NEXT EXIT BABYLON
They raised their cups
Splashed their wine
It ran with blood
through vein and vine
Where Satyrs' hoofs
Pawed with fight
Tunics fell
Laurels twine
Lips were bit
Breasts were held
Brands, hot, brought
The coals of Hell
Seared the flesh
With Saturn's breath
Number-Lot
To buy and sell
On tables, neat
Both man and Beast
Blessed their bread
Cursed their meat
Great hills of brick
They pulled the dead
Like babes, reborn
Out crawled the sick
The dogs wore crowns
Of broken bone
Like sacred cows
Left free to roam
They raised their snouts
Bared their teeth
Barked and growled
And joined the feast
Always thought God's an odd bod
Untruths like hoofs stuck in a clod
Over us aloof just run roughshod
So don't give love above the nod
No proof where Angels ever trod
More encores from the laws of sod
Each church on a perch made a wad
Will besmirch then constantly prod
Tribal bible merch from God squad
Us all in the lurch bait on their rod
We're all just peas in the same pod
No merry on sherry on vicar's quad
Fickle like feather tickle of Ken Dodd
As through the strife of life we plod
Always been more rocker than mod
But still we are all carriers of the hod
As yes ultimately we're all on our tod
Because yes confess there is no God
Candy cane bull put his hoofs around his sweets
He loved sugar and peppermint, he was fond of his treats
His mother suggested wheat, soybeans or another grain born
you can eat that stuff he said, I want candy corn
the vampire queen was on the hunt at the vampire ball
vultures, beasts and demons came to her as if by a call
she transmogrified devils into trolls with one flick
this queen was cagey, incredibly sneaky and slick
in the vampire king’s manor, the ballroom was dimly lit,
gnomes were as at home here as claws and hoofs that fit.
there is a hunger that must be satisfied, this is for sure.
the vampire queen advanced quickly, her motives impure.
hidden in the dark, dank, dismal shadows was the vampire king.
watching the queen with all of his might, her neck quite the thing.
the dance began slowly, as he advanced from her left without genuflect.
She turned and gave him that come-hither look and let him see her neck.
NO FEAR OF TERRORISTS THREATS FROM DANITA DELMONT AGENT MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND MULES SMUGGLING DRUGS AND LAUNDERING THE STASH UNDER MY TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY OPERATION SOUIX CITY INTERNAL AFFAIRS LITERALLY ABUSE OF POWER 922 822 TALISA SHAW HILTON GOD BLESS AMERICA NO FRAR OF SCUM DEAR DANNY BOY OR GIRL WEARING HOOFS HOUSE HALF HORSE HALF WOMAN GALLOPING AS MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND RIDE THIS FRESK OF NATURE LEAVING SLIME ON MY WINDOW SILL HISSING MULE MULE RUSHING TO CANADA STUFFED WITH DRUGS THE DONKEY THE ASSES CIRO BORROWED FROM TAMPA DANEILLE VENSOR FLEE FROM ME I SMELL YOUR STENCH RAW EGGS NOSE HAIRS TOE FUNGUS OH DANNY BOY OR GIRL SEEKING MY EX HUSBAND WATCHING ME TOO SUN BATHE LISTENING TO MY SISTER'S MOM AND I ON YOUR ILLEGAL EAR PIECES YOU ARE AN ABOMINATION THE SIX THINGS DOTH THE LORD HATES SEVEN IS YOU AN ABOMINATION
The furrows of Life
The narrow way leading up to the farm from the main
the road had a gate, so cattle could not wander off to
the main road getting. The way had three furrows, two
caused by a narrow cartwheel and one- much wider- from
the horse´s hoofs. Deep furrows meant a hard-working
farm. The landscape was flat and often windy on my
way to school, I tried to walk where the horses had trod
the soil was softer there, the horseshoe patterns told
me if it had been a small or big horse that last had pulled
a cart here if the load had been heavy
A useless knowledge, I often wonder
why do I remember it so clearly
like a black-and-white photo?
Lately, I have been remembering these dirt road
the people and animals
I often wonder if there is a message here
I have overlooked it.
Medieval times
A time of splendour
With gallant Knights
Ladies so slender
Jousting tournaments
The ladies all squeal
Exploding of hoofs
The clash of steel
Enter the Black Knight
To a round of jeers
The White Knight enters
To resounding cheers
First pass no foul
They try it once more
The Knight in White
Slumps to the floor
They carry him off
And tend to his wounds
A Blue Knight appears
The ladies all swoon
The maidens favourite
Known far and wide
Lord Richard of Leeds
His lance by his side
They ready for battle
Shields are in place
Masks of armour
Covering their face
Towards each other
They gallop full speed
Lances held high
The snorting of steeds
The Black Knight falls
The hero wins out
Blue Knight celebrates
Victory in the joust
Approaching the King
Horse and rider bow
The people go wild
Allegiance they vow
Medieval times
Hail to the King
Jousting tournaments
What glory they bring
Pleased as punch this mother quite proud
Flips up her tail and neighing so loud
Her gait so lively, her head held high
A bright young mama, once a gleam in her eye
Unbridled spirit, feeling so grand
The spitting image of his dear old man
Romping through fields, free of reins
Thundering hoofs, flying mane
A frisky young colt like dad in his day
Who was quite a stud they were heard to say
Then back to the barn when day is done
This spirited young colt was born to run
Resting for a while batteries recharged
Chomping at the bit, a spirit so large
Such unbridled youth, exuberance defined
This pesky young colt, it's his time to shine
No out
A man coming home from work saw a shadow
a figure leaning against a dead olive polishing
his hoofs and sharpening his scythe.
The man said no, you are too young to harvest
he then took a plane to Madrid
where he got employment at a legal office.
the first day, he knocked on the door
death sat in the chair and said
from now on, you are my helper
Go back home and dispose of your parents and their
time has come, greatly disturbed
the man took a plane home
and the death was leaning against an olive tree
a shadow on a sunny autumnal
day. In the house, his parents said they had buried
their son, but they did not see or hear him,
and the man knew that henceforward he was
Death`s little helper.
Medieval times
A time of splendour
With gallant Knights
Ladies so slender
Jousting tournaments
The ladies all squeal
Exploding of hoofs
The clash of steel
Enter the Black Knight
To a round of jeers
The White Knight enters
To resounding cheers
First pass no foul
They try it once more
The Knight in White
Slumps to the floor
They carry him off
And tend to his wounds
A Blue Knight appears
The ladies all swoon
The maidens favourite
Known far and wide
Lord Richard of Leeds
His lance by his side
They ready for battle
Shields are in place
Masks of armour
Covering their face
Towards each other
They gallop full speed
Lances held high
The snorting of steeds
The Black Knight falls
The hero wins out
Blue Knight celebrates
Victory in the joust
Approaching the King
Horse and rider bow
The people go wild
Allegiance they vow
Medieval times
Hail to the King
Jousting tournaments
What glory they bring
South Korea’s thirteenth guide, who rode Korea as his chariot
Only for six breathes, guided by the thirteenth star of Iscariot
Under the hoofs, he defiled the white flag, as yin and yang turned again
The slave of Seokga, the demiurge of sinful men
Hungry ghost of Chun Doo-hwan, the cornerstone of the people's burden
Killed by the bamboo dragon, the Korean people as one
Opened wide by the dragon’s teeth, showing a slave afraid of the sun
Running away from the dragon and sun, giving up the fight
Enduring all this, the dragon looked to Mount Sorak, to see a light
A bonghwang, with wings wide and free, shining through the flag of white
one hemisphere lit
of split
personality;
Jack O’Lantern rides,
spurring the midnight stallion.
Ichabod’s head spins ‘round,
fear comes forth furiously,
without time
to catch his breath.
a clean cut,
detached from reality.
eyes spinning
within Crane’s inner space;
a pumpkin smash.
was this his nemesis
or the devil himself?
was Katrina worth this,
his head laid upon
the woodpile’s lap?
a dream perhaps?
another Van Winkle written off?
furrows on forehead,
pulp pulsing, scored;
twenty years or so forth.
generations hear of the headless wanderer
only the lovelorn venture off
(and Brom Bones ascendants)
descending into dreams, delusions
or the stampede of midnight hoofs.
Katrina lit a candle in the window
She’ll never be a widow; just blind
Horses, hearty and hale,
Hither they hurry, hooves hitting the trail.
Hear their harmonious hum,
Heavy with history, homeward they come.
Heads held high, with haughty grace,
Hair flowing free, a flowing mane's embrace.
Harness and halter, a humbling hold,
Humble steeds, stories untold.
Hoofs beat a rhythm, a rhythmic refrain,
Horsepower and heart, a powerful strain.
Heroes of history, heroes of yore,
Horses, forever, we'll forever adore.
Morning hoofs a trail of smoke,
Horsepower for modern folk,
With eyes slightly open for pay.
Watch others dive in, do backstroke.
Rock little seahorse
Down under the blue
Rock 'till a new moon
Brings love back to you
Without any hoofs
And a shell for a tail
Rock little seahorse
Let new love prevail
You were left in the ashes
Of romance and ruin
Stuck on a storm shore
That was your undoing
But love is eternal
So why do you cry
Living in sorrow
When love says goodbye
Life is a carnival
Filled with delights
So, find a new sea horse
And rock away this bleak night
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.