Thomas Hobson (1544 –1631)
in 19th century late
a Cambridge ostler and postal carrier
set his priorities straight
he owned a livery stable
of 40 Hackney horses or more
plus boots bridles and whips
and put the horse the cart before
after the animal left the barn
by bolting fast the door
and as precautionary balm
the nag nearest the stable gate
the worn-out equine storm to calm
was the firm rule he did make
this one or none in the stall
was that which customers had to take
or do with no ride at all
but for the paying equestrians
either way they win or lose
as there was no choice but accept or reject
for any of them to choose
Categories:
bridles, animal, fun, horse, humorous,
Form: Rhyme
Why the curved sword, Joshua?
"The signal for the ambush,
And a wily subterfuge!
Ai will be reaped by Yahweh.
The whole field, corners, too.
No one will be left to gather.
He exposes Ai's warriors-
The burning city behind,
The ravine in front,
The king of Ai is a fool,
Leaving the city undefended.
Presumptive pride's defeat!
There can be no refuge,
When there's no Substitute,
When Yahweh attacks His enemies."
Why the curved sword, Son of Man?
"The Earth's harvest is ripe,
I must reap swiftly and fully!
Big Lie Country will be reaped,
The Son will proceed to judge,
Earth's bad grapes are over-ripe!
I will swing the curved sword,
Gather in the bad grapes,
And toss them into the wine press!
Fools say there is no God,
Calling evil good and good evil.
Presumptive pride's defeat!
The rocks cannot hide them,
When they reject the Substitute,
When the Son attacks His enemies."
Then I saw the winepress of God,
Where the blood of bad grapes
Reached the height of horses' bridles
For a distance of 200 miles.
But blessed are those,
Who die in the Lord,
For there's no sin in Him.
Our Substitute redeems!
Categories:
bridles, bible, faith, forgiveness, jesus,
Form: Free verse
Patience
Is the wise charioteer that holds the bridles of the impetus
For
To guide us safely over the hurdles of recklessness and haste!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
12 April 2021
* I would like to thank all of my friends who visit and comment, as well as the officials responsible for the honor of POTD bestowed! Blessings!
Categories:
bridles, metaphor, wisdom,
Form: Epigram
It is spring and a little bird's singing,
It's exulting again in the flight,
Do not lie to me clove that you're seeming
that the lilies bloom wildly and bright.
Oh, I do not believe for some reason,
Let the sun is so fondle to me,
I'm like deaf, but the waking up season
rings with whispering stream that does flee.
The grass rises to heaven, it's noisy,
And collecting the dewdrops of May
Beetle chirps in the green very closely,
And the sudden wind blows it away.
Let it chirps me again, I don't listen,
I have not met with miracles yet,
I'm like deaf, but the waking up season
vivifies our wood that was dead.
And the hearts beat around, pay attention,
And the fire's in eyes of the maids,
And the horses bite bridles of passion
without sparing the blush for the face.
Oh, I do not believe for some reason,
Heart has so many burns, wounds still bleed,
I'm like deaf, but the waking up season
is alluring with sweetest deceit.
Categories:
bridles, emotions, feelings, hope, metaphor,
Form: Lyric
When the last roundup's all been done
The brandin' irons have cooled
When the spurs are hangin' on the wall
The bridles all are jeweled
There's a place where the grass is sweet
Water runs cool and clear
There are no fences or corrals
Danger is never near
That is where horses go, my friend
Paradise to run free
A life well lived and rest well earned
A perfect place to be
Sometimes a cowboy passes by
Goin' to his reward
Tears will fall as he tips his hat
He had no better pard'
3-7-20
Contest: Some Paradise Where Horses Go
Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner
Categories:
bridles, horse,
Form: Cowboy Poetry
Heroes and heroines need to save the world,
on a regular basic to keep the image bold.
They declare that poor people are stupid,
not having the capacity to help themselves included.
Having a barby doll degree in social signs and law,
they know all the better for all.
Famous people become the perfect jingle,
to create attention in dire need to mingle.
While everybody knows,
most money get swallowed by managing NGO’s.
Truck loads of reject shoes for free,
killing the entrepreneurship of the shoemaker clear to see.
10.000 NGO’s in poverty land,
providing change for the rich and brand.
Self elected wasters crown themselves with sympathy,
adding false stories to the conspiracy.
Volunteers of conscious working for free are needed,
reference on CV’s in humanity proceeded.
While in the meantime the economic infrastructure bridles away,
the philanthropist in its new car is on its way.
Entertaining the poor with a noble proof,
to sustain the heart quenching spoof.
Oh, most mistaken guilt so profitable and sweet,
keeping the balance in the account of deed.
Holding down the poor economic contrive to bring,
while riches establish itself to a dull and idle thing.
Categories:
bridles, 10th grade, business, celebrity,
Form: Ballade
Dread clutched her throat
As captains picked their teams
Even though she had desire
She never allowed herself to dream
He watched them divide up
Into groups of ten
He was number twenty-one
It was clear, no one needed him
Friends all married and on their way
She still lived at her childhood home
No one had to tell her....overlooked
She would trudge through life, alone
Always weird, definitely different
Coworkers are like bullies on the playground
The words at recess passed with time
But the shunning in the break room, reverberates the silent sound
Out of all the people one could have picked
No one would even notice the throng below the idols
Stepped on, used as ladder rungs
So the important can ride the stallion with bejeweled bridles
....to the OVERLOOK
Position is everything
In a system that values power
But humility accepts the position
Without the compulsion to cower
...to man
Written by Trudy Schrader on 04-11-2019
Note: I felt overlooked for most of my life, until Daddy God showed me that HE overSEES everything that concerns me. I don't always like where He has led me, but I would not change a thing....and I am eternally grateful :)
Categories:
bridles, power,
Form: Rhyme
Firmly the bridles of a fickle heart should be held by loyalty, if we wish love to grow!
(c) Demetrios Trifiatis
24 August 2016
Categories:
bridles, heart, love,
Form: Monoku
Behind the stable doors of green,
the racing horses can be seen,
quite highly trained, they're strong and lean.
They must be seen! They must be seen!
All working there, they form a team;
the saddles and the bridles gleam.
Race prep'rations are a scheme
to win the cream! to win the cream!
They're waiting for the starter's call,
when they'll be taken from their stall.
They are prepared and none will loll.
The time will crawl! The time will crawl!
Returning from the race just run,
each one has answered starter's gun.
Their hides are gleaming in the sun
and some have won! and some have won!
Categories:
bridles, horse,
Form: Monorhyme
Judgement’s fine line runs betwixt Prudentia’s
Right and Left hands. In her right, the mirror
Offers serious reflection on life
Lessons learned in crucibles of choice --
Wisdom bridles rash reactive impulse.
But in her left is the serpent coil’d,
Hissing, intimidating, strike ready
With venom of conscience paralysis.
Counting the cost, thinking alternative
Courses to their conclusive end, is right.
What motivates me to action? Impulse
Of vengeance, or sure defense of the Truth?
But Fear of the Cost’s inconvenience is
Cowardice cloak for blind eyes turn’d away.
Categories:
bridles, christian, faith, inspirational,
Form: Sonnet
Oh reason,
The bridles of uncontrollable rage, hold
Firmly into your hands
So
The edifice of my character, never to be
Demolished !
(C) Demetrios Trifiatis
15 January 2016
Categories:
bridles, anger, character,
Form: Epigram
I am the end,
the last act, the final fleck,
the teeny, tiny terminal pixel,
but I am mighty.
I may be small but I have muscle.
I apply the brakes
and the word parade obeys.
I hold up my hand, blow my whistle,
and watch the traffic halt.
I am the language transit cop,
the red road sign painted "STOP!"
Language is my rodeo;
I corral the wild vocabulary ponies,
break them,
make them wear bits, bridles;
I am the word whisperer.
Important documents -
The Constitution of the United States of America,
The Bill of Rights,
The Emancipation Proclamation -
are what they are because of my mark;
without it, they would be gibberish.
Books would be nonsensical run on sentences,
characters shuffling willy-nilly everywhere,
no order, no structure,
misunderstood,
just silly words wagging their tongues.
I am Doctor Lockjaw;
I bar the word mill door.
Language is my life.
Copyright, September 9, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
bridles, words, writing,
Form: Personification
Wisdom is a fire, a little enlightens and much burns,
Insight and experience are an added fillip,
Some folks are wise and some are otherwise,
Delinquent in his quick temper dithers,
Ore of gold mixed with precious stones,
Man so erudite is a gem bridles ensuant yen !!
Categories:
bridles, wisdom,
Form: Acrostic
BERSHEBA BATTLE W.W.1
Horses sensed the coming battle,
Heard sabres rattling to be free.
Fed a nose bag of oats, and the rattle,
Of bayonets on the rifles, old Brumby
Off they are now, at a good trot.
Lining up for the Turks to see,
Held in check bridles curbed, or not,
Cantered, galloped now recklessly.
Galloping over the open ground
Yelling cursing so merrily
In amongst the Turks they bound
Slashing shooting with such bravery.
So the Turkish trench is now taken
Old horse got a drink this you see
Droving job with prisoners a making
Charge of the light brigade with me
Don Johnson
Oats for strength and spirit with a horse,
do you ride well enough to try it...
Categories:
bridles, adventure,
Form: Ballade
he bridles his horse
and swings into the saddle
for a journey that’s long
and driven by passion
he left her in the valley
and the months had been hard
it was time to head home
and to her waiting arms
her voice was the wind
whispering in his ear
pushing him harder
bringing him near
he rides through the day
till he’s weary and beat
under unrelenting sun
and the desert’s heat
he spurs his horse onward
stars now light the sky
and when he beds down
he dreams of green eyes
he wakes very early
one more day’s ride
till he’s back in the valley
till she’s by his side
once again he mounts
and gallops to the west
heading for the mountains
and an end to this quest
he’ll be there by nightfall
renewing all that he’d left
the months of pure torture
months feeling bereft
and the wind that blows on him
is gentle and sweet
it’s calling him home
this time never to leave
Categories:
bridles, lovetime,
Form: Verse
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