EquineAnn Poetry Stop

[Horsa]

This was my improved version of the poem.

Glasgow

The fog,
the smog.
The rain pouring down
like a river mucky brown.
Scotland's city number 2
smells of industrial chimney smoke through & through.
Clydesdale horses take people everywhere.
People wear Paisley print & tartan pretty & fair.
Chocolate teacakes are on the bill of fayre.
The sound of bagpipes fill the air.
Glasgow is the swan.
It is the ship sailing on the River Clyde like in days long-gone.
Glasgow is Scotland's industrial beating heart.
It is the hammer tearing its enemies apart.
People give you a welcoming handshake.
They are industrious & tough. They will not bend or break.
They welcome everyone there.
Glasgow is square.
It is a thistle in your side.
Glasgow sings the song of the Clyde.
People drink Irn bru,
refreshing for me & you.
People read the works of Sir Walter Scott.
Glasgow is all the pride we've got.
There are horse-drawn carriages taking ship-yard manager's to work.
Just because they're in charge doesn't mean they can shirk.
There are lots of B & B's.
There are Highland dancers dancing until they freeze.
Glasgow's foundation is a roundabout where life goes round & round each day.
People all go their own way.

I guess I should have written it in the past tense.

 

[Horsa]

The snowy owls journey​

I was watching a snowy owl as she was flying way up high.
I watched her peregrinations as she meandered like a river through the sky.
She saw a fish in a river & swooped down, flying low for a bit to catch her prey by surprise.
Then, all of a sudden she caught & ate him before my very eyes.

Later on, she flew over fields all white with snow.
She was wondering where on earth to go.
She saw children having snowball fights & building snowmen.
She saw something that really caught her eye then.

Flying past a house, she looked through a window & saw a Xmas tree.
It was green with red baubles & silver & gold tinsel & a family were sat around it as happy as can be.
There were presents under the tree & the family were singing Xmas carols & songs.
They were singing as melodiously & harmoniously as you can imagine & as clear as the church bell that dongs.

She was a beautiful bird as white as can be.
It was nice to watch her flying gracefully & free.

 

[Horsa]

The Storms of War

Although it was sunny, a thunderstorm was raging,
The tempestuous past between England & Scotland wasn't aging.
Spears & arrows were raining down.
In drops of blood people could drown.
Drops of blood & tears were falling,
While on the battle-fields soldiers were brawling
In the distance looking on, women were screaming & babies were bawling.
While back on the battlefield, thunderclaps were rending the air
While wounded & dead people laid everywhere.
Swords like claps of thunder were clashing.
While soldiers their foes were bashing
& their enemies they were thrashing.

 

[Horsa]

Why is Sage
all the rage?

It is hard to use.
It blows my fuse.

I prefer using spreadsheets or doing things the old way.
It's taking all my time to keep self-critical thoughts at bay.

I really feel so thick.
I really want my wounds to lick.

 

[Horsa]

I can't believe it. I've just won gold in a contest with the poem below:

I’m right-brained I’m sure you’ll find.
I have got a very creative mind.
I write poems, short stories and songs.
I love doing or saying things where there are no rights or wrongs.

I’m intuitive & participate in many crafts & arts.
My capabilities are made up of different parts.
I paint, sew, weave, make hats & pots as well as knit.
I’ve got a good imagination, whatever you’re feeling I can feel it.

I'm now working harder to get more poems written to fill a book.

 

[Kieran]

I can't believe it. I've just won gold in a contest with the poem below:

I’m right-brained I’m sure you’ll find.
I have got a very creative mind.
I write poems, short stories and songs.
I love doing or saying things where there are no rights or wrongs.

I’m intuitive & participate in many crafts & arts.
My capabilities are made up of different parts.
I paint, sew, weave, make hats & pots as well as knit.
I’ve got a good imagination, whatever you’re feeling I can feel it.

I'm now working harder to get more poems written to fill a book.

Well done! It’s like the Bob Dylan song, I Contain Multitudes (borrowed from Walt Whitman)..

 

[Horsa]

Well done! It’s like the Bob Dylan song, I Contain Multitudes (borrowed from Walt Whitman)..

Thank you very much. (I'm better at writing songs than poems & some of my poems turn into songs.) It was based on the prompt, using the theory of right-brained people being creative + lots of traits & left-brained people being logical + lots of traits what do you think you are & why? show examples in a poem of 16 lines or less. (Based on my latest achievements I'd have said I was more-or-less balanced but I'd just helped to give a pottery workshop at work so I was feeling more creative.)

 

[tented]

I can't believe it. I've just won gold in a contest with the poem below:

I’m right-brained I’m sure you’ll find.
I have got a very creative mind.
I write poems, short stories and songs.
I love doing or saying things where there are no rights or wrongs.

I’m intuitive & participate in many crafts & arts.
My capabilities are made up of different parts.
I paint, sew, weave, make hats & pots as well as knit.
I’ve got a good imagination, whatever you’re feeling I can feel it.

I'm now working harder to get more poems written to fill a book.

Congrats on the gold medal!

 

[Horsa]

Congrats on the gold medal!

Thank you very much. :0)

 

[Horsa]

Well done! It’s like the Bob Dylan song, I Contain Multitudes (borrowed from Walt Whitman)..

Thank you very much for the comparison. (It's a beautiful, rhyming song. I can see where you found the similarities.)

I'm very sorry for the delay in this response but I'd never heard of that song so didn't know how to take it & I was listening to other music & reading Elizabeth Gaskell's life of Charlotte Bronte. (If comparisons are made writer's have to read or listen to ensure that comparisons aren't made because it seems too close to the original version. As I realize it isn't I can take the compliment. Thank you very much.)

 

[Horsa]

Walking my friendly, furry family member at break of day​

I was walking my friendly, furry family member at break of day,
When the rising sun on my dogs black, silky fur shone its golden ray.
I was walking along the nice, sandy beach
When the waves flowed & my feet they did reach.

The sand felt like velvet under my feet
While my toes the waves went to meet.
The grains of sand ran like the sands of time.
While the sea washes away every bit of grime.

I loved to see the motion,
of the then calm, serene ocean.
Showing my dog undying devotion.
To calm every destructive emotion.

 

[Horsa]

When the time gets to midnight
Ghosts, ghouls, witches, werewolves & monsters come in sight.
Though we only see them in moonlight.
Or in nightmares where they haunt
As well as pubs which are their favourite haunt.
When vampires come out to play.
Ghosts, ghouls, witches & monsters go their own way.
They give us a scare. They give us a fright.
They do it all by the full moons light.

 

[Horsa]

The lateness of the hour​

It's getting late.
It's time to hate.
All the things going on.
Nightmares are a con.
Or are they?

Eat your garlic to keep vampires at bay.
Witches and killers are coming your way.
As well as the monsters & ghosts you don't see all day.

Hideous demons knocking on every door.
Who are the ghoulish beings coming for?
Watch out for the emerald, green faces
That pop up in all the wrong places.
Scary, staring eyes that petrify you.
Watch out or everyone else will be stone too.

Hearts of ice and stone.
Are you scared to be alone?

Watch out when someone approaches you.
They might not want to just say boo.

You're sick of night.
You wish you were safe in bed.
You've had a fright.
You wish all these ghosts, witches & monsters were dead.

 

[Horsa]

The torture chamber of your mind​

You need to be armed to enter the torture chamber of your minds.
You need to shield yourself from the internal weapons of all kinds.
The medieval torture chamber which screws you up with unkind words & negative thoughts.
They intertwine with dreams & interesting information so sometimes you need negative thought to be separated by forts.

Sometimes your mind is a battlefield with good thoughts fighting against bad.
Your mind can be a battlefield with happy thoughts fighting with the sad.
Sometimes from the spears & arrows of negative words & harsh experiences we need a shield.
It's necessary to have a shield & sword to defend ourselves from our mental battlefield.

We're constantly fighting a battle everyday.
In our minds we're fighting in every way.

In the torture chamber of your mind,
Along with negative thoughts, unkind words & pleasant dream you find.
Ghosts, ghoulies, monsters & witches of all kinds.
That haunts our dreams from the depths of our minds.

 

[Horsa]

Adorable appalloosas ambling along​

Adorable appalloosas ambling along
Dancing to their favourite song.
They're as happy as can be.
Running and jumping wild and free.

Beautiful creatures for you to see.
Loving and kind to you and me.
Jumping over hurdles and hedges
Peeping in at window ledges.

Coats of satin or silk
Coloured as white as milk
With spots as black as coal.
Oh! Look there! She's had a foal.

Watch the appalloosas play!
Hear them whinney or neigh!

 

[Horsa]

A nice day at the coast​

The wind rustles through the trees.
Your hair blowing in the gentle breeze.
You can smell the sea in the air.
The smell of salt is everywhere.

Seagulls calling out to you.
They want fish and chips like you do.
Waves gently rolling on the sand.
You're deciding whether to stay on dry land.

Or should you cruise around the bay.
& make the most of a good day.

 

[Horsa]

When I was a girl I dreamt​

When I was a girl I dreamt of having a farm.
There was a reason why it held such charm.
I dreamt of work-horses ploughing the fields.
Harvesting the crops that the land yields.

I dreamt of sheep-dogs rounding up sheep
Before coming in around the fire to sleep.
I dreamt of stroking their silky coat.
On them & horses I'd dote.
For my favourite animals they'd get the vote.

I dreamt of waking up to the barn owls coo
As well as the cockerel calling you.
I dreamt of picking up hens eggs
While watching they didn't peck my legs.

 

[shawnbm]

Hello Anne--do you still have any of the little ditties I have sent you over the years? If you do, can you post them as I had to change computers and can't find what I send you in the past. They are short little poems that came to me quickly, often in reply to you and one of yours. I would love to see them as I never recorded them and I am thinking of keeping a journal of some of mine too. You have inspired me over time! Thank you.

 

[Horsa]

Hello Anne--do you still have any of the little ditties I have sent you over the years? If you do, can you post them as I had to change computers and can't find what I send you in the past. They are short little poems that came to me quickly, often in reply to you and one of yours. I would love to see them as I never recorded them and I am thinking of keeping a journal of some of mine too. You have inspired me over time! Thank you.

Hello Shawn! I will look for them (when I have time) and post them if I find them. I'm glad you enjoyed my poems and that they inspired you to write too. I really enjoyed reading your poems. You're welcome.

 

[Horsa]

Hello Anne--do you still have any of the little ditties I have sent you over the years? If you do, can you post them as I had to change computers and can't find what I send you in the past. They are short little poems that came to me quickly, often in reply to you and one of yours. I would love to see them as I never recorded them and I am thinking of keeping a journal of some of mine too. You have inspired me over time! Thank you.

When I haven't been so busy, I've been looking those poems out. I found this one which was the second one you wrote and shared.

In a rut, where there is no end apparent;
Spinning roundly the wheels run rampant;
why is it that I just can't supplant
the morose drone of another work day?