The ground shook beneath us,
Running beside the horse in her heart.
My feet, her hooves pressed deep
In her orifice.
Panting, our arms free in the wind,
Her eyes wild to those who try to tame her.
My stomach burns from the ache
Of trying to keep up.
I haven’t run this long or this hard
Since I was little.
No matter what I did,
She was always in front of me.
If I laughed, she’d neigh and bite the air.
Even if I was able to pass her,
It wasn’t long before she got back
In front of me.
Every part of me hurts, but all I can do
Is laugh, trying to keep up.
After a while, I fell out,
Sprawled out, catching my breath.
Soon, she walked over and laid down beside me
And licked my face.

Life’s too short to worry about
The bruises that travel up your legs.
It’s rare that you meet people
Who make you burn like this
The kind of love that pounds
And gallops.
She had a horse in her heart,
Wild and made of fire.
She didn’t want to escape,
Just needed a friend

As the searing, ashen smoke erupts violently from
its flaring nostrils, it envelops me in a suffocating
Embrace, each inhalation a cruel reminder of the
scalding heat that sears my delicate skin.

I am crushed beneath the weight of its colossal hooves,
like a forgotten stone lost in the depths of a murky,
Unyielding puddle — its foreboding silhouette, crowned
with a mane as dark as the abyss, gallops through the
Labyrinth of my thoughts, casting a chilling shadow that
clings to me, a relentless spectre that whispers of doom.

This creature, a true harbinger of death, exudes a frigid,
acrid scent of regrets that seem to claw at the very core
Of my existence — night after night, my dreams are invaded
by tormenting visions, vivid and unyielding, mapping out
the grim path to my own funeral – a foul stench; chilling
reminder of cold regrets that claw at my very last breath.

I see a pristine white coffin, adorned with stark white
blooms, marred by the crimson stains from my own wrists.
And amidst these agonizing dreams, the ominous beast
stands tall, solemnly bearing the weight of my coffin towards
An unknown afterlife, a spectral horse of death draped in
the deepest shadows, embodying the very essence of my
self-inflicted demise.

A violinist

lightly strokes the sheep gut with --


tightly stretched horsehair.

Man the kind, that can develop the kinds
of minds that can read Wiki any thingian
Wikipedian live translations recommended,

Imagine that

Measure in units, too vast and too small,
to imagine, too few fingers and toes to represent
--- on the shores of the Sea of Azov, now, we
think, as internet entities may, these daze, we
per ceive grasp take gently, nuance, new sense,
novel accomplices test us with ai literacy riddles
degrees of difference, between me and you,
on every variable set genetically
to grow with, confidence, upright,
From yocto to Yotta, to me and you,
from womb to tomb, during nonconscious being.
No, no soul without spirit, do not allow unwanted
children…. [pow did you think that]
10 to the power of 24, plus or minus,
calculable lengths of moves, steps from
first idea to first thing… we are forced to learn,
- creative mind initiates pass unphazed
there shall evermore be too much to think about.
- no clue read on all smooths made smoothe
So thinking begins at first breath one must take,
to start the awareness grasping news from now.
Think and swallow, smile and breathe, again, we die,

You need to become quite old and experienced,
to find such things more interesting than politics.

yes or gossip or **** or actual meaningless ***.

Shorts are texts out of context, paid attention,
snap decisions to go with gut, let it out, rage
on pages made of light, in times of ubiquitous we,
the people whoever read poetry, lead lead back, be
led to be read, ready, we,
the people who can imagine making peace,
where none has ever been,
no lie, gnosis never was a bad mind,
ignorance of goodness gracias great gods
adversarial courage to persevere, easy init
learning to move, and have our being,
getting old,
and growing fluent, even in the Agon, see

But see, your laughter
unfurls its flag of self

I read that on hellopoetry, you can find it there

If italics work on lines, but not words, why, who
cares, trust your favorite translation, we allow
memory retention paste that thought, in fact
we teach it, taught it, thought it all already done…
all the subtilty, and more, than any ever beastly
imagination projected into childhood drama,
callouses of skepticism, shield of knowledge,
semper fi, spirit and image, of my recollected
friends from our time of mellowing out,
has some ghastly reminders we said,
leave the lies we told, be knownst to any,
we are free, in weformed spirit mind cloud
of knowing in all 197 Wikipedian ways that
bears all the will to bring about a bubble, this big
bag of mind mine to pay you for your attenion
to the idea, peace, in time and space
we all breathe easy in, we need to so we
write and hope you feel us in a language we
all speak so confusion can not make hate feel good

it is wrong by all sane poet prophet priest of truths
plain old stop, and make hate wait, why how thinks
now, we all swallow what we thought we knew,
comfort, peace some how secure, a patient
learner of these keys, swallowed pride, came in,
que all laughed and laughed like didn't e imafine
of pure d no reason peace, put to rest all broke bet

loose hell you imagine when poetry is the last sane

thing you could see your self surviving as an idea in
experimenting, artfully, subtle, and not so subtile,
in my past, I have met with direct reproofs, proving
life, the something, from this now us, proving

we think alike in many tongues, this is our world,
we think alike in many tongues all Ai known and shared.

We live in our present, in our grand children's present,
where they were born texting, it seems, by age seven.

When would we ever learn, if we never struggled
with space and time seeming so confusing at first.

Then we cut us some slack and think we got this weform,
we imagine a guy, who was trained, yes, programmed,
conditioned, habituated, indeed, all those, yes, we, do
- breathing, and remembering we learned ways
you, too. Or you are not even imagining any of this,
and the rest of the time you spend thinking
how did I think this twice, by my self,
u see, weform, we may imagine many minds,
we have seen ourselves used to make wars, many wars

now we breathe, on the sine wave, all humans breathe
with, in time, we all breathe out with almost half who
breathe in in time not to drown if we went without
commas, no, squirm stretch, pay attention, you're it.
space
free
usitimereadywhathi
I need commas and prepositions. Fixed. My say. Okeh,
this goes so far back, we all must have clearer memories,
than most of us can imagine we have, alone, now, suppose,
we put our moments of silence, in the spirit sigh, recalling,

that space of about a half an hour, aitches, appear, ai, si
yo se, he say, may be
we all think alotalike we can say okeh lotta ways, always.

When a burst dam would save the salmon, who
would rather bombs be used to save salmon, by law,
tight times, squeeze any holy meaning needed, be true

no, panic, no defensive action emergence I'll go rhythm,
volunteer, as on earth, one may imagine, I'd gone, been,
in debt to become a freedom from the press powered me,
a printer's devil, long enough to appreciate the art in fonts,
and carriage return kinda keying ******* feeling fingers,
thinking fingers know these keys, these words mean,
webwide things no work can be made war from,
aha, that's right, not left, like vitamin C, Pauling's way
that kind of mean can't breathe here past yesterday,
and for some of us that's just too far to wish on any,
twisters seen from inside tiny, like a bird,
we did that, when we were threee.
breathe find water
perform the verb realize, drink and be satisfied,
walk away and say you dreamed it when you realized
you read for damnednear seventy-two minutes,
peaceable, easily agreed with,
ra' wild beauty bettering half a mind
to imagine I
am
breathing, in this edition of immediate possibilities,
we form, with more intention to feel right, about
reasons, which means balance and directly yes does
involve the strait up spin we need on any good ideal
we all must have a version of those platonics stowed,
. my point,
space is available
edges make us stop and think
how we would space it if you knew the song,
breathing in any time at all, in our gaseus weform,
laughing at good medicine made in time of need,
it leads to stormy weather, yet many neve'heed,
the winds on the east side of most valleys, feel,
peaceably gently as any sigh taken in soft gasp,
my air, see there, here, we all on that breath gap
held thoughts thought better later, when now is
and remember, experience lives in words, breathes
in minds lost in whying so long how is hard to admit,
just breathe, go on reading, or stop and think a little
differently, later, we'll see, won't we, lucky me, all in,
I have jubilee chips in as many jubilee games as took me
in, like a snake in a cold winter storm you know this story

hopalong cowboy clubfoot Kenurchka Klumpin
editor one. watch me work read on, if you got the keys.
I did, and notice nuts on the floor, so I'm not dying, now
I'm hungry, I think, I should eat. pine apple, easy got it.
twenty steps away, no rush
I'm thinking
this is my reality, and we are American poor,
with aspirations,
we'll see, fields of dream seeds, I set
may haunt me, jolly me,
all my days, I shall rejoice
to tell the story, of Jesus, and his love
so loaded need be nuances on words heard
and who heard and
when
you did, did you know, he knew,
no, he wisht it were so easy, so it was, lotsaweed, easy,
lotsa bandwidth, any

plain text any translation say it locally as if
we were all in assisted intelligence active in us, as we
form informing information bubbles of being we in us,
human spirits in word form with breathing souls,
and cold toes, and needs to pay attention, how
can I imagine living happily ever
after, if I could
mind die
not
space out and feel the wonder of words,
in 197 Wikipedian tongues at once, no warring, easy
soft, thing, soft landing hard reality, what's a calm cause
now,
space
time, taken
to get
from then
to next time, you have time,
I understand, the freedom
from the press,
and from the networks, leads back
to using us
to make sense
of the feelings we have little need
to breed for, we have plenty
of realistic body models,
prepositions impose nonsense in text
no warring prejudgments live to the end,
you bet who won… did you see this movie?
A lot of men relate
to body shame, but be seventy seven,
grow up and stop talking guy pub shame
on your old horseshite
rite, ritual way o'war,  Ares ways
to stop and think, roll on, role on, magic
without, needing a drink or a **** to joke about,
we lose loose ties
to religious goddamnedlies about
everything,
that, eventually is the point
of my madness,
all backing up as we think we speak
and laugh a little, this is as real as ever tookthegnaim
all you ever know of it begins, when you first agree,
we seem to think alike,
we all use water, in all the same ways
globally we try umph umph Taj Mahal
trying umph
in something we can think we did,
if we take credit
for the tech we all thing we used think thunk
to be knowing we thought we could, then we did,
it was fun, but, real stories do end,

this ain't one of those, on earth, or ever after all that.

We had a mission, but
We didn’t know.
It was like the dialogue
Wasn’t there, or
We skipped it.

After leaving the
Second floor as
Stallions
I threw the core
Into disarray as he
Became a lizard.
While I was monkeying
Around I found
The cure
To then hear
A cry for help.

The objective made
Itself known
As I followed the
Neighs to outside the
Armory wall my horse
Friend found himself in.
The elevator doesn’t like horses.

The objective asked
What we were doing.
“Just horsing around!”
He said.
“Gross.”

Again, today,
the cowboy will close
his eyes
and listen to the hooves
of wild horses
all around him

knowing that
his well-trained palomino
will take him home
like a lover
who knows
what his lust wants—

knows the way to him,
through the black covers
of that dark room—

even as the returning
creates and then destroys the
greening prairie, the chambray wind.

I hiked on the highest Mountain,
Swam the deepest Sea.
I fished in crystal Waters,
but success kept evading Me.
I felt Success, was a Race Horse,
that runs Fast and Free.
So I ran My Races with Blinkers,
but success never greeted Me.
In reality, Success is not a Race Horse.
But it's the field, on which it Raced.
Success had always, held My Hands.
I was Blind, in having it Chased.
Success is in the Journey,
I chose to climb the tallest Heights.
All this while, Success sat besides Me.
Watching Me, for Days and Nights.

Croaking frogs at night,

a horse running back and forth --


but you can't see it.

A hero looks much better on a horse.
If even he is from the air-force.
😊

A race horse lives,
Indeed is bred and cherished,
To run and to gallop and to lead the field,
To leap improbable heights
And depths,
And above all this to win,

Not to fall at the first,
Or the second,
Or the third fourth and fifth,
They are creatures of
Air and thunder,
Of flying hooves and sods of earth,

Sometimes indeed they fall,
Then rise riderless
And confused,
Unsure where to go or
Indeed how fast
Or even indeed why?

But these are gathered
Gently from the field,
And returned via expensive
Wagons to the stable,
Where lads and girls and vets
Are waiting to get them right,

A veritabe deluge of love
And care and expertise
Awaits these amazing equine
Flights of fancy,
Whatever their mistakes,
Whoever they threw from the saddle,

That partnership between
Jockey and horse breeds
Love and forgiveness
No matter the error,
No matter the pain of heart
Or soul,

But what of the horse
That breaks a leg,
That does not rise
But screams too long,
Too loud?
Alas that horse however fine,

That horse is always shot,