"equestrian" poems
“Top of the Morning to ‘Yuh, Guv’nuh.”
Oh, to be father of a
Cockney flower girl,
To be Eliza Doolittle’s
Dear old Dad,
Alfred P. of that surname.
Oh, to be a cockney dustman,
On this fine day,
Another fine day in
Northern New Mexico, as I
Sell my daughter to
‘Enery Iggins, or
Some equivalent
Princeton poofter.
I am Rhett Butler,
Daring blockade-runner,
Persona –non-grata
For any decent
Family—including my own,
Charleston Carolina.
In time, I crave
Social acceptance for
Bonnie Blue—my ill fated
Would-be equestrian offspring;
I surrender my daughter to the
Upper Class.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 1:40 PM UTC
Grievous grace, has due yesterday’s blue
Autonomous avarice enigma entity’s hue
Identity crisis guidon guile’s due
Mystic symbiosis’ existential true
Apostrophe sabbat transcendental kitsch
Consortium liaison’s libido’s glitch
Translucent opulence’s lambent’s a *****
Metaphysical mystique is black as pitch
Terrestrial equestrian tellurian's terrene
Adamant tenacity’s obtusely obscene
Obstinate loquacity spiritually serene
Maniacally meticulous dexterity’s preen
Lucid cogent fecund’s maieutic
Incarnate’s manumissional eidetic
Spatiotemporal telemetry’s fanatic
Logistical tactician’s primal ecstatic
Chicanery dynamism’s opulent fealty
Intrinsic innate retrospective cruelty
Indigenous endemic inherent frailty
Corrupt costume counselor subtlety
Gambit alluvium aloof impunity
Immunity is epicurian absurdity
Who are we to us credulity
Nimbus nimiety nihilism’s congruity
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
Must be from France , western European .
Dedicated equestrian , painter and poet .
Aristocratic by blood , proper family .
Well educated in all the facets of life .
Regal as the diamond jewels of the tiara worn like a crown .
Long black hair waterfalls over her shoulders .
Rose red lips that beg to be kissed .
Perfectly structured cheeks
And the round innocent eyes
Of an angel seeking wings to fly .
And if the eyes are the windows to the soul let my ship sail on in
Seeking safe harbor within
Sneha's eyes .
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 7:24 PM UTC
The Equestrian
When we met
We could and would
Have a sunday brunch
We ate **** word appetizers
Before eruptions of love for our main course
We conversed about ecstasy
And drank tall glasses of progeny
And picked morsels of fantasy
Passed on the dessert
Enough sweetness in wetness
Salivate like rabid wolves
Over the thought that
your body brings me deepness
I guess I'm in depth
She straddles my imagination
I saddled her provocation
Learn the speed at which her mind gallops
While
We share our addictions
Compare our afflictions
Only to conclude we're of the same breed
An option I could of
If only I would of
But knowing I should of
Cause the timing is never right
Not all heros ride into the sunset
Not all villains would meet there demise
Xin
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 8:34 PM UTC
Exotic trollwood harlotry and mule kit blues
Tyrannical tyrannosaur traction padness
Cohort cavorts clastic and witch’s *** hues
Ontological ontogeny somatalogy fadness
Inductive endemic veracities and talus weather clues
Epistemological equilibrium’s homogeny badness
Timeless rhetorical ruminations and ephemeral exigency dues
Transcendent ascensional equivocal madness
Tactile acuity prescience capacity intrepid intrigues
Mystical symbiosis dharma sensorium sentiment proselyte
Torturous tractive prosthesis umbrage ultraism colleagues
Newfangled nocturnal nonchalant nether nestle neophyte
Top notch topography tortoise trauma fatigues
Faustian faux pas foist felicitous fealties socialite
Agnate nous ontological ontogeny euphenics in league
Mentalities evocative introjecting sycophant eulogizing apposite
Mystical terrestrial equestrian tellurian tableau
Panoramic imagery empiricist
Evocative exserted apomixies’ ethereal should show
Ontological somatalogy lyricist
Reflective refraction remissions opulence could know
Theosophy theophany epiphany equilibrist
Magniloquent inductive extrapolation quantum back ***
Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 5:20 PM UTC
Dazzled by
the glamour of robber barons,
a **** fetishist
shills for feudal revival
ambidextrously flogging
bleach-white equestrian bones
eventually dying
a looter's death.
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 6:48 PM UTC
I frequently read my old poems and
feel my glass heart splinter with impatience
and demand why my muse escapes
my passions, and my talent must
sleep cold and lonely within the shadowy crescent
where an oil-fire’s tongues dare not lick.
Then, when face with banal, bittersweet
mimicry week after week, therein
braces a bothered stirring of flavorful
jumbles as aimless as houseflies bouncing
against the window blinds.
And, once again, my poems,
with their phoenix lifestyles, breathe brave
gulps with scarlet-robin-breasts puffed
with gung-ho vigor.
Where the poet’s rhythm takes on equestrian
expression along the staggered verses,
bequeathing shine to syllabic shine
and stealing pop from pursed, pronouncing lips.
Each doting word may kiss and nuzzle the
splinters that recognize a cut so rare
that this world’s physical balance would overturn
with no presence of such wondrous oddity.
Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 5:10 AM UTC
Psychic spies from Manhattan
Try to steal your mind's elation
Little fillies from Appleloosa
Dream of silver screen quotations
And if you want these kind of dreams
It's Aliicornication
It's the edge of the world
And all of Equestrian civilization
The sun may rise in the East
At least it settles in a final location
It's understood that Canterlot
sells Aliicornication.
Pay your Princess very well
To break the spell of aging
Celestia skin is this your wings
Or is that war your waging
Chorus:
First born unicorn
Hard core than sorin'
Dream of Aliicornication
Dream of Aliicornication
Marry me Mare be my Alicorn to the world
Be my very own constellation
A teenage liaison with a baby dragon
Getting high on information
And buy me a star on the boulevard
It's Aliicornication
Alicorns may be the final frontier
But it's made in a Canterlot basement
Twilight can you hear the spheres
Singing songs off history to history
And Starswirl's not far away
It's Aliicornication
Born and raised by those who praise
Control of suns rotation everypony's been there before
And I don't mean on vacation
Chorus
Magic leads to a very rough road
But it also breeds creation
And an alicorn from a unicorn
It's just another good coronation
And tidal waves couldn't save the world
From Aliicornication
Pay your princess very well
To break the spell of aging
Smarter than the rest
There is no test
But wings is what you're craving.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 4:34 AM UTC
She said she was an equestrian and I said I was a Capricorn and she walked away I guess we didn't have compatible horoscopes
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 8:44 PM UTC
they say that bronze was
the prime component in
the *Equestrian Statue of
Marcus Aurelius*, or the
stone of the Ajanta Caves
in India, but will my skin
keep me alive? I once said
something interesting in
a classroom in regards to
immortality, when a girl
picked out the flaws in
For the Love of God a
piece by Damien Hirst.
It seems to say that we must realize our mortality
but do skeletons not last
the ravage of time? Exactly
what part of us is mortal
aside from our skin, first?
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 10:24 PM UTC
Philanthropic gesticulations are an evident dismissal of Anglican legends.
In this Northern hemisphere, we are unified on the verge of an axial tilt, whilst equestrian ladies in jodhpurs of champagne delicacy seek profanities beyond the confines of social respectability.
Let us sit under the wise branches of the oak tree in nocturnal dimensions of Newtonian questionability, and broaden our horizons as we contemplate our ancestors.
Listen to the bubbling brook as she whispers timeless stories of enchantment.
Oh, bearer of liberated pain, I resent fox-hunting.
The rooster always crows at dawn.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
This chair's a
rocking horse and
I'm an equestrian
dreamer
days in Spain
when you were
there
I know that you
were there and
I was too
I'm riding on a
rocking horse
a stomach wrenching
rocking horse
a back and forth
and up and down
and sideways
world
a rocking horse
and I can't
come down.
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 7:36 PM UTC
Great dreams
Crystal whispers
I never believed in
I played a thousand fantasies
my pet dragons' names weren't
original
neither were my aliases
Coriander
Evelyn
Beauty
Rose
but Peridot
came the closest to breathing
her and brother wizard
Jasper
died from an inability to care
I couldn't write emotion
yet
still the art eludes me
and I struggle creating the minds of
characters
so boring to interact with my own fabricated
males and females
maybe horses would be easier
to create
anthropomorphic equestrian creatures
proper ****** distortions
and voice affectations
unneeded
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 8:02 PM UTC
Opened a book today
My eyes fell upon a page of poems
How odd, it feels so familiar to me
Yet, how can this be?
Picked up an organic instrument
And played a song I do not know
Whence cometh the inspiration?
Only from the whispers of ..... a previous life....
These things I see doing, I claim not expeditious
For it's only if and when....the muses decide to see fit
A mere vessel to transport what already is there!
Every possible thought-combo has its keen template.
Never did an equestrian thing before
Yet I find me mounting superb horse and ride
Flowing action, wide awake and so thrilling
No expletive required to tell of happy lingering.
Going upon the mountain to pray, this day
Not to find you
But that you ....find me
Don't you just give up so fast!
Can't deny strong polarising effect in here
This life affords us another chance: second time around.
S T, 4 May 2013
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 6:59 AM UTC
I was making love to the girl in a purple tee
She was wicked and naked on top of me
She was ******* like an equestrian
On top of a **** lesbian
As I opened my eyes an empty sheet was all that I see
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
Smack, jab! Left, right,
watch out I bite,
process words
too fast,
they move like
flashes through my thoughts,
I don't make them, they don't make me
Don't force them, they don't force me-
I do this for fun;
bash my head into a turtle's skeleton,
pelicans, stay out of the way.
Wish wash kind of washer head,
wolf wild but walker wed,
stupid is as stupid ever gets when
stupid is what stupid said he'd turn
stupid,
what he'd spurn, stupid
pedestrian...
I, always the equestrian
and never stupid (and never wasteful
but always mindful, mind you!), like
to think that I do this for fun.
Believe me,
I do this for fun.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 2:12 AM UTC
Lost on a sailboat going nowhere but towards a dream
I glide deeper in blue waters looking for the endless seam
night has fallen softly all around me, I can only gleam
here in my sailboat, standing spar to spar a pulpit realm
Finding only calm I mesh as one with the dolphins in the sea
the wind blows softly in my ear whistling past the bow now free
the calendar of time fades as dull as grandad's silver cutlery
I breathe deep, deeper then mermaids, there are three ***
Entering forbidden lands, my fantasy is real and real is not , I could
for I'm warrior of old navigating, counting knots on a piece of wood
ancient trees wave from a distance standing where they always stood
while my unflappable sails align to the sky, 15 knots no more all good
Finding solace in a cup of Joe sitting on a berth at the edge of night
the stars are pantomiming with the flicker of their equestrian light
she sits beside me reading my tea cup in her flimsy gown of white
the ghost of my Fedora, together we are lost it a nautical twilight.
May 25, 2021
May 25, 2021
May 25, 2021 at 7:01 PM UTC
The figment of a naïve imagination is likened to a complex system of underground roots.
How elaborate are your projected destinations?
The pathway is not dissimilar to that of one where angels fear to tread.
I have borne witness to flourishing palm trees as they float on their desert islands across planetary divides where the blue whale ***** her powerful wings across the atmospheres of dreamy lunar memories, galloping towards the origins of infinity.
I am grateful that the ancient spectre resides within the deep seated split of our sophisticated inertia.
Can I now pollinate your petals, where witches cast their spells beyond the castle walls and where the mare wanders in the depths of the forest?
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC
*I was once a naive
Today I'm a warrior
I walked in the battlefield unarmed
Today I crawl with broken barrier
I was once a mooncalf
I lend my sword to another
Said the scabbard was lost
I, the new scabbard was to be
I was once a dancer
Today I'm the theatre
I was the rhythmic flute
Today I cry on my own melody
I was once the sun
Today I'm not even the moon
To all planets I sent light
Today I'm them, black skies
I was once the caducity
Today I'm the equestrian
Before I fell off the saddle
Now I pull back the reins*
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 6:30 AM UTC
Pete and me had this mate called Charlie
He lived in Manchester
And he was a rogue
Whenever we called on him
He'd rub his hands and say
"What can I sell ya, boys?"
Once when we went
He opened a large drawer and
It was full of gold and silver rings
All types and all sizes
He opened the drawer beneath that
And it was full of ****** and vibrators
I kid you not
Another time we went he said to Pete
" I've got some leather jeans'll fit you,"
So Pete tried them on and they fit
Sort of
This was in the days before stretch fabrics
And what Charlie didn't mention was
These were womens' jeans
So Pete looked at me and said
"What d'you think?"
I tried not to laugh but failed
"They look like leather jodhpurs!
You look like a Hell's Angel equestrian!"
So that was Charlie
The last I heard
Bad people were looking for him
Apart from the police
I often wonder what happened to him
By Phil Roberts
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 7:00 AM UTC
Grievous grace, has due yesterday’s blue
Autonomous avarice enigma entity’s hue
Identity crisis guidon guile’s due
Mystic symbiosis’ existential true
Apostrophe sabbat transcendental kitsch
Consortium liaison’s libido’s glitch
Translucent opulence’s lambent’s a *****
Metaphysical mystique is black as pitch
Terrestrial equestrian tellurian's terrene
Adamant tenacity’s obtusely obscene
Obstinate loquacity spiritually serene
Maniacally meticulous dexterity’s preen
Lucid cogent fecund’s maieutic
Incarnate’s manumissional eidetic
Spatiotemporal telemetry’s fanatic
Logistical tactician’s primal ecstatic
Chicanery dynamism’s opulent fealty
Intrinsic innate retrospective cruelty
Indigenous endemic inherent frailty
Corrupt costume counselor subtlety
Gambit alluvium aloof impunity
Immunity is Epicurean absurdity
Who are we to us complicity
Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s congruity
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 1:32 AM UTC
languid shrouds of
language apocryphal
indistinct and purely equestrian
but it seams
to glow of moisture gleaming like an organic high
with undulance continuity pleasing in a way
a strand of care-free rhapsodic parody
by chance bluish purple
ostentatious echoing
evocative even if not meant
like a dream state
a plethora suffuse
a glowing abundance
of too much
new.
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 5:56 AM UTC
Who made your shirt?
Was it worth all three cents of that impoverished woman's sweat?
Keep collecting those precious friends like postage stamps.
You vapid, empty shell!
I'll be over here on my equestrian statue.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 12:45 AM UTC