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K Balachandran Jun 2018
black stallions gallop,
It’s huddle in sky’s race course;
in his box, sun hides!
Megan Parson Apr 2018
The bullet rumbled to a stop,
Its black - clad rider at the top.
Dark glasses, leather jacket, youthful spring,
Majestic with the helmet swing.

The world round him, seemed to slow,
A playful glow, his eyes did show.
Entranced by the lady across the street,
Falling for her, advances he on quick feet.

The gorgeous girl but glanced around,
The knight in shining armour, did abound.
Returned rejected to his steady stallion,
Defeated in, the great battalion.

Her high heels, clicked in beat,
As the faint rumbling, reduced the heat.
If the prince, should ever find,
A scrawled number, in his pocket hind.

Would not we all, love to know,
What did follow !!!
For my friend who admires the Bullet bikes, and dreams of owning one :)
Star BG Sep 2017
Inside brain like coral,
my thoughts are like bronco
ready to ride.

Words are steadied,
as I mount with intention
to move cross page.

Blank page like fence opens,
as the race begins
and moments fly by
releasing time.

Faster I type gaining speed,
as mind aligns with visions.
as steed drifts with heartbeat
to merge with breathFaster my steed  drifts
as heartbeats roll out
melodies to merge with breath.

Stopping for a drink
of suns rays
gives energy to words
as thoughts are quenched
and I jump further into poem.

Until poem is done, and I can then rest
my gelding of expressions.
Until Minds poetic door closes for a time
and my feet take root on solid ground.

StarBG © 2017
In first poem of the day, I become a rider and my words the stallion who waited  ready to be let out to jump upon page. It is indeed another day inside a writers mind of mine.
Richard Grahn May 2017
You swam through my dreams like a dolphin
Then stomped on my hopes like a stallion
You answered my prayers like an angel
But you turned out to be just a devil

---------------------+++--------------------

So why do I miss you?
Please tell me why
How hard can it be
To let bygones go by?

If you’re really the devil
That answered my prayers
And haunted my dreams
Then where are you now?

I should not allow
Your memory to linger
But my hopes are like dust
Just slipping through my fingers

I’d like to let go
And drift through the air
But I don’t have a prayer
When you’re always right there

The rain can stop falling
On this hallowed ground
Any day now
I’m bound to escape

But your binding reach
Inside my mind
Won’t let me go easy
The way that I’d like

There’s no turning back
Or turning around
So you’re welcome to temp me
Through the distance we’ve found
No animosity here ;)
Duke Thompson Dec 2015
The adderall admiral
The ****** stallion
You down by a fifth
I'm up on a gallon
SøułSurvivør May 2015
----

Sometimes they take over
The rhythms in your head
Nuances of rhyme schemes
The lines your muse has fed
You want to use a smaller word
Pontificate instead
It gallops through your consciousness
A wild horse - unlead!

The hooves go on like thunder
Upon the steed you ride
Tearing up the page
Pen in hand - astride
You are without a bridle
Legs grip the mustang's side
He has his own way
He is a beast with pride!

No - he has no stable
No - his blood flows wild!
Fed grass of the planes
He's restless as a child
A stallion - yes! A bucking bronc!
Unbroken - never mild!
Get into his rhetoric
He's always getting riled!

Write like you're a MUSTANG!
RIDE ON!!! You have no reins!
Get into his rhythm
The rhyme scheme is unstrained
Your footing is unsure
In uncertain terrains
Playing echo chamber music
Those cacophonous refrains

Bust that bronc!!! He's waiting -
Your own head unrestrained!!!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/19/2015
I can't get this rhythm
Out of my head!

---
I now realize that I am not a mule.
I do not have to carry people and their burdens on my back.
I do not have to be slowed down or held back by the weight of others.
I will no longer be controlled by others.
I am a stallion.
Free to roam wherever,
Moving fast and majestically,
I carry my own weight.
And when I am with a group of my kind,
We will not hold back or let anyone take a ride.
I am a stallion ,
and stallions do not carry people.
Sometimes to move on in life we have to let people and things go.  No matter how much we care about about them,  we cant let their problems be our problems.
Many legends there be back in days of old;
Legends of bold knights upon their noble steeds.
This be a tale starring a knight and his steed
As one and the same.

'Twas in the Renaissance city of Poitiers
The prodigy of a holy knight was born;
Sir Nathanëal of the Salomon bloodline,
Lineage of victors.

He bore the heart and voice of an archangel
And the loyalty of a priest to his God.
No other horse he rode but his first and last;
Dear "Divinitus."

Alas, his loyalty had cost him dearly
In the midst of the Battle of Moncontour.
Thus came the end of Nathanëal Salomon.
Or so it had seemed.

By the hands of benevolent sorcery,
Nathanëal and Divinitus lived again,
This time sharing a peculiar physique
Of both man and horse.

Thus, blessed with fur of white and a mane of gold,
Well-equipped with lightweight armour and claymore,
He walked the outskirts of France slaying evil
As both knight and steed.
Here is my very first sapphic which I wrote as part of my homework for Tees Achieve Creative Writing.

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© Jordan Dean "Mystery" Ezekude

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