Equin-etry
This page is simply a celebration of horses through poetry and art. Horses have such marvelous presence and sometimes a poem, or piece of art, is able to capture some essence of that presence. All of the paintings below are by a German artist I like, FRANZ MARC. I hope you enjoy the poems, pics and art as much as I do.
There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man.
~ Winston Churchill ~
The wind of heaven is that which blows between a horse's ears.
~ Arabian Proverb ~
Franz Marc
The White Horse
by David Herbert Lawrence
The youth walks up to the white horse, to put its halter on
and the horse looks at him in silence.
They are so silent, they are in another world.
Four Horses
by David Whyte
(excerpt)
On Thursday the farmer
put four horses
into the cut hay-field
next to the house . . .
Since then I see
their curved necks
through the kitchen window,
sailing like swans
past the pale field.
Each morning
their hooves fill my
open door
with an urgency
for something
just beyond my grasp
and I spend my whole
day in an idiot joy,
writing, gardening,
and looking
for it
under every stone.
I find myself
wanting to do
something
stupid and lovely . . .
I hear the whinny of
their fenced and abandoned
freedom
and feel happy
today
in the field
of my own making,
writing non-stop,
my head held high,
ranging the boundaries
of a birthright
exuberance.
Franz Marc
The Love-Chase
by James Sheridan Knowles
What delight To back the flying steed,
that challenges The wind for speed!
seems native more of air Than earth!
whose burden only lends him fire!
Whose soul, in his task, turns labour into sport;
Who makes your pastime his! I sit him now!
He takes away my breath! He makes me reel!
I touch not earth - I see not - hear not.
All Is ecstasy of motion!
Horses and Men in Rain
by Carl Sandburg
LET us sit by a hissing steam radiator a winter's day, gray wind pattering frozen raindrops on the window,
And let us talk about milk wagon drivers and grocery delivery boys.
Let us keep our feet in wool slippers and mix hot punches-and talk about mail carriers and messenger boys slipping along the icy sidewalks.
Let us write of olden, golden days and hunters of the Holy Grail and men called "knights" riding horses in the rain, in the cold frozen rain for ladies they loved.
A roustabout hunched on a coal wagon goes by, icicles drip on his hat rim, sheets of ice wrapping the hunks of coal, the caravanserai a gray blur in slant of rain.
Let us nudge the steam radiator with our wool slippers and write poems of Launcelot, the hero, and Roland, the hero, and all the olden golden men who rode horses in the rain.
Franz Marc
A Blessing
by James Wright
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.
One
by Sarah Katy Williams
He stands proud, head held high majestically
Viewing me with reasonable suspicion
My scent fills his nostrils as he breathes in deep
He bows in acceptance and his trust is won
I reach out to touch his shimmering mane
As his soft muzzle brushes my cheek with hot air
I mount him, marvelling at the strength,
The intimacy of a closeness so rare.
As we take to flight the wind borders our path
Exhilaration and adrenalin floods me
His firm muscles beneath me pulsate
And his wild instincts tell him he must flee
I am comforted by the rocking rhythm
His pounding hooves hypnotise me
I am possessed by awe and childlike wonder
This mystical beast and I unite in harmony
We are one, he is me and I am the horse.
Franz Marc
Horse Poem
by Stanley Harrison
Somewhere in time's own space
There must be some sweet pastured place
Where creeks sing on and tall trees grow
Some paradise where horses go,
For by the love that guides my pen
I know great horses live again.
Horses Moving On the Snow
by David Whyte
In winter
through the damp grass
around the house
there are horses moving
on the snow
in the half-light
they move quickly
following the fence
until the mist takes them
completely
and evening
is the hollow sound of hooves
in the south field.
Franz Marc
Horse and Rider
by Kim Schilling
Galloping towards the base of the steep hill,
watching the breeze bluster through her mane,
with a mild touch I veered her with reign;
For a serene moment all time stood still.
Horse and mount journeying with great skill,
but collectively as one we must attain;
Galloping towards the base of the steep hill,
watching the breeze bluster through her mane.
Feeling the power beneath me is a thrill,
and racing across the meadowy plane,
a feeling rushes over I can't explain,
perhaps the reality of taking a spill;
Galloping towards the base of the steep hill.
Name of Horses
by Donald Hall
All winter your brute shoulders strained against collars, padding
and steerhide over the ash hames,
to haul sledges of cordwood for drying through spring and summer,
for the Glenwood stove next winter, and for the simmering range.
In April you pulled cartloads of manure to spread on the fields,
dark manure of Holsteins, and knobs of your own clustered with oats.
All summer you mowed the grass in meadow and hayfield, the mowing machine
clacketing beside you, while the sun walked high in the morning;
and after noon's heat, you pulled a clawed rake through the same acres,
gathering stacks, and dragged the wagon from stack to stack,
and the built hayrack back, uphill to the chaffy barn,
three loads of hay a day from standing grass in the morning.
Sundays you trotted the two miles to church with the light load
a leather quartertop buggy, and grazed in the sound of hymns.
Generation on generation, your neck rubbed the windowsill
of the stall, smoothing the wood as the sea smooths glass.
When you were old and lame, when your shoulders hurt bending to graze,
one October the man, who fed you and kept you, and harnessed you every morning,
led you through corn stubble to sandy ground above Eagle Pond,
and dug a hole beside you where you stood shuddering in your skin,
and lay the shotgun's muzzle in the boneless hollow behind your ear,
and fired the slug into your brain, and felled you into your grave,
shoveling sand to cover you, setting goldenrod upright above you,
where by next summer a dent in the ground made your monument.
For a hundred and fifty years, in the Pasture of dead horses,
roots of pine trees pushed through the pale curves of your ribs,
yellow blossoms flourished above you in autumn, and in winter
frost heaved your bones in the ground - old toilers, soil makers:
O Roger, Mackerel, Riley, Ned, Nellie, Chester, Lady Ghost.
Franz Marc
Horses Running Free
Horses (haiku)
by Ros Shrapnel
Seventeen hands tall,
Girl's best friend during childhood,
Gallops to her heart.
Horse in Landscape: Franz Marc
by David Whyte
We know the fiery animality
of the purebred horse,
its ghostly hide moving like smoke
over the green landscape.
But must remember
in that wild vulnerability
a natural power of rest.
Marc did it with a bold gesture.
Painted the neck
rising to the curved horizon
and its blue mane swelling in waves.
Primary colors and prime emotion
swirl in the coiled flank.
Head rearing to the pasture's expanse.
The landscape living in its body
as the sinewy horse lives in the world.
Now, as it turns toward you,
head curved to one side
and the wild mane flying
above the distant hoof beats'
incantatory silence,
you are asked again --
What will you do
and what will you say
in the times
when you are left alone
to meet, like this,
the quiet fury of the world?
Franz Marc
The Horse
by Ronald Duncan
Where in this wide world can man find
nobility without pride,
Friendship without envy,
Or beauty without vanity?
Here, where grace is served with muscle
And strength by gentleness confined
He serves without servility;
he has fought without enmity.
There is nothing so powerful, nothing less violent.
There is nothing so quick, nothing more patient.
When God created the horse . . .
from The Koran
When God created the horse, he said to the magnificent creature:
I have made thee as no other.
All the treasures of the earth shall lie between thy eyes.
Thou shalt cast thy enemies between thy hooves,
but thou shalt carry my friends upon they back.
Thy saddle shall be the seat of prayers to me.
And thou fly without any wings, and conquer without any sword.
Franz Marc
The Horse Ride
by Annabel Sheila
Taking a romantic ride today,
We sat upon the wagon.
Suddenly the horse lifted his tail
And we heard a roaring dragon!
The deafening sound hurt my ears
And the smell burned the hairs in my nose.
My girlfriend sat and glared at me.
Somehow my fault I suppose.
It was my idea to take the ride,
But how was I to know?
It really wasn't in my plans;
Didn't know the horse would blow.
The noise and the smell were bad enough,
As the wind blew quickly by.
But I think the very worst of it,
Was the brown stuff in my eye.
My girlfriend's face turned angry red.
So I figured I wouldn't dare,
Advise her of the smelly pieces
Of horse stuff in her hair.
The horse finally stopped; my girl ran away,
Stubbornly lifting her chin.
I think that horse was enjoying himself,
Cause I'm sure I saw him grin.
A lesson learned for me today.
Although I must confess,
I laughed so hard I nearly cried
As I wiped away the mess.
Wild Brumbies Run
by Lee Emmett
wild brumbies run
rumbling hooves rush
through trees and brush
manes glow in sun
galloping, racing
majestic horses
on high-country courses
leaders out-pacing
nostrils are flaring
steaming out-breath
defying death
heart-spirit baring
sweat pours off flanks
taut muscles ripple
leaf-shadows' stipple
plunge river-banks
exhaustion depletes
graze, mild and content
all passion spent
placid day greets
Franz Marc
The Man And His Horse
by Anne Kingsmill Finch
Within a Meadow, on the way,
A sordid Churl resolv'd to stay,
And give his Horse a Bite;
Purloining so his Neighbours Hay,
That at the Inn he might not pay
For Forage all the Night.
With Heart's content th' unloaded Steed
Began to neigh, and frisk, and feed;
For nothing more he car'd,
Since none of all his Master's breed
E'er found such Pasture, at their need,
Or half so well had far'd.
When, in the turning of a Hand,
Out comes the Owner of the Land,
And do's the Trespass eye;
Which puts poor Bayard to a Stand,
For now his Master do's command
Him to return and fly.
But Hunger quick'ning up his Wit,
And Grass being sweeter than the Bit,
He to the Clown reply'd;
Shall I for you this Dinner quit,
Who to my Back hard Burdens fit,
And to the Death wou'd ride?
No; shou'd I as a Stray be found,
And seiz'd upon forbidden Ground,
I'll on this Spot stand still;
For tho' new Riders shou'd abound,
(Or did Mankind this Field surround)
They cou'd but use me ill.
Urge no Man to despair; lest in the Fit
He with some Counterblow thy Head may hit.
About the Artist
- FRANZ MARC (1880 - 1916)
Short biography and the development of his art. PORTRAIT BELOW: by August Macke
Portrait: Franz Marc
Portrait: Franz Marc
Comments Welcome!
Leptirela from I don't know half the time on March 31, 2015:
Noble creatures are Horses.
Still think a horse takes the place of a best friend for a man. Although a lot say it's a dog , who is man's best friend.
A very thorough hub. Just beautiful
joyfuldesigns lm on October 06, 2013:
Wonderful lens I really enjoyed! Awesome poetry, photos and art, makes me want to go riding soon. Great job!
diegocomercio on July 29, 2013:
Never realized how much people love horses. Very nice lens, great pictures and painting of course great poems too. Thanks for that soft breeze after after work hours. Again, nice reading
anonymous on June 11, 2013:
What a wonderful page about horses! I love the artwork that accompanies. LOVE IT.
imagelist lm on March 29, 2013:
Cool...interesting content...
anonymous on March 21, 2013:
I really love house there are so cute
michalk lm on March 03, 2013:
Horses are great
anonymous on February 26, 2013:
Very nice lens for the horse lovers among us.
jean valdor on February 23, 2013:
Some great poems!
anonymous on January 12, 2013:
some where good
giovi64 lm on December 16, 2012:
I love horses, you've created a nice lens, very original.
Tom Maybrier on December 08, 2012:
Love Franz Marc!
anonymous on September 03, 2012:
very interesting and beautiful lens, thank you
anonymous on August 23, 2012:
THANKS SO MUCH NOW I'M NEVER GOING TO TELL ME OFF THANKS SO MUCH
TheresaMarkham on July 19, 2012:
beautiful poems & paintings!
Marc from Edinburgh on July 17, 2012:
I'm a massive Franz Marc fan, and I'm delighted to see his work here :)
anonymous on July 08, 2012:
Beautiful lens! Thank you for making it - I loved the pictures, art work, and the poems (not necessarily in that order :)
anonymous on April 20, 2012:
I love the poems about the horses and the horses are my biggest passion.
anonymous on April 20, 2012:
I love the poems about the horses and the horses are my biggest passion.
StrongMay on March 19, 2012:
I had a good time reading the peoms. Thank you.
anonymous on February 27, 2012:
These truly are beautiful Thank you for making them
mary lighthouse15 on January 28, 2012:
Paintings are so beautiful, and so are the poems!
EponaSpirit on January 26, 2012:
Love these poems! Thank you so very much for the beautiful paintings to view as well! Lovely.
anonymous on January 25, 2012:
these are beautiful indeed, I'm grateful I read these today.
southridgefarmsinc on January 23, 2012:
We love the horse poems and artwork. Great lens!
Renaissance Woman from Colorado on June 12, 2011:
This is my kind of lens. Love everything about it. Wonderful celebration of horses. Thanks!
Darcie French from Abbotsford, BC on March 11, 2011:
Lovely horse poems, rolled to my horse fun pages. You might wish to look into allposters affiliates to sell the art you've posted on this lens, it's very beautiful. Many thanks -:)
Jacqueline Marshall (author) from Chicago area on March 03, 2011:
@ZenandChic: Awesome! Thank you.
patriciapeppy on March 02, 2011:
Love the art work. Love horses too.
Patricia on March 02, 2011:
I love this lens! The art and poems are both good! Blessing this lens and putting it on my poetry review lens!
Titia Geertman from Waterlandkerkje - The Netherlands on December 15, 2010:
Rated, favorited and lensrolled into my Belgian Draft Horse lens. As you know I love poetry and I love horses too. Great lens.
anonymous on December 08, 2010:
The poems name my admiration and awe of The Horse and the horse's patience with us mere humans who impose ourselves upon his back.
Delia on September 15, 2010:
Hello from a Squidoo Greeter! great lens on the poetry and using Franz Marc paintings, he one of my favorite equine artists, I love the colors and naiveté of his paintings
sheriangell on June 18, 2010:
Very nicely done. I enjoyed both the poetry as well as Franz Marc's work.
Amy Fricano from WNY on April 18, 2010:
beauty!
Mona from Iowa on April 17, 2010:
Oh now you've done it. My all time favorite subject horses. Plus I'm a huge fan of Franz Marc though I swear that one image under Horses and Men In Rain is of a horse peeing. Just saying . . . :) Another great lens combining art and poetry,
