey won't cease here—their legacy will still stand.
In the realm of soccer, It's not just around the score,
But the heart and grit, retain us coming back for more.
So let us celebrate the triumphs and the falls,
The beauty of the game captures us all.
In the realm of soccer, where dreams bear flight,
We witness moments of glory—battles fought with might.
Congratulations to Sweden—their win was sweet
All dreams in the field of soccer start at the feet.
A stage was built up, gleaming in the spotlight.
The Women's World Cup—the stakes are right.
Categories:
racking, america, analogy, appreciation, soccer,
Form:
Rhyme
The man stumbled on, wanting to get as far away as possible
the sights he had seen and lived through too terrible to contemplate.
How could another human deliberately inflict such awful things on another.
He could see a gentle stream of smoke arising from the distant chimney
and headed for the shelter it offered, staggering on until he reached it.
It was a pretty cottage nestled deep into the hillside and isolated.
He tumbled through the door and collapsed on the floor.
Mistily he drifted in then out of consciousness unable to focus
aware vaguely of a gentle touch that soothed and replenished.
He drank from the cup pressed to his lips and then let go.
The old lady shook her head at the follies of mankind,
and set to work bandaging his festering wounds.
She made a drawing potion to clean out the poison
that had taken a fierce hold racking him with fever.
Then she covered him and stoked up the fire.
For three days he lay in a coma muttering about the war,
not an ordinary one, oh no, this war caused carnage.
Evil stalked the land every hand turned against the other.
Sons killing fathers and brothers and to what point?
A simple disagreement about Creed had started this.
Weakened by the ravages he was slow to fully heal
yet he learned much from the old lady causing him to rethink.
To look at things with eyes a-new seeing the other point of view.
These new values he took with him when he left thanking her gratefully.
He set out on a new route, his task now to heal and bring peace.
Standing a-midst the crowd on a small hillock he taught them new values
not by preaching as such but by parables that showed the way to peace.
After all he would say; Pause and Think, For What are We without hope?
Everything gone by can be changed, all we have to do is care and act.
So lit the small flicker in your heart and fan up a healing blazing flame.
Categories:
racking, dark, hope, war,
Form:
Epic
Soaking up sunshine on sandy warm shores;
sipping sangria while sampling smores.
Under umbrellas we’re putting to use;
utterly euphoric as the day comes unloose.
Mid-morning mildness is making me muse;
mild mannered time I must never misuse.
Madness of midnight is making mandates;
making fond memories while mingling with mates.
Eating cold eskimo pies by sea’s edge;
enjoying the easy life nothing can enhedge.
Resting by the river with rod and reel;
ready for catfish their tails to reveal.
Tracking the bull toads and catching tadpoles;
Taking it easy as heat takes its toll.
Ice cold sangria will surely incite;
into the icer, our friends we’ll invite.
Mid-summer party and merry we’ll make
memories to make us forget our mistakes.
Ending this etude I hope you enjoyed
every small ethos that I just employed.
June 9, 2018
Contest: Alliteration Old or New
Sponsor: Joseph May
Categories:
racking, summer,
Form:
Alliteration
The simplicity of life
Transparent as black glass
Bordering my ever contemplating mind
And the annoyingly optimistic
High pitched
And easily recognizable
Music of the Beatles
Struggles to overcome
my black soul
And forces the image of Paul and John
As they point in my direction
And shout for all to hear
And all to know
That I'm the real nowhere man
Making all my nowhere plans
For nobody
Just me
Alone in this place
No signs
To tell me where i am
No direction
To show me where to go
All of the houses
Match
No cars
No people
Just a dog
Barking in the distance
constantly
Every second
Of every day
Every night
Of every year
And nothing I can do
To silence the painful
Racking
And never ending noise
As it slowly drives me
Out of my mind
Every second
Of every day
Every night
Of every year
No sleep exists
No thought is clear
And when the lights go out
The grunting starts
Coming from under the bridge
But when I go
To inspect
There's nobody there
Just the growling
Of a disgruntled homeless man
Who's house I picture
Is now floating down
This never ending river
Of noise
As the snoring
The water
And the barking
harmonize
To form an overwhelming lullaby
Dulling my mind
As it goes on
forever
Woof
Snore
Whoosh
Woof
Snore
Whoosh
Pounding my ears
Constantly
Every second
Of every day
Every night
Of every year
Categories:
racking, lifenight, me, night, ,
Form:
Free verse
The morning mists falling from Snapdragon eyes
Standing on high peaks viewing the verve of diversity
Starlit nights viewing the galactic milieu painted above
The promise once made now viewed after the rainstorm…
In these moments I see the Almighty
The bellow of anguish in the tears of the children
A racking widow held up as she faces her spouse’s sepulcher
Victims calling to God in the smoldering ruins of a battle
Helpless and lost ones asleep on heating grates in December...
In these moments suffering is all too real
Arizona’s painted desert at the moment of dusk’s zenith
The Atlantics glass rolling waves on the shores of Cape Ann
My daughters absolute trust as she sleeps upon my chest
The Rocky Mountain winds hushing the Ponderosa Pines…
In these moments I sense true peace
When “I Love You” first looked at me with untainted eyes
The moment I heard my child’s voice for the first time
That first springtime morning awakened by soft Popinjay rhythm
The roar of the crowd during a spring training game…
In these moments I find the Joy of living
Searching my life I put these puzzle pieces together…
Only to find these moments define the man I’ve become
Categories:
racking, imagination, introspection, life, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
Racking, fracking, fricker dickers -
there it goes again stirring all my inner jitters;
my pc, tablet, phone and friends
blank screens locked immovable in place again
while tweets and texts disappear in phantom space.
Techno blab excites me
and the mesmerizing call invites me
but searching play on the blank display cueing
frustrates my mind to forget just what I'm doing
and at my fingertips the troubles brewing.
It's a slam dunk OCD call
to play games and tweet within the web thralls
lost in wavelength microwave wifi
while communication stalls and dies
and that's the truth, no lies.
Curse you internet!
Categories:
racking, allusion, analogy, internet,
Form:
Rhyme
As Autumn's Beauty Rests In Dying Of Its Leaves
( Vae cuius obturatus est signatum manu sua. )
( Cuius spiritus in eis audita populi et ceterorum domantur socordiamque effusos)
( Cujus animam servare non curat.)
Years have waxed, waned and far flung since
Newborn dawn's glory, famishing desires
Sunset reds, night-dreams represent suspense
Hot-searing flames of old, romantic fires.
I dare not, such treasure, offerings grieve
As Autumn's beauty rests in dying leaves!
Life held mesmerizing, promising scenes
Mysteries youth thought impossible to solve
Such as why of colors in peacock's preen
Necessity of man's need to evolve.
I dare not, such treasure, offerings grieve
As Autumn's beauty rests in dying leaves!
In this gasping realm, with its dying race
We enter as loud wailing infant child
Earth without mortals would seem out of place
And Life dull, without our youth being wild.
I dare not, such treasure, offerings grieve
As Autumn's beauty rests in dying leaves!
Go we along paths oft Fate delivers
With its blessings, love-bursts dancing in
Amongst darkness, and soul racking shivers
Lie vagaries, pitfalls of mortal men.
I dare not, such treasure, offerings grieve
As Autumn's beauty rests in dying leaves!
Robert J. Lindley, 8-11-2019
Rhyme, ( Lest We Forget, Life Holds Many Treasures We Are Blind To )
New Revised Note:
Woe unto man whose eyes are sealed by that of his own hand
Whose spirit is tamed by apathy and indifference
And whose soul he takes no care to preserve.
Old note:
Date, 3-21-1977
As this world spins, its heartless cruelty astounds
Yet in my life, I can create no strong shield
To defeat its darkness and cast away its savagery that so truly confounds.
New Note: Explanation...
Date, 8-11-2019
This was written many decades ago.
As I've now done a major editing/rewrite-
it is basically a new poem, thus I give
this new poem as dated being created today.
Leaving the old note intact.. Best I can do
today to write is to edit old poems..
Sorry... and maybe even the old one was ok...
Categories:
racking, appreciation, art, autumn, beautiful,
Form:
Rhyme
My old bones swayed to the old tune
bringing back memories long forgotten.
My spirit rejoiced in exultation
of a ne'er forgotten loving excitation.
For you’re my Dancing Queen.....
There you stood like a wallflower,
indifferent, lukewarm, nonchalant;
seemingly thinking about other things.
You drove me mad, my dancing queen,
you taunted me perilously, wretchedly.
How could I ever bear the teasing looks
you guardedly gave me, my lovely nymph?
I was dancing with some insipid teen,
definitely not having the time of my life;
my loving eyes piercing your sensuous curves
like Eros arrows hitting at random and at will.
Yet you looked on as if I was not there.
The music grew to a raw crescendo....
For you were my dancing queen
and suddenly I was madly in love with you.
I twirled, spun and tripped over you.
The music stopped, dancers gazed at me
with a heartfelt pang as I lay sprawled at your feet.
A racking malaise stabbed my whole being
until I felt your strong hands help me up
steadying me, and leading me to a chair.
And you were only nineteen!!!
The music began again, the old familiar strains
How nimble you could dance,
Oh how I yearn for that sweet moment
For you were my dancing queen......
You danced away while I stayed put
as my foot swelled with excruciating pain.
The euphoric dance came to a halt.
The lights went low.
You helped me to your waiting car.
I leant back, tired and abject
Until I felt your lips on mine;
the heavenly music began again...
yes, yes you’re my dancing queen,
you will always be my dancing queen.
Categories:
racking, dance, love,
Form:
Free verse
I've laughed with these people,
Took long journeys with them,
Thought I could truthfully say,
"You are all my dearest companions"
Looking out at the gray,
Knowing you've all forgotten,
Forgotten all our rambles,
Forgotten me too.
For one sin did I make,
And you condemn me for life,
Shamed as I was,
You deserted me here.
Pounding the ground,
My body would shake,
Retchings in my throat,
As I tried to get free.
For this one sin have I done,
And only one does it take,
For you all to condemn me?
And leave me do die?
What kind of love did you have for me?
In the waking hours I would think,
Think of you all, if you were in trouble,
Pray for you all, if you were in need.
Now as I have fallen,
You won't dirty your knee?
To help me up?
Strengthen my courage to try again?
Desperite tears would comb the ground,
My body shaking from the pain within,
I could not breathe from the dry sobs,
Racking my body, tearing my bones.
All this for one sin,
One sin that would not help me cleanse,
Shamed you left me here,
And here I have lain, ready to die.
For why should I live,
If you are what I once called
Dear friends, and thought to be,
Dear friends....
Categories:
racking, angst, confusion, sad, me,
Form:
Free verse
No need to brag
Jeter #2 was born to play and win; now that’s swag
For twenty years he has been the face of the MLB
Games played in 2123
Scored runs 1569
He won his 5th and final championship in 2009
One of the greatest shortstops that would ever be
He was 1 of 37 players with 1000 RBI
Jeter had five Silver Slugger Awards, two Hank Aaron Awards, a Roberto Clemente Award, and had 118 runs
On his face for 20 seasons is a permanent grin that shows he’s having fun
Jeter had 248 more hits than any other player
He may have been known as a singles hitter
A playoff game (158) over the course of his career and owns a .308 BA with 20 HR and 61 RBI, scoring 111 runs and racking up 200 hits
No steroids just natural God given athletics that’s legit
The winner of five Gold Gloves and 358 career stolen bases
So many opponents and haters he leaves them with tear filled eyes and permanent grinned faces
The idea in baseball is to score more runs than the other guy, which is how Jeter earned his living
Respect is definitely earned not given
“Derek has been the benchmark for character and class in a baseball uniform. He has inspired a generation to play baseball the way it was meant to be played. It has been an honor to play against him. On a lighter note this means two things: no more clutch hits against the Rays AND, another pooling of funds to buy a Yankee a farewell gift! Cheers to him”
— Rays third baseman Evan Longoria
Categories:
racking, baseball, goodbye, retirement, sports,
Form:
Rhyme
There's a name for me
Involuntary childless
And I can't escape this
It's everywhere I look
Being an involuntary childless
Made my pain too real
It's everywhere I go
Stalking me like an unwanted lover
Under the sheets
Creeping up when asleep
Dreaming a fat belly, glowing perfectly
I cried a day I suppose
I expect more
But now there's a name for me
Charities I never knew
others as me
Scared of the supermarket
Afraid to walk the dog
Not wanting the cheers of children near
I never knew
I never knew it would be too real
I am an involuntary childless
This exact name for me
I should be happy
Feel some sort of relief
But I don't
You see now there's a name for me
Charities
There's others feeling as this
loneliness so cruel
Life feeling pointless
A silence between holding hands
A missing atom
This world is deverstation for me
And i wouldn't wish this on anyone
But now there's a name for it
I feel worse than I did
This Lonely place others also exist
For them I feel hurt, intolerable pain
Racking through my chest
Finding it hard to breath
Others should not be with me in this dark cavern
Not knowing where their life is going
All on hold for wanting
My husband loves me
Although the missing is still there
Shall always be near
I wanted to leave
Stand alone
Letting him have a piece of paradise
A life with
Not being without
Not being an involuntary childless
The worst hurt occurred
When his mother told him not to leave
Stand by me
As if I'm an object he could put down
As I don't work properly
Just an object
Not a good one at that
That's when it hurt the most
As I was turned into and object
That doesn't work
As though our love, marriage now means nought
As I'm involuntary childless
I'm an object that doesn't work
Categories:
racking, health,
Form:
Free verse
Life is a playground, the fun never ends.
Not a care in the world, just run around with your friends.
Doodling on the walls
Playing house with your dolls.
Chasing boys around with cooties
But only those you think are cuties.
A scraped knee covered with a Hello Kitty band aid.
“There’s no monster under your bed, don’t be afraid”
Said Daddy, after a bedtime story.
Suddenly you realize- Dad’s jokes are getting too corny.
Life is an avalanche, no one understands.
Why does nobody get your obsession with this boy band?
Mom is too naggy
Your classmate is too braggy.
Chasing deadlines for essays due weeks ago
Procrastinating,contemplating; you’ve hit an all time low
You’re hungry, but you’re fat.
Each week there’s a new pimple to pick at
“I think he likes you,” whispers your friend.
But you know he only likes you for your backend.
Suddenly, you realize- you’re no longer updated with the latest trends.
Life is an overflowing agenda, it’s nerve racking
Responsibilities and bills just keep stacking.
The baby’s awake at two am again
You blink once, and suddenly he’s ten.
Now you’re Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter bunny all rolled into one
Did you really just make that lame pun?
You realize that you sound just like Mom.
When your son brings home a girl, it’s hard to remain calm.
Your husband finds a gray hair on you
And you can’t help but feel a bit blue.
Suddenly, you realize- you’re sitting at your baby’s wedding pew.
Life is a daydream, you reminisce about the past.
How long did eighty years really last?
Sour moods and achy bones
The children moved out, you are now alone.
Open a photo album, look and see.
“Wow, was that really me?”
The fireplace crackles, the rocking chair creaks
You sit your granddaughter on your lap and pinch her cheeks.
“I had pigtails just like you when I was your age”
Suddenly, you realize- it is now your time to exit the stage.
Categories:
racking, age, granddaughter, identity, life,
Form:
There was a woodpecker whacking,
Continuous sound nerve-racking.
Distressed in the mind,
Making my teeth grind,
Tap-tapping will send me packing.
Standing outside, I clapped my hands,
Sending him off to no-man's land.
But no, he just sat,
And started to tap.
His tapping, how will I withstand?
For Poet Destroyer's contest, 'Silly (Funny)'
Categories:
racking, bird, humor,
Form:
Limerick
Composing in regards to a quickie,
I will leave to those Soupers more frisky.
Therefore, I shall abstain,
From racking my poor brain,
To muse upon a matter so risky!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Entry for Skat's "A Quickie" Contest (19 June 2014)
Categories:
racking, humorous,
Form:
Limerick