Bravo Toro!
Snorting and bloodied in the mid-day sun,
he paws the ground. His angry eye is fixed.
He charges and the matador is spun
off balance, tangled in his cape, he trips.
His suit of lights impaled and tossed aloft,
transfixed, a crumpled rag doll, motionless,
the crowd is silenced. Yet again he’s tossed.
A deep groan from the crowd. The bull, possessed,
exultant in his own in-bred finesse,
senses the blood of generations past
course through his fighting frame until, at last,
distracted and victorious he makes way.
This bull will live to fight another day.
Categories:
toro, animal,
Form: Rhyme
A bull that she took by the horn
Just happened to step on her corn
Forget the piano
He's now a soprano
And wishes he'd never been born!
Categories:
toro, animal,
Form: Limerick
He'd lived for fighting! In the ring,
the matador was hailed as brave.
They said he was the bull fight king.
He'd lived for fighting in the ring.
But then he lost, one day in spring -
his birthday - trampled to his grave.
He'd lived! For fighting in the ring,
the matador was hailed as brave!
written 9th May, for Andrea's Triolet contest
Categories:
toro, career,
Form: Triolet
Snorting and bloodied in the mid-day sun,
He paws the ground. His angry eye is fixed.
He charges and the matador is spun
Off balance. Tangled in his cape, he trips.
His suit of lights impaled and tossed aloft,
Transfixed, a crumpled rag doll, motionless,
The crowd is silenced. Yet again he's tossed.
A deep groan from the crowd. The bull, possessed,
Exultant in his own in-bred finesse,
Senses the blood of generations past
Course through his fighting frame until, at last,
Distracted and victorious he makes way.
This bull will live to fight another day.
Categories:
toro, animal, conflict, sports,
Form: Rhyme
As the crowd cheered his entrance,
el toro looked at the beauty and pageantry of the event.
His heart swelled to know that he had a role to play in all of this celebration.
Too late he discovered that his role would be his last.
As the lance and spears pierce his flesh does he cry in pain?
Does he mourn the fact that his only sin is that of being a powerful, feared animal?
Does anyone partaking in this ceremony realize that he is one of God's creations
and not meant to be slaughtered in this manner?
As the matador pierces his body with his sword, what are his final thoughts?
His death has brought celebration to many - a sad way to have one's spirits lifted
seeing a beautiful creature of God destroyed for the entertainment of a few.
I am sure the Lord did not blink as this travesty was played out, I am sure He cried for His creation
even if no one else would.
Categories:
toro, abuse, angst, animal, bereavement,
Form: Epitaph
Limerick : Once a Toro in a Madrid prairie
Once a Toro in a Madrid prairie
Wondered why it had two horns, not three
Spaniards signal cuckold
With two fingers all told
So three for Spanish husbands in Paris ?*
*Paris : pronounced in French as : Parie/Paree
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Categories:
toro, humor, husband,
Form: Limerick
Limerick : Once a Toro loved by a Matador
Once a Toro* loved by a Matador*
Maimed between shoulders by Picador*
Matador garrocha*
Picador muchacha*
Picador cornudo* Matador.
*Toro : bull raised for fighting in arenas (rings)
*Matador : « matador de toros », bullfighter ; usually
the head « torero », title obtained after the
« alternativa », ceremony honoring the torero
or « novillero », the apprentice bullfighter
*Picador : the well-protected assistant to the matador
on horseback who wounds the toro between
the shoulders in order to cause the bull to hang
its head
*garrocha/garrochar : (to use) the long lance with a metallic
harpoon-like head , wielded by the Picador
*muchacha : Spanish for girl or « daughter » as in this case
*cornudo : cuckolded (husband gored)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Categories:
toro, humorous,
Form: Limerick
TORO TORTURED
I never want another dream to enter my head
If necessary I’ll never again enter my bed
Of late my dreams are all of dreariness and dread
And rather than dream I’d rather be dead
Why, beg I, must I dream every night,
only to awake amidst misery and fright?
With my eyes opened wide all my dreams have been denied
And a diabolical demon held mass when they died
There is thunder in my dreams to shake me awake
And my heart is for midnight quite alone to break
In my dreams lovers all take their leave
And that’s just another reason I fear the eve
So what I must do is like lasso my dreams
Rope them to the ground under mystic moonbeams
In the middle of midnight’s rodeo are dreams of bloody gore
And it seems that the sunshine never settles the score
© 2013 copyright PHREEPOETREE….~.free cee!~
Categories:
toro, angst, dream, dream,
Form: Quatrain