Long Steeds Poems
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Ballet of Death
As trumpets prepare emotions
This sordid art knows well
My hooves stomp impatiently
Raising clouds of dust
Enshrouding my entrance
With shouts and whistles
A crowd's tense moments
Engulf this gladiator's arena
Demanding courage and blood
Far away
The grassy hills
Of his Ganaderias estate
Stands my sire
Now out to pasture
Erect and proud
Amidst sadness retirement brings
Once close to arena fame
Determined better as stud
He raises his head
The air has changed
He knows the scent of fear
The distance it can travel
He scrapes the ground
The matador awaits the pageantry
I shoulder my pen bars
Holding back muscled power
Energy primed for destruction
My challenger readies his cape
I squint at the sun through dusty air
A beast's freedom that might have been
Were not this
My first time
Most likely
My last time
Such brutal grandeur awaits
Stage one Banderilleros
Astride proud mounts
Parading to applause
Preparing to tempt my will
Their colorful presence
To test my vision
The picadors await stage two
Armed with lance
Saddled atop padded and blindfolded steeds
Ready to break my will
What will their first piercing feel like?
Will my neck be numb for the rest
Or will it but set afire my zeal to live?
Banderilleros anticipate stage three
Their barbed banderillas
Flag-like with colored local papers
Held ready to weaken my neck further
My loins tremble with hope
Knowing my destiny is to charge
Expend my energy
Then... trample my own blood
As the magnificent matador and I
Perform our finite ballet
This dance of death
My enclosure's bolt is about to be lifted
Soon
Very soon
The matador's flourishing cape
Its crimson and gold tricks of ecstasy
Will swirl about and around
The stoic-faced tempter
Suddenly grinning with anticipation
While soiling himself
The piercing will come
I'll not allow pain any glory
I will drool
Defecate
Urinate
My legs will buckle
The sword now in my neck
The nerves failing my brain
Blood loss weakening my heart
Suffering passing quickly
I'll at last experience
Man's insane pleasure
My fallen passion
Bathed in blood
Dragged away by rope and horse
So many hours
So many training capes
So many horses taunting me
So many chances to fail into freedom
Chances to be respected
Like my father
Faithful father
I will miss you
Written: May 06, 2025 for contest by Edward Ibeh
*************************
Like kernels, the day's enigmas start to unfold,
The green folk are still waiting, eager to corrode.
The creaks of a shaky bridge echo pain and despair,
Connecting the shining heights where flows the air.
A vibrant veil of violin weaves, with fiery flares bright,
As the bus rolls by, mourners gaze at fading light.
It appears that diligence fails to become a hero
Signs may lead us to Rome, yet destiny is Nero.
Let's begin our journey to reclaim Rome,
To restore sovereignty of our cherished homes.
Everyone rallies behind me in this quest.
Yet home builders destroyed bluebird's nest.
Gather your steeds and your weapons,
Steer clear of the roots of Agropyron repens.
We engage with the tasks at hand,
Weaponless, knock on doors, striking with firm stand.
A prosperous goal feels like a distant dream.
Greed drives man, hope and desire fuel the scheme,
Until he clings to the fragile bridge suspended high,
Stretched over an abyss where destruction lies nigh.
Rome wasn’t built by mere artistry or lore,
Nor by tales sung to Babylon’s god, Marduk of yore.
Chaldean Dynasty measured the world in degrees,
While at Napoleon’s Circle, first trapeze swayed with ease.
The icy chains bind the Scythian main,
Once inhabited by barbarians on the eastern plain.
Watch as homes with cracked walls slowly decay,
In trendy townships, where clay fills the hallways.
Silent nights scream, a pale face turned to the wall,
Men forget the pain, and that becomes their downfall.
We labor with crimson lips that pulse with each kiss,
Longing for cold, clasping arms that we sorely miss.
Mourners depart, unraveling the chain,
Sadly, the dead linger in our souls to die in vain.
For memory flickers like a flame, it rises and goes,
Sinking in human light, grief swells in woes.
Cross the Rubicon with us, liberate those in need.
Are you with us in this noble cause, fellow friends indeed?
Unless we’re overwhelmed by terror, there’s no turning back.
Join us as we march to safeguard the areas and their tracks.
Run freedom child; keep thy body low amongst the shadows,
Nay never look back, lets hastes speed excel your stride,
For the devil’s steeds ride behind thee, and they’ll show thee
No mercy, run freedom child, run, towards the distant horizon.
Travel beneath the lunar light of the lantern moon, let its
Rays of illumination guild thee, towards liberties jurisdiction,
To the northern boarders beyond slavery's killing fields.
Beware the night-stalkers whom ride by the white lightening’s
Flash and sting at the bared flesh with the task-masters lash,
Humanities wolf pack on a blood scent’s travel, biting at thy
Unsaddled heals, Run freedom child, Run, for they are a Coming!
Deep within the hollows divides listen to the whispering winds,
It echoes with a low mournful tone, a sounding’s rheum vibrating,
With a shock waves raw force of power, it is rails of freedom
Burning towards thee, Harken freedom child, and listen to the
Thunderous cries of the Underground Railroad.
A payments ticket price, is the will to survivor as a free man,
Stamped by the inner beating heart’s desire, to taste the air of
Liberation, and to soar with his winged appendages outwardly
Amongst kindred flock as equals.
Beware my friend for far above thee, two birds of prey are
At battles striking range, for your soul’s precious blood.
Behold the southern night hawk, struggles to drag thee back
To entrance of hells gates plantation, yet the great eagles
Sharpened talons are driven deeply within its crimson bleeding
Flesh of ignorance, biding thee time to flee to freedoms
Safety zone.
Run freedom child; keep thy body low amongst the shadows,
Nay never look back, lets hastes speed excel your stride,
For the devil’s steeds ride behind thee, and they’ll show thee
No mercy, run freedom child, run, towards the distant horizon.
All aboard cling to the iron handles of the freedom train,
Ride by the light of the shivery moon’s lantern of illumination,
And harken to the sounding’s echo of freedom’s distant winds,
Calling unto the souls of all men to be free, to excel, and to
Soar with the currents of equality as equals, amongst thee
Brother’s kindred.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
My mate Jim and I were tired of working for a boss.
We decided to buy a truck and give the 9 to 5 a toss.
We set up a little business, taking produce to the stalls.
It was just an idea we had about the time fortune calls.
We had a load of melons headed up to Jurien Bay,
They had to be at the markets bright an early next day.
Making good time, we would get there before dawn.
It had rained a tidy sky full, the road was rough and worn.
Suddenly the truck went slip slidin, we thought a flat tyre.
As we spied the scene she was sinking in a huge quagmire.
Now the burden of our troubles seemed too much to carry.
Near us was a house, we found out, belonged to Big Harry.
He was a retired farrier and a horseman dont you know it .
His reputation we heard was that of just an old poet.
Jim and I we pushed like Samson and Hercules,
All the good that did was just bury us to our knees.
Suddenly, we see a sight better than cavalry forces,
It was Big Harry leading two huge fine draught horses.
Over his arm he had slung harness and yoke and chains
Harnessing them, and there’s only the chain that remains.
“ Will ya axel take the stain? “ he asked in a shaky old voice.
“Yeah it should” I replied, so excited I was ready to rejoice.
We helped the poor feeble old man fix the chains to the truck.
Now stand back you two, there will be all sorts of flying muck.
Then he started giving orders to his two big handsome steeds.
His voice grew strong and powerful , orders were not pleads.
Words resplendent flowed, the beasts pushed to the core.
He cursed and swore an bullied them into giving a little more.
Those two beautiful horses pulled with all their might,
He shouted as the horses strained, ”it’s in a glue pot all right”
The golden horse called Ranger made a slip and nearly fell.
Big Harry let loose with language that’d make em blush in hell.
With one almighty heave the truck surged forward , higher.
It rolled up and out , free from the hold of that quagmire.
In a feeble old voice, “there ya go lads, thank Ranger n Thunder”
Folks will say he’s just an old poet, but to us he’s a bloomin wonder.
Of a distant pass, I am aware
It's said that Satan once dwelt there
Where zombies roamed without a care
And sounds of torture filled the air
Where demons guarded gates to hell
And warlocks gathered to cast their spell
Where tyrants went with souls to sell
and so many heroes, in battle fell
Where roots of terror had begun
And freedom was a right to none
Where moon refused to yield to sun
It was the road they called Red Run
Blood stained the walls, and blood filled the wells
The land never cleansed, for the rains never fell
Where men fought evil, but failed to repel
Where women all prayed, while little eyes swelled
Then off in the distance, a glimmering light
Shined from the dark in the dead of the night
A soldier of heaven was joining the fight
He donned golden armor, a mythical knight
He knew all his life that he would be the one
To vanquish the darkness and bring back the sun
He would not rest, before the war was won
And peace was restored to the road called Red Run
He road through the pass
Sun low at his back
And with each gallop forward
A light filled the black
Satan knowingly raised his head
for he felt the warriors presence
He mumbled the ancient curse of the dead
As he rumbled his way through the peasants
To slay another hero
To shadow the sun's bright beam
To end these futile hopes of freedom
To kill yet one more dream
Soon they met, upon their steeds
They met with swords in hand
One would soon be dead indeed
And silence covered the land
Their eyes then locked, and began this battle
Thunder crushed the conflicted sky
All the mountains shook and rattled
The wind released a sigh
Then silence returned, this fury complete
But only one, remained on his feet
The other lie still,bye the side of the street
Yes Satan was cast to the depths of defeat
The sun then rose high, the dove could now sing
The people all gathered to greet their new king
For he would now lead them to ages of peace
This death and destruction would finally cease
Rebirth had begun, the fight was now won
This darkest of hours was finally done
But the legend does read, that The Devil's own son
One day would return, to the road called Red Run
.
Like the disappearing sun of yesterday ( )
So has her childhood dissolved away ( // )
With two white steeds that are the trees ( / / )
She is the leaf, marauder of the breeze / /
She rides against the wind
/ / /
Her name is Rain
Born with the grain of knowing
Sight to the blind who cannot see tomorrow
Or view the valleys of the past
/ / Tho', ...be not envious of her rampant blood!
Where origins are buried in another world
Where voices speak in lost syllables
In a language of no forgetting
Where the laughter of the birds is still
And clouds shed only a torrent of tears
/ / /
For she would rather turn her face to the sky
/ And feel the gentleness of the mist
She has a burning desire to be free
Free of the gift
/ / Free of the burden
Free of the knowledge that has taken her innocence
// // /
A voice of the thunder calls her
Invites her to fly beyond the clouds
So the earth can be beautiful
Where the sun comes after the rain
/ Where the drought is over at last
/ Where rain becomes rainbows
She is the leaf.....maurader of the breeze
/ / Her name is Rain
____
For Constance La France's contest "Rain, The Story"
With his weary fingers bending
Around the neck, touching the strings
Like he caresses his wife, intimately
Struggling to feel the perfect pose
Music softens the moments of solitude
~
Within her grasp she grips gently
Round the brush, tenderly, with affection
Clasping as she would a child’s cheek
Whispering smooth strokes along the canvas
Painting the reflections of her feelings
~
With his work worn hands feeling
Manipulating the clay, moving it quietly
Swaying, dancing, molding the mud
Wrestling the shape into a form he envisions
Will reach into another’s soul, sending wisdom
~
Within her embrace are sweet mares, stallions
Listening with bent ear to her murmurs
Reciting to them, revealing, peaceful dreams
Collections of wise hopes that create steeds
Who will be ridden across the mountains and beaches
~
With his ability to speak with the fragrant earth
Cultivating emerald stalks and seas of vivid blooms
Reflections of sun and rain, rising from the hazy morn
Waking to honeyed hues of dewdrop roses and ferns
Purifying the ground with seeds that abound, grow wild
~
Within her anointed grip, she holds treasured mysteries
Crafting quilts, pillows, a history of needle and threads
Brilliantly colored yarns that dance with tantalizing dyes
Hinting at sensitive gestures known only to hands born
For fashioning yards of linen with a skill that is mystifying
~
With his passionate muse capturing the emotions known
Only to those who have felt strongly; love, joy, intimacy
Moods that dance from the pages filled with so many words
Verses, prose and poems, welcoming the reader’s attention
To details which brave the weather and come alive with insights
~
Gifts sent from heaven to souls who long to give back to Him
Some small creation which will help another see that the answers
All point toward the creator who gave these gifts of love!
Gifts poetry contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
Written and Posted on June 18, 2020
Fool of Infiniti
A wanton bird pecks at the stars
A Jester peers through crystal bars
This prison of love with rainbow hue
Illusion parts to lets you through
On dragon wings forever free
You quest into your dreams to see
Smoke and mirrors and shadow haze
To guide you through an endless maze
Slow motion tear rolls down her cheek
Its only passion that you seek ?
Engulfed in strange duality.
She wonders her reality
Your eyes still mock her with desire
Your kisses light her inner fire
Your touch can melt her to your will
But you will never take your fill
Black widow spider guards your heart
She spun the web, she keeps it taut
It is your only fatal flaw.
A secret, silent metaphor.
And all about her swirl the dreams
The nightmares all with voiceless screams
And in her hand the strangest key
To fit the door of What Will Be ?
And when her eyes search yours again
You take her to the spider den
You spin the dreams she hopes to see
And lock your hearts in mystery.
So enter in to lick the flame
Eternal prisoner of the game
Illusion is false imagery
She whispers your Infinity
The Queen of Fate
The Queen of Fate by the outer Gate
Her carriage to Nowhere, will await
Her cloak is wrapped against the night
Her eyes are wide with peculiar fright
Gray horses eyes turn back in fear
With thunderclaps upon her ear
Blue jagged lightning points the way
Along the path to yesterday
Cold, sullen driver cracks his whip
His crooked smile curls round his lip
His horses leap the cruel abyss
Dark Queen of Fate sees none amiss
Above the mist a gate appears
Who will wipe the Gate-man's tears ?
Gray horses strike and paw the air
Fate Queen ascends the carriage stair
And all about her swirl the dreams
The nightmares all with voiceless screams
And in her hand a wondrous key
To lock Enigma's Mystery
Pass through the gate O Queen of Fate
Another carriage will await
Drawn by steeds of Promises
Illusion starts and finishes.
Hooves of aquatic thunder these white steeds
Of wonder, slamming against the coral reef
As hail storms rage, set us free their voices
Softly speak through the seashells littering
The sandy beach.
Enchantments cursed beast of purity’s beauty
Trapped within the foam and spray, touching
Almost the land then in sorrow’s undertow
Driven back is this mystical herd of wild
Mustangs.
Poseidon’s sacred water horses, surfing
Within the frothy s riptide of mermaid tears,
Clashing their silvery horse shoes, against the
Rocky edges of the under currents tidal surge
These titans of the fathoms deepest depths.
Lightening immortals shimmering, bathing
Translucent beneath the hued blue waves,
The last unicorns beg for release, to run
Freedom trails once more, to feel the
Mountains breezes of liberation flowing
Through their milk white manes again.
But silence is the reply from their capturer,
Unmoved is his trident of power, sitting on
His ivory thrown Poseidon watches these
Wonders of myth, and relishes in their
Spectacular beauty, vowing never to
Set them free, thee belong to me, my
Sacred water steeds of the bluest deep.
Within the seashells hear them weep,
These creatures of the mystical realm,
Crying out, release us please, can thrust,
Not hear us.
Out of the water, to feel mother earth
Beneath our silver hooves, we give our
Horns of crystal power, or the shimmering
Shine that beguiles our under sea father.
Out of the water, we’d roam in the wilderness
Wild, roll amongst the sandy duns of the desert,
Climb the mountain tops heights, and breath
The sweet air of freedom within our lungs.
Out of the water, for just one single day,
We sacrifice all that we are, or were in
Mysticism mystical realm, just to be free!
Hooves of aquatic thunder these white steeds
Of wonder, slamming against the coral reef
As hail storms rage, set us free their voices
Softly speak through the seashells littering
The sandy beach.
On a ranch in Arizona Big Daddy was the horse
He beat all the other steeds, on this, his home course
He wasn’t bigger or better, determination was his game
He ran for the love of the stable mare. Queen was her name
He ruled the ranch many years with Queen by his side
Then one day a new stallion would challenge BD’s pride
This new horse was called Teacher, with a stride long and steady
He was younger, stronger and sleeker, than old gray Big Daddy
He strutted his stuff confident he could bring BD down
Soon he would rule the ranch, and he would were the crown
This young stud had caught the eye of the lady Queen
This was the race of BD’s life, because he could lose his dream
She said don’t worry Big Daddy I have faith in you
No other horse will share my stall it’s made for just us two
The race was on, BD ran strong, her words he did not forget
But what Big Daddy didn’t know, it was on Teacher that she bet
Around the track side-by-side, each matching the other’s pace
Teacher still looking fresh, but strain on BD’s face
As they approached the finish line it was BD by a hair
But then he heard the voice, of his lovely mare
Go Teacher! You can do it! I will be your prize!
BD lost his will to win from the shock and surprise
So the new horse won the Queen and control of the ranch
He said to old BD, you never had a chance
I can give what pleases her, as he said with laughter
A life that’s full and easier, with much greener pastures
She told BD, her love had been real, it was not a fake
But telling him he could win, was a big mistake
So Big Daddy lost his place, the stallion now the King
Teacher now rules the ranch with his beautiful Queen
His spirit gone, with no will to race
Big Daddy has moved to another place
He grazes now in a field alone
Wishing he could go back home
But never again will Big Daddy prance
With his Queen… on the Arizona Ranch
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