Long Horse Poems
Long Horse Poems. Below are the most popular long Horse by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Horse poems by poem length and keyword.
My spirit is smiling but my body is reeling, the pain is riding in my chest and I am almost out of breath. The days have come and gone but my spirit is standing tall, the ocean is moving around and the squirrels are running in and out of the ground. The fishermen are diving and sharks are dining and the crucible is glowing in the dark. See the horsemen coming with bags laden on their backs; they are moving in the direction of the wind and climbing slowing up the hill. I stood on top of the hill watching them toggling along, suddenly a rush of wind came in and knock them off their tired horse and exposed their hidden manly socks. The vultures suddenly flew in from the east and encircle the dying beast they took the laden bags and flew towards the west with the most prized possessions and destiny wrapped up in their hands. I breathe sigh of relief and watch the people celebrating in the streets, the job was finally done and at last I had abundance to eat.
Sap has run dry
Time for me to die
My smile has run away
On the horse of my childhood
Spring will be no more
A season beyond my grasp
Life has fluttered away
Wasted moments, in lines
Gluttonous desires have filled me
With veins of death
No love to hold
No life I am told
Voices dancing in my head
Sweet words after I am dead
Ravens and crows all in black
Line up behind the vultures in suits
The last song, whispers her sad melody
As a silent ghost comes along
To witness my demise
Kissing the cold grey stone
Beholden to dreary skies
As I rest among the rodents and flies
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
“Read my lips,” Bush One said —
You listened close and voted Red.
Taxes rose, spending too —
How’s that working out for you?
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
“It’s the economy, stupid,” Clinton blew —
You bought the line and voted Blue.
Taxes rose, spending too —
How’s that working out for you?
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
“Compassionate Conservative,” G.W. pled —
Sounded nice, so you voted Red.
Taxes rose, spending too —
How’s that working out for you?
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
“Hope and Change,” Obama’s cue —
The pitch was strong, so you voted Blue.
Taxes rose, spending too —
How’s that working out for you?
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
“MAGA, MAGA!” Trump had said —
No better slogan, so you voted Red.
Taxes rose, spending too —
How’s that working out for you?
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
“Build Back Better” was Joe’s view —
Sounded smart, so you voted Blue.
Taxes rose, spending too —
How’s that working out for you?
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
We vote Red, then we vote Blue —
Neither side knows what to do.
Then back to Blue, then Red again —
Why beat a horse that’s long been dead?
Right then Left, then Left then Right —
All they do is brawl and fight.
Line their pockets, make another run —
Holding office sure looks fun.
But We the People hold the key —
It's time to change the strategy.
No more Right on Red or Left on Blue —
Vote Independent — break on through.
Doing the same, expecting new —
Insanity's logic just won’t do.
The two-party game is broken, corrupt —
Time for the people to rise — and disrupt.
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
You’ve got to see the forest through the trees —
You’ve got to be the cure for America’s disease.
I shalt ne'er be a famous bard such as William Shakespeare.
From mine pathetic poetical quill he hath naught to fear!
Mine immoral mot, "Where'er thou mayest be let thine water flow free",
I fear shalt ne'er compare to Bill's immortal line, "To be or not to be!"
"He hath eaten me out of house and home!" could be said of mine cat!
(Why could not I have conceived that line - all I can say is drat!)
"A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!" cried Richard The Third!
(If I had said that, people would have deemed me quite absurd!)
"Brevity is the soul of wit!" and thus "This is the short and long of it!"
Alas, I shan't match wits with Willie so while I'm ahead I'd better quit!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
I worked towards this dream my whole lifetime
But it always seemed just out of my reach
The harder I tried to achieve it,
the further away it seemed to become
I was always told growing up
That I could be whatever I wanted to be
As long as I worked hard for it,
And kept my eye on the ball
No one tells you
No one prepares you for
what happens when you fail
The feeling of defeat, and loss.
That feeling of hopelessness
that seems to envelope you
Mind, body and soul.
I have fought so hard over the years
Tried and failed, just to pick myself up and try again.
Only to realize failure once more
How long do you ride this never ending Carousel?
constantly and consistently
Round and round,
only to end up in the same place you started.
Back to square one, over and over
When is enough, enough?
A day, a week, a month, a year?
When does one decide that
it is no longer feasible
To continue on this path?
To continue the ups and downs
on this roller-coaster of life?
You may even momentarily feel
that you actually are in control,
only to be holding on for dear life
within the next moment,
hoping and praying that you won’t
be ejected and thrown from
the false security of the car that is
barely being held upon the track.
One after the other,
time and time again
Failure after failure,
try after try
As I sit here once more,
after being thrown from
the proverbial horse
Trying to decide if
I should continue this
seemingly never-ending
spiral of failure.
I look back at all of
my attempts to succeed
that ended in failure
Never realizing the pattern
that was before me all along
I see those who have
supported me and had been
brought into my life at the
precise moment they were needed.
I see the places these attempts
took me and how each one
changed me in such a way that
I have become a better person
than I could’ve ever imagined.
I realize how each failure
caused me to become more
determined and more courageous
than I ever would have been
had I not experienced that failure.
So I guess it cannot be perceived
as a failure due to the good that
each experience has created.
I may not have reached
the goal that I have dreamed of
all of my life but what I got instead
is something greater,
something that goes beyond
all of my wildest dreams.
We are not going to recreate Wrestling in this jerks image! It's was said at a press conference. Look he's unified Twenty independents and he's looking to get everybody involvled. "We don't do that!" Well one of the "big League companies made a deal to have there Companies trophy to be put against " the Unified Crown in an efford to stop the madness before it contaimnated even more fans. It backfired and the Championship was lost to the BigDrip and the World Championship of a Major League Company was secondary to an independent company. It happened and it went unmentioned to alot of people. Once again in a different company fan partisipantion caused a champion to loss to a local contender. that company made the rematch following the loss and the local contender rolled out of the ring and was counted out.Saving face the company honored the reign. Nights later the Local contender lossed to the former champion in a humilating defeat.
The Big Drip was to be the guy who cut the ribbon at the Falls Horse Championship Race "Leaves of Fall Trophy Series" in attendance were two revival Pro Champions. Both were from different companies but were freinds off Tv. The BigDrip wasn't close to any intercircle and he often had Sports Managers )outside of wrestling( Ledger his appearances. On camera after the event reporters couldn't help but ask the two champions if they were afraid of the BigDrip. They joked and said the only reson they were there was to help promote the event as fans of Horse racing.
But the Big Drip wasn't as professional or polite he stood proud with his manager and bragged, calling the guys fearing men of success and jerks that didn't apprecate what audeinces wanted.
Hurry the horse is the basis of this story.
The invitation came with just a week till it's glory.
Graces 1st birthday party, well we simply have to go.
So off went Great Grandma and Grandpa to the lumber store in the snow.
5/4" board, 3/4" board, some glue and some screws.
They were so excited to share in the news.
But Grandpa had to hurry, had to get right to work.
So Grandma said I'll go put on the coffee to perk.
Grandpa worked steady, hard and true, but in the end there was just so much to do.
Two days to go, they resigned to a note.
We're making you a rocking horse is what they had wrote.
Uncle Bob offered to help him get it done.
Grandpa said, I think we can, and it sure would be more fun.
To give it to her at her party when she celebrates turning one.
So the day before the big event.
They both got down to task.
And time it flew right off the clock.
But they both determined this horse would rock, on the day of the party to give
Grace a ride.
Time came to give Grace her present.
And all eyes flew open wide.
And you could just feel Grandma and Grandpa's hearts swelll up inside.
So thats the story of Hurry the horse.
Who came to be in a scamper and quite a force.
So happy birthday Grace, from Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle Bob.
We three have never had a more enjoyable job.
THE END
Form:
Greetings from Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
today March 1st, 2021
I dashed (off the enclosed poem) yay
while safely secured within
white horse open sleigh
after reading following
pray lemme know if ye uttered oy vey.
Profound insights divulged
during our most recent family zoom
Approximately seven hundred
and fifty four months since exiting womb,
yours truly (sole son
of late Boyce Brandon -
yes she named him
after paternal grandmother
Sadie, her mom's Yiddish name
Basia Brana or Brandla)
me currently ensconced within unit B44
analogous to catacomb
amid Highland Manor Apartments
I dwell - our livingsocial hole in the wall
among grateful dead residents
facility likened to metaphorical tomb
each stone individually moved one at a time
courtesy hearty and hale archeologists
resident to *Qom
(a city in northwestern Iran -
place of pilgrimage for Shiite Muslims)
to imbibe on spiritual succor
and become comfortably numb
acquiring appropriate trailing appellation,
yes a USDA, FDA, B Corp... and
Pink Floyd approved nom de plume,
which feeble poetic brainstorm
begat within mine
sixty plus shades of gray matter,
which exhaustive mental effort
induced silent but deadly ka-boom
one Matthew Scott Harris
rent asunder vaporized to smithereens,
hence each his personal possessions
cherished as prized heirloom
no trace left behind
regarding pulverized lovely bones,
nevertheless burnt offerings
specialists did painstakingly exhume
where Ashkenazi temple will bloom.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
*My humblest apology for lame rhyme
with previous word similar to crypt
yours truly deserted and he gypped
thee while crawling
across Sahara during nighttime
dehydration subsequently
found me tight lipped
I called Uber, but could not get a lyft.
If you're wheezing, barking and coughin',
You're game for a ride in a coffin
If you're smoking little cigars and cigarettes,
You're a smoking Looney and that's as bad it gets
And another thing, smoking is not your anxiety answer
It's just a good way to give yourself Cancer
You're a smoking Looney Tuney Maniac
And smoking will give you a heart attack
The Cigarette Twit has no good third Eye Sight
You can't convince them of what's wrong or right
With their third eye blind
They are outta their mind!
The smoking twit believes it calms their Nerves and Anxious Mind
But it's just a Placebo Effect they will someday find
With every cigarette you shorten your life
With tumors you may someday be rife
There's only one successful way to quit
You have to go Cold Turkey to get rid of the habit
Eat some candy, chew some gum, crack some Sunflower Seeds
To really stay quit, do whatever you need
One day, if you fall off the Wagon,
And you are again attacked by the Dragon
Because you need a smoke to accompany your Flagon
But now your Family and Friends start to Naggin'
If you think that you're smoking for Mental Health,
You're wrong, smoking is also expensive on your Physical Wealth
If you can't quit Cigarettes, take up Pipe smoking,
You don't inhale, still there's Oral Satisfaction, I'm not joking
If you still think that smoking is Mentally Calming,
Soon it's your who they will be embalming
What goes around comes around
Keep smoking and dead you will be found
If you keep abusing God's Temple,
The lesson to learn is simple
Death with a syckle on a Pale Horse
Will be hunting you down, of course
They say that the end of a poem is hardest to write
They say it's harder than seeing in the darkness of the night
It's not hard when you have good third Eye Sight
I'll show them all that I am right
I've written this stinking poem
Because the Smoking Twit, I know um
What is the most ironic thing
Is the fact that I am The Smo King!
Copyright Jeff W. Watson, July 25, 2026
A Good Clean Slam
Let us investigate the process!
HOW…..HOW…..shall we make
a MUD PIE……without getting dirty???
We shall polish up the words,
buff them to an acceptable finish,
weave them into an undecipherable web
of double entendre, tongue in cheek malapropisms,
drape it sensually in Freudian Slips,
conceal its intent in a Slamming Trojan Horse.
We shall protest – but not too much,
Shout – but not too loudly,
We shall rant – but briefly
stay within the confines of the PC Police lines.
How then shall I tame this rage,
this hard boiled anger?
Contain these tears of fear,
smooth the edges of my life
into a gentle, inoffensive, song?
Would you have me ride into battle
on a doe, carrying a feather?
Offer flowers to those who need cold steel?
Must I rein in my vitriolic vengeance,
curtail my caustic tongue,
creep – snake-like….hissing - balloon-like
spewing my venom in lost droplets,
burning an already scorched soul??
John G. Lawless
5/24/2014
For A Poet Destroyer
Slamming Season contest