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A Patriarch in Faraway land
Had sons who were at odds.
Both wanted father's favor
So this king would laud
They both raced for fortune,
So he wanted them to PLOD.
He wanted them HUMBLE
So he asked of God...

The Prophet he petitioned
Spake, "Give each a horse.
Of great heart and lineage,
Which can stay the course.

Equines brave and stalwart,
When they first begin,
But they must not finish!
The slowest horse will win!

And so the father did this.
He gave each a steed.
Each a Highborn thoroughbred
Dam Triple Crown seed!
He told his sons the riddle,
They were perplexed indeed!

But for his land and all his gold
They set out on their "race"
But soon it was quite obvious
The end would not take place!

They both stood in water
A river coursed its way
They were going to stop there.
No Brave Horse held sway!
Neither lad knew what to do!
Neither black nor dappled Grey
Would cross that cursed Finish Line!
So they began to pray...

The Prophet came up right away
And told them what to do.
As they both heard the simple answer
They knew it to be true!
They rode off as chased by fire!
A HELLBENT race ensued!!

WHAT HAPPENED??
They traded horses!
Man Jan 2021
none of you are strong
or independent
how many do you rely on for your food?
your gas? electric, and the roof overhead?
this is a fixed system
a racetrack
where all the horses are doped
all i can say is,
stop running
SøułSurvivør Dec 2020
....................Like flowing
           lava/Hot with sweat
Lithe muscle/Sturdy bone/The
horses course/The hillsides as if by
hell beset/magnificent as the sea/
                        As powerful as a tide
                      As if a fire runs in
                     Aching veins/God tests
                    Ancient bloodlines in them
                    And gives them reins/But
                     All in all their hearts ring
                      A leather bell on ours
                    A Vulcan strength we see/
                  And recognize fully in you
                 And me/splendid equine
        Curves as the tails arch/and
Manes stream/on arid dunes....

Arabian.

SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
12/6/2020
Thought I would try concrete poetry again. I had to put the periods in so the first line would be positioned correctly. I've missed concrete.... and I've missed YOU.
Ibekwe ifeanyi c Sep 2020
If wishes where horses
I'd be glad to ride
I'd take a chance and sail to the sky
If wishes where horses it'd be nice
I'd grow feathers wings and fly
I'd harness the sun and keep the rain
I'd be sure there'd be much to gain
If wishes were horses let's be plain
We'd wish to pulverize all our pains
Yet these and more did keep us sane
If wishes were horses as we dream
It won't be enough to quench our greed
If wishes were horses
I'd wish mind be let free
Free from thoughts of adversary
I'd wish the waters flew through me
To cleanse my soul and gladden it
If wishes were horse as it should be
I'd live in abundance of treasure and pleasures
I'd cross the borders in seek of adventures
If only wishes were horses no it's not
Or horses could grant wishes yet they can't
If wishes were horses or horses were wishes very funny
Maria Mitea Aug 2020
When the night falls,
and no one’striking with an eye,
My restless horses rove
with the wild Siberian winds,
Their whinnying voices call me,
Voices call me, and I scream!

Slowly, Slowly, my horses!
Do not fly into the wild winds,
Please! Slowly, don’t you see,
I didn’t have time to live!      

Understand me, my horses,
Let me sing! One more song!
Feel my deepest yearning,
for you and for the lost time.

For no time to laugh,
and for no time to cry,
For no time to love,
and no time to touch a
weeping heart.

Please! Listen, my horses,
Do not hurry! Voices call me,
Oh, how you can ride so fast?
Follow my solace in y’footsteps,
Ride on my waters, and
I’ll drink y'golden promise.

Take me on your winter sleigh,
Amble along, dance your shyness
in the wildest Siberian snow flurry,
and I’ll sing you my only song,
“I am not a prisoner.”

Let me sing! One more song!
and I’ll bring’y the apple from heaven,
and I’ll kiss you one last time,
when no one hits with an eye.

Carry me my dear horses,
Slowly, like this, Slowly, please!
When no one hunts in the sky,
and the hungry wind’s blindsight.

Please! My horses,
Slow down, Slow, Slow down,
I am loosing my powers,
and I didn’t have time to live! 

The show comes to the end,
and I can’t hear you galloping,
and I can’t see your cavalcade,
the show comes to the end,
and I lose your reins in the wind.

Please! My horses,
slow down, move slow, listen,
Please!
I didn’t have time to live!
Chris Saitta Aug 2020
The horse breathes in the city, the world of unrelenting pistons
And steam from the jingling harness, and the jangling windows
That reflect the bolting sparrows like fire arrows in the coming night,
Viennese darkness is like the smell of the chocolatier mixed with snow,
Sealed in a sachertorte with the alley-crack of the riding whip on coach,
Viennese sunshine is like the baker’s soul, rising on flashing coppers and tins.
Sachertorte is the famed dark chocolate Viennese cake.
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