"stallion" poems
Lord, Lord,
Why did You make me Black?
Why did You make me someone
The world wants to hold back?
Black is the color of ***** clothes;
The color of grimy hands and feet.
Black is the color of darkness;
The color of tire-beaten streets.
Why did you give me thick lips,
A broad nose and ***** hair?
Why did You make me someone
Who receives the hatred stare?
Black is the color of a bruised eye
When somebody gets hurt.
Black is the color of darkness.
Black is the color of dirt.
How come my bone structure's so thick;
my hips and cheeks are high?
How come my eyes are brown
and not the color of the daylight sky?
Why do people think I'm useless?
How come I feel so used?
Why do some people see my skin and think I should be abused?
Lord, I just don't understand;
What is it about my skin?
Why do some people want to hate me
And not know the person within?
Black is what people are "listed",
When others want to keep them away.
Black is the color of shadows cast.
Black is the end of the day.
Lord, You know, my own people mistreat me;
And I know this just isn't right.
They don't like my hair or the way I look
They say I'm too dark or too light.
Lord, Don't You think it's time
For You to make a change?
Why don't You re-do creation
And make everyone the same?
(God answered
Why did I make you black?
Why did I make you black?
Get off your knees and look around.
Tell Me, what do you see?
I didn't make you in the image of darkness.
I made you in the Likeness of ME!
I made you the color of coal
From which beautiful diamonds are formed.
I made you the color of oil,
The black-gold that keeps people warm.
I made you from the rich, dark earth
That can grow the food you need.
Your color's the same as the panther's
Known for (HER) beauty and speed.
Your color's the same as the Black stallion,
A majestic animal is he.
I didn't make you in the Image of darkness
I made you in the Likeness of Me!
All the colors of a Heavenly Rainbow
Can be found throughout every nation;
And when all those colors were blended well,
YOU BECAME MY GREATEST CREATION.
Your hair is the texture of lamb's wool
Such a humble, little creature is he.
I am the Shepherd who watches them.
I am the One who will watch over thee.
You are the color of midnight-sky,
I put the stars' glitter in your eyes.
There's a smile hidden behind your pain
That's the reason your cheeks are high.
You are the color of dark clouds formed
when I send My strongest weather.
I made your lips full so when you kiss
the one you love they will remember.
Your stature is strong; your bone structure, thick
to withstand the burdens of time.
The reflection you see in the mirror...
The Image looking back at you is MINE!
-by RuNett Nia Ebo
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 9:42 AM UTC
the rose
is dying the
lips of an old man ******
the petals
hush
mysteriously invisible mourners move
with prose faces and sobbing,garments
The symbol of the rose
motionless
with grieving feet and
wings
mounts
against the margins of steep song
a stallion swetneess ,the
lips of an old man ******
the petals.
74.5k
Ah.. shes here...I shuffle around the stalls... watching..out of the corners of my eyes.... she knows ....Intimacy...a hand on flank..careful..
.you'll break me....with your gentle hands..
..My hard mouth....your soft lips..
..unruly, unruled....old horse...a kiss.
.. Confused, ...stallion in name only.
... You whisper... My ears *****
... forward..the hunt! ....your scent on..
..My bridle...I smell u still...
.. Calm...Comfort...Welcome...
.Gentled, not too gently....a strong hand.
. It grows trust …..truth...a Stallion! Once more.
Panting...pawing...'Be easy'..nervous eyes roll.
.a hand on the neck...a caress..'Gently '...you whisper,
.... hot breath against ear
… I snuffle and toss my head
…. still a bit frightened…..her power!
..Will you ride.? ! ..firm thighs and buttocks..
..Toes point... Heels dig...all Give and Take….
. Instruction to...from...the muscled beast.
..straddled. Awkward… too long without….
..A Rider … the matching... Gait with hip...
Walk-on.. Trot, pounding...Heels clip.
..faster, just a bit..Then smoothly they fit her to him.
...a canter.....this long stretch....rocking like one creature
….each a part of the other...breathing evenly…
...caught ….. Breath comes quick...bodies warm.
. Exertion...strength..trust.. Leaning forward..
knees grip..pulling...toes curl..in..
..hot breath..whisper in an ear… Now!
...hands grip mane... As they clench
… bit between the teeth...She..
...gives him his head... Finding his rhythm
…. home in sight...a last burst……
Rider/Stallion sweat soaked … blood pounding..There... againthe scent of her...Sweet Hay rising.
..she whispers… yes oh yes… I knew…
you had it in you.. In me...oh gods….YES! ! .
. No! not the pasture yet for you.. She chuckles..
.bodies tangled in sheets ….. Her mane of dark hair..
Scent of her fills him …
glad to be..Alive? Yes..head…. Heat…
heart...bursting…Not now… But soon.
. A gift.. This youth.. Who see's value in an old war horse.
..ridden.. but no more to war and blood..
.gentled, both he and she… sleep…bridled passion.
..her...a scent of sweet hay…
.him...an old spice..and gunpowder? ..mmm.
by Alexander K Hamilton
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 12:01 AM UTC
Buffalo Bill ’s
defunct
who used to
ride a watersmooth-silver
stallion
and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat
Jesus
he was a handsome man
and what i want to know is
how do you like your blueeyed boy
Mister Death
11.4k
I got a ruby secret
I keep it in my pocket
Only Zulu knows about it
So I put him in a prison
He thinks he's getting out soon
But he doesn't have a clue
He's just a little rodent
But he thinks he's a Raven!
He's in love with a prophet
So now he's on a conquest
But I planned his execution
He doesn't know know about it
He's always getting roasted
Thinks he's a stallion
He's really just a rodent
But he knows my little secret
I tried to sew his mouth shut
But he had an objection!
Thinks he's the president
Shh.. "He's really just a rodent"
I gave him a promotion...
So now he is my magician
He just keeps on escaping
He's drunk again, talking ****
Hey Zulu! Where are you running to?
Everybody is looking for you!
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 8:34 PM UTC
Visiting a friend on his Quarter
Horse farm, the day sunny and warm.
We walked out to his brood mare
pasture, the ladies were running,
awaiting and sunning, anticipation
in the air and their nervous behavior.
Noble his name, consistency his game,
a reliable aging stallion, sire to many
fine sons and daughters, years of proven
pairings, came halter led and prancing.
He had their scent and his spirit awakened,
the three ladies believed to be in season began
to snigger and whinny, their excitement growing
as the stallion entered their grassy domain,
the dance was about to commence.
The handler led the big fella' forward,
both sides began their quizzical inspections.
one young filly more aggressively willing
than the others. Noble excitedly returned
her heightened interest.
Within a few minutes Noble began to rear up,
he knew his job, his august appendage extended,
trying several times to mount his mate intended,
adrenaline pumping his back legs began to shake,
on his fourth failed attempt the eager proven
suitor fell to the ground, rolled over, paused for
a moment and struggled to stand on unsteady legs.
Appearing even somewhat embarrassed.
The mare moved aside, kicked her hind legs in
the stallion's direction, whinnied loudly and
ran away. Rejected the old stallion stood looking
perplexed, failure was something unknown to him.
His spirit was willing but his aging body was weak.
The old stud slowly returned to the barn, his head
hung low, no longer prancing.
For every time and being there is a season, aging
is part of the cycle, like this stallion, we all reach
this moment of understanding. Sometimes gracefully,
most times with stunned disbelief.
From Noble to nothing in one afternoon.
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
I say to my woman, "Jeffers was
a great poet. think of a title
like Be Angry At The Sun. don't you
realize how great that is?
"you like that negative stuff." she
says
"positively," I agree, finishing my
drink and pouring another.
"in one of Jeffers' poems, not the sun poem,
this woman ***** a stallion because her
husband is such a gross spirit. and it's
believable. then the husband goes out
to **** the stallion and the stallion
kills him."
"I never heard of Jeffers," she
says.
"you never heard of Big Sur? Jeffers
made Big Sur famous just like D. H. Lawrence
made Taos famous. when a
great writer writes about where he
lives the mob comes in and takes
over."
"well you write about San Pedro," she
says.
"yeah," I say, "and have you read the
papers lately? they are going to construct
a marina here, one of the largest in the
world, millions and billions of dollars,
there is going to be a huge shopping
center, yachts and condominiums every-
where!"
"and to think," my woman says smiling, "that you've only
lived here for three years!"
"I still think," I say,
changing the subject,
"you ought to read Jeffers."
8k
Wild stallion live free
Galloping unbound
Always you flee
Never chained to your ground
Wild stallion how swiftly you fly
Over distances and plains
How courageous you try
Hide your aches and pains
Wild stallion your hooves beat the earth
With fierce determination
Let loose and be rid of your girth
Be free from trepidation
Wild stallion covet your solitude
Embrace the run in silence
Your formidable strides of fortitude
Bound forth with repentance
Wild stallion I see you there
Mane billowing as you thundered across
Grounds fly beneath you without a care
Running without remorse, gliding without loss
Wild stallion I was once like you
Soaring to the ends on unrestrained wings
A life that is now but an echo; a faint pathetic hue
A life that is now filled with broken things
Wild stallion keep on running free
Keep galloping and know no bounds
You're free, no need to flee
Outrun the chains, leave them as faint indiscernible sounds
Wild stallion how I envy you
As you canter, your coat gleam in the light
See me as you always do
Just a reflection who has ceased to fight
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC
I must Confess,
I am Baring witness to the beautiful sight of your nakedness even though you are physically and completely dressed.
Its such a sight to behold as you bare the essence of your soul, revealing it uncovered and undressed
Now I have you right where i want you with Your heart under my arrest.
So come lay your Kingly crown upon my chest As I caress you with my love and tenderness.
Listen to the rhythm of heart beating like an African drum, *** pum pum pum pum.
Feel my Energy impermate your atmen flowing thru all of you, from me.
Here in this place is where we meet, its that place of serenity.
While you Delight in my words as they gently kiss your ears.
Let me Take my pencil and an Erase all your fears leaving behind not a single trace. Only a smile upon your face.
Allow me to take these soft delicate hands to massage the beatings your masculine stallion body you had endured today
each touch Is like fire to ice melting all of your stress away.
Now we can sit here in silence mediating thru out the day. King to Queen Nasmaste
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 7:31 PM UTC
Him:
Do you want to share my ice cream
play footsie?
Inch by inch
I’ll climb up
You eat
Her:
I want to go horseback riding
By candlelight
With a bottle of wine
squeezing with my thighs
I want a stallion
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 12:48 PM UTC
A lovely Latina caught Don Sterling’s eye
And, for sure, there’s no fool like an old one.
It helped he has Billions, You know I don’t lie-
because you must give sums to get some.
His wife got upset, (you know how they get)
As she saw their cash flow out the door.
“Two cars and a condo! I’ll make him regret
the day he encountered that *****
The wife sued the mistress for her “ill gotten” gains,
half of it hers by the law.
Then they caught Don, on tape,
Spewing sound bites of hate-
Now he can’t run his team anymore.
A little blue pill can do old men ill-
It deceives them to think they’re a Stallion.
The next time you reach for an eighteen year old, Don,
I suggest that you pour a MacCallan.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
I CAN BE WRONG AND STILL BE RIGHT
IS THE REAL PARADOX TO HEIGHT
A LONELY PILGRIM LOSES SIGHT
OF ANSWERS THAT COULD BRING HIM MIGHT
AND YET TO SEED THE ANSWERS CALL
THE STALLION IS IN ITS STALL
HE’S NOT PREPARED TO TAKE THE FALL
FOR WHAT COULD BE IS CLEAR TO ALL
THE ENDLESS PARADOX IN SIGHT
THE TRUTH OF RIGHTEOUSNESS TO KNIGHT
I FEAR TO SEAL MUST FLY HIS KITE
AND PRAY SURREAL COMES OUT TIGHT
ACROSS THE ANCIENT CASTLE WALLS
THE DEMURE TAINTED SHADOWS CRAWL
TO FORM THE MORNING’S CLEARING CALL
EFFUSIVE ALLUSIONS , IRRELEVANCE FALL
THE ECHOS FROM THE GROTTO SWELL
LIKE MEMORIES OF ANCIENT HELL
THAT COMMAND THE OCEANS TO RESEND
THE LOWLY FORCE WITH WHICH THEY’D BEND
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 4:07 AM UTC
Hey Harvey Wallbanger
I’d like you to tie me to the bedpost, baby
And press your fuzzy navel to my *slippery ******
Give me your white angel kiss and I’ll lie down like a brown cow
While between the sheets you play the Italian stallion.
Like a kamikaze pilot head for my pink squirrel
Then give me your ol’ Alabama slammer
And pack a *** punch* into that screwdriver of yours.
I want a *screaming ******
That’ll send me to blue heaven. Wu Wu!
So, don’t mention that ****** Mary*
With her devil’s kiss,
Or you’ll find I can give a snake bite that’s as deadly as a B-52.
Instead let’s ride into the tequila sunset in our golden Cadillac
For *** on the beach*
And on the sea breeze we'll hear an old love song sung by a ‘salty dog’ with a Gibson
And watch a tropical storm over Manhattan
We'll go to Peppermint Patti’s café
And order an Irish coffee and a large slice of cherry pie.
Happy, after dark let’s drive home for a *sloe comfortable ***** with satin pillows*
And fall into the sweet surrender of a summer dream.
Mar 6, 2010
Mar 6, 2010 at 7:58 AM UTC
I concede,
I yield,
I cave,
I give in.
My 2 weeks put themselves
in centuries ago.
I've fallen from my self-righteous high horse;
a stallion meant only for
those full of their own capability.
For so long
I've fought more than 'tooth and nail',
more than 'blood sweat and tears'.
Fought harder than 'life or death'.
I've fought to the diminishment
of my brazen,
furious soul.
Worn my own sharp
rapturous vigor for this life
down to a dull
dull syringe.
Even the most skilled,
determined ****** couldn't
tap a main line vien
with what now remains.
Dec 28, 2020
Dec 28, 2020 at 7:26 PM UTC
'O godmother, open your mind to me and tell me of your woe!'
'My dread spouse, he is to joust on the morrow's night; Death cannot accompany him, else I shall be left bereft!'
'O godmother, he is no longer a marauder; he shan't greet Death on the verdant hill where he shall joust,'
'My dread spouse, what will he suffer if he were to fail?'
'O godmother, ye of little faith! Your dread spouse shall joust with a fiery spirit,'
'My dread spouse, what would become of me if he survived, only gaiety!'
'O godmother, worry not, for he shall battle under a gibbous waning moon, a good omen surely!'
'My dread spouse, if he shall be pierced by an arrow whilst on his stallion, I shall weep to the moon!'
'O godmother, if his blood is to stain grass browned by heat, he will lay peacefully knowing his courage.'
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 7:25 PM UTC
There's something about the rumbling sound beneath our feet in the summers heat and the smell of exhaust covering our leather jackets and jeans.
I want to take my beauty and ride her from day until dawn.
I want to take her on adventures that we never seen before to make our ride as magical as it should seem.
When your with me, i feel free, because you're my stallion, my black beauty Queen.
The virago roars and runs beneath my *** as my hair dances in the wind to the sound of my bikes heart beat matching to mine when adrenaline's meet.
She's loud, dark and fun.
So exciting, all the places that me and you can see.
Let's ride into the sunset, where our heaven meets and it's just me, you and my black beauty.
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 5:12 PM UTC
The small blue Arab stallion dances on the hill
like a glancing breaker, like a storm rearing in the sky,
In his prick-ears,the wind, that wanderer and spy,
sings of the dunes of Arabia, lion-coloured still.
The small blue stallion poses like a centaur-god,
netting the sun in his sea-spray mane, forgetting
his stalwart mares for a phantom galloping unshod;
changing for a heat-mirage his tall and velvet hill.
3.6k
You mumblers and raspers
Of resp'rat'ry rattle:
Open your throats!
Forsake ye! the gaspers,
You quoters of cattle
And prattle of goats!
Or lay ye with horses
Whose tongue ne'er divorces
Those ivory choppers,
Those sibilant stoppers;
You lispers: beware,
Whether stallion or mare,
While you nibble your oats!
Stop your speech-stumbling!
Go suckle an udder
You dizzy, damp calfs!
Restrain your talk-tumbling,
And swallow your stutter
Nor utter foul laughs!
You outspoken nags
Mimic bolt-broken stags
As you bleed allegations
Down paths of my patience
And clatter your antlers;
What heavy-hoofed ranters
For no one's behalf!
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC
strong the wind
(spirit-------breath)
strong your heart
---------
f--k the death mongerers
NOW!
-----------
ride the white horse
the ONE STALLION
ride into forever
WE ARE HERE
---------
stop being silly stupid sissies......
PLEASE!!!!!
---------
the day is ours
slavery?
you like it???????
WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU??
-----
put your clothes back on
or
take them off!!!!
WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING
DON'T!!!!!!!
------
strong
strong as the wind
the spirit
your pure breath
ride the white stallion
the white stallion
Dec 15, 2010
Dec 15, 2010 at 1:02 PM UTC
GRANDMOTHER
A singing, child, a singing
about the great stallion,
who would not drink the water,
the water in its blackness,
in among the branches.
Where it finds the bridge,
it hands there, singing.
Who knows what water is,
my child,
its tail waving,
through the dark green chambers?
MOTHER
Sleep, my flower,
the stallion is not drinking.
GRANDMOTHER
Sleep, my rose,
the stallion is crying.
His legs are wounded,
his mane is frozen,
in his eyes,
there is a blade of silver.
They went to the river.
Ay, how they went!
Blood running,
quicker than water.
MOTHER
Sleep, my flower,
the stallion is not drinking.
GRANDMOTHER
Sleep, my rose,
the stallion is crying.
MOTHER
It would not touch
the wet shore,
his burning muzzle,
silvered with flies.
He would only neigh,
to the harsh mountains,
a weight of river, dead,
against his throat.
Ay, proud stallion
that would not drink the water!
Ay, pain of snowfall,
stallion of daybreak!
GRANDMOTHER
Do not come here! Wait,
close the window,
with branches of dream,
and dreams of branches.
MOTHER
My child is sleeping.
GRANDMOTHER
My child is silent.
MOTHER
Stallion, my child
has a soft pillow.
GRANDMOTHER
Steel for his cradle.
MOTHER
Lace for his covers.
GRANDMOTHER
A singing, child, a singing.
MOTHER
Ay, pround stallion
that would not drink the water!
GRANDMOTHER
Don't come here! Don't enter!
Go up to the mountain
through a sombre valley,
to where the wild mare is.
MOTHER gazing
My child is sleeping.
GRANDMOTHER
My child is resting.
MOTHER (softly)
Sleep, my flower,
the stallion is not drinking.
GRANDMOTHER (rising, and very softly)
Sleep, my rose,
the stallion is crying.
3.2k
The cuckold sat
Crying
As he
Peeked through the door
The Arab stallion
****** deep
Into his wife
She screamed for more!
Deeper inside her
Then he had ever been
She loved his c****
It was no sin
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
you branded me
angry red marks soiling soft skin
my body now a cage to the wild soul within
and like a stallion, i love you more when i'm broken
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 8:00 PM UTC
Rusted trailers file in,
carrying pop-up roller coasters
and tilt-a-whirls. A tall man, face splashed
with paint, trips in oversized shoes.
His drawn lips smile, but teeth do not show.
A ferris wheel spins in the distance, time
measured in each rotation, the carnival's only clock.
Perched on a saddle, a small tot
rides a stallion, tangling her curled fingers
in its mane, cotton candy stained palms
shaking the reins. The steed chained
to a central post, muzzled in silence,
frozen like his carousel brothers.
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
You stopped by to see me on your way out of town.
You said you were headed west because the locals were bringing you down.
As you sat across from me,
I looked into your eyes.
Then it hit, how much I'd miss my friend, as we said our good-byes.
I stood on the darkened sidewalk beneath a lamp that wasn't lit,
As you drove your car away from me,
My heart broke a little bit.
I would never tell a young man never to explore,
Because nobody could have held me back in my days of yesteryore.
A piece of me feels envy.
I'm no longer a young man.
If I were, then I would be with you,
Hand in loving hand.
Maybe once in a while think of me, When. like a stallion, you roam free.
When you kiss the pretty ponies,
Give a kiss for me.
As you blaze your fiery trail until you reach the ocean shore,
Remember that my heart is with you
And shall be evermore.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 3:15 PM UTC