TRF Poem of The Year 2014

[gamble]

I have seen Cormack’s
somewhat confrontational post
on

the troublers

. I will
not reply just yet so others
may not miss it, and for a long
important post it is my
custom to allow a wide berth
in respect to the writer.
Yes that sort of intensive post does
take three quarters or more – one
sometimes has to think harder and
occasionally re-phrase.
I am travelling tomorrow
a ferry is involved but
for the moment I will
purely observe and think.
It is a shot across the bows for
me and this is rare but not
unwelcome. The lifeblood of a
forum is the contrary view
and I welcome it.

I think it is more likely
I will make a reply and more
than likely it will be more
defensive than attacking – but
I will also consider as well
the health of this house and
the appropriateness of the time
for me as I was anyway winding down.

POETRY

I found horsey horsey initially
a challenge and a poke in the
eye to poetry itself and
very confrontational – it
created a similar reaction to
Brand’s title – my booky wooky
not that I ever read it but
the title fitted into the genre of
horsey horsey or vice versa.

I have to say I rather hate poetry
in a way because I can never learn
it easily by rote. Horsey horsey
was the first poem I could recite
immediately even a day afterwards.
There is a perversity to it.
It grew on me and it sounded a bit
like a horse in motion – clippity
clippity clop !
On an amusing note if a horse could
communicate and not that they show
a lot of humour horsey horsey is
I guess what they might say to us
A sort of perverse art. I don’t know
if it was a eureka moment or Hall
struggled with it for hours as
he suggested – I think possibly
the former
I do like the unusual and possibly
am a bit eccentric but these are
my opinions

[Nathan Hughes]

Seeing as the prize is virtual why can’t you have a deadheat.

The prize is a mystery prize
same as last year
I won sod all
but Tommy, the

horses

mouth
can confirm
my mystery prize he won
was a photo of a man
who does the leap
and was not cheap
in particular
the p@pee
to wexford
Ireland
you see

Too many Thatcher’s Gold tonight I think, but managed a 26 break….

Blackbeard to conquer the World

[Triptych]

Horsey Horsey has officially gone viral.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kfPKWCITnps

Things turn out best for those who make the best of how things turn out...

[Lone Wolf]

I’m investigating possible vote rigging. Nathan got his votes from ”mrs hughes’, ‘def john’, ‘is my hearind aid working’, ‘can you say that again’, ‘i drink alcopops’ and ‘ any name will do’ . He also had votes from ‘darren83′, plus darren84 minus one’.

[Nathan Hughes]

I saw Deaf Jon walking on the other side of the road today.
I shouted out to him, but he didn’t hear me, either that or he was ignoring me.

Blackbeard to conquer the World

[gamble]

What about an irreverent addition
to make the real unreal
and the unreal real
and turn the voting
upside down

MY LOVELY LOVELY HORSE

My lovely lovely lovely voice.

My lovely voice (my lovely voice),
Running through the house (running through the house).

Where are you going,
I hope your with this house
With your thoughts a blowing
so wild in the wind?

I want to feed you with correction.
And ride you over the right fences.
Polish your hooves every single day
So Matron will feed you your hay

My lovely lovely lovely voice.

My lovely voice (my lovely voice),
You’re a sonny no more (you’re a sonny no more).
Running around, with a sentence on your back,
like satanic verses it’s not right

What a painful sight (sax solo)

We have to lose this voice

Oh, baby, baby, it’s a wild word
It’s hard to get by so why not a smile
Oh, baby, baby, it’s a wild word
I’ll always remember this house for a while,
girl

You know I’ve seen a lot of what the word can do
And it’s breakin’ my heart in two
Because I never wanna see you a bad word
Don’t be a bad word
But if you wanna grieve, take good care
I hope you meet a lot of nice verbs out there
But just remember there’s a lot of bad words out there

EDIT THAT

Just to see him smile, makes my life worthwhile
To know, know, know him is to love, love, love him
And I do

I’ll be good to him, I’ll bring love to him
Everyone says there’ll come a day when I’ll walk alongside of him
Yes, just to know him is to love, love, love him
And I do

Why can’t he see, how blind can he be
Someday he’ll see how this house was really meant to be

[ricky lake]

It is a shot across the bows for
me and this is rare but not

Sometimes its good to think

good songs BTW

[gamble]

thinking is not in the splash vocabulary
but tetchy might be

Father Ted’s my favourite horse and the musical
renditions were all on the crouching menace
in colour last night.

Nothing showing on this channel
go to systems for action thriller

CONGRATS TO GORGEOUS

[Nathan Hughes]

Nothing showing on this channel
go to systems for action thriller

CONGRATS TO GORGEOUS

Thanks Gorgeous Gamble.

The thriller in the systems was a lock out.

Everyone is tuning in here in anticipation of the famous 19 or 21 being named and shamed and getting the forum asbo.

Blackbeard to conquer the World

[gamble]

I am like Assange at the moment
I cannot say much and I am costing too much !
Excruciatingly correct behaviour
is the order at the moment.
Davies is spot on

Inspired poetry from you Nathan
and I gave Hall a leg up
to double his vote
There was a previous comp
I came second with

the fly

if you remember that

Steve called it pretty well
backbone and glue for
King Ginger and you
With Ginger’s disc out
the place is walking
like a very old man
but I might add

Spiffingly good fellows
all of you what ?

[Nathan Hughes]

Was yours not this one Gamble?

Cheltenham Hill

Dont spill my Cheltenham hill
get home the browns the greys
the dappled bays dont fill
the landscape with a chill but
gently bounce their warm hearts
still their nerves till
through soft sensuous grasses
they finish to hear the cheer
hey hey

Blackbeard to conquer the World

[Nathan Hughes]

This is your masterpiece I believe Sir

Horsefly

Zilzal and Polish Precedent ….
waited nonchalantly in the wings
It was the race before the big one
the starter was fussing on other things
not who was to be crowned the rightful heir
as a fly rose from his nose into the air
to settle in a lively mare
he blew it as the gates opened
his nose and it flared
and all heels broke loose
as away they teared

hooves rose
grass married with mud shot and flew
high up to mix and spatter hue
of bigger shirted colours
the race was on
the first bend upon
a shout a pull
a squabble for position
jockeys bones bent
in single concentrated mission
forget the rest its a one man crew
the fly clung on shaken by speed
just hating the hulabaloo

Reds greens
yellows – blues too
shimmied and startled
filling the creature’s
little black eyes
so full of surprise
four hours left to suck
and live on muck
what will he do to chuck
the unceasing ticker tape
that is time unstuck
to stop that sieve of life
having just the one take
his hair type legs stuck badly
little rakes
atop a tirelessly
raging waterfall of running time
how will his eyes survive
his wings arrive

Purple people flashed by
four legs bent on victory
Git out of the way
I’ll not survive
cant see
Get off the mane
onto the rail
avoiding spittle and beaten tail
he’d left the pain
of whips
the rest
then spread his wings
into a sail
to catch the queen Elizabeth sun
de-rail
on a slither of grass
a crumb
a cabbage patch
or might have been
all was so blissfully
silent and unseen
nothing attached
not even a hum
He had landed
surely on cream
but a cussed hard
dirge followed
to unsettle the scene

They got him on the second circuit
a deadly run
or so it seemed
eyes in the back of his head
that had not seen
the classic
that started with a scream
and he’d snoozed for a
fortieth of a lifetime
to be woken by a god
with metal feet
who forcibly fashioned
him out of line
into a being unclean
his future shipped into the breeze
of nothingness
He was shaped like a dime
Oh deathly gust
Oh Jesus
surely its not his time
With such ease
Zilzal stretched his
post race legs
lifting the death hoof
with unknowing tread
the same hoof he had dented
and teased the French
there was no polish president

The Ascot oak was lighter
it sighed
for its acorns
shed by the victor as he
rocketed by
like a big calf racing car
and picked up by little boys
into a jar
It was just another race for
the thundering hooves
for the bigger boys that
capture the mood
with their bundled easy ploy twenties
crumpling Elizabeth into cow pat faeces
to sit above their losers vests
just a normal end to a day at the races

Think on their quest
the beaten the sodden
the little lives
societies forgotten flies
for where is majesty
without their trifling tribe
of downtrodden tiny lost dreams
no longer alive
Imperious ones if you now dare
point your scissor sharp wits
not at their myriad minuscule
beaten up eyes and badly cut hair
cut them not to bits
Or you at your peril you that rule
You can join them in the same fly pit

Patterned wings terribly torn …
excreta shafted into mud
a creature forlorn
no sound of the thud
a smudge of black tar
worn down
his fur long out
spread into the crud
flattened on a blade of grass
by a four legged slave
who’d butterflied his bottom half
into an emperor
Zilzallied into history
with the blood of a fly
on his hoof
and he aloof
to the lifeblood
he had snuffed and shortened
as he stretched a powerful leg
for a large fee
of immortality

The other flies cried
lifting their heads drunk
with grief
not a dry eye
as a fellow had died
and they sat on the rail
so pale and denied
no one heard their wail
The bookmakers necks
looked all rather frail
as their satchels
whimpered and sighed
for fresh chalk another race
and a weaker forgiving god
who possessed a blind eye

No anger to vent …
no time for a why
what a classic way
for a fly to die
No cup for him
no sugar just slime
spread out in lumpy cold winds
defying the lords of time
and a stiff wait for
the answer to sin
and the ghost of Zilzal
the only god to touch him
and a roar to settle
in time

Oh why Oh why …
as you live on
as a god
did I die as a fly ?

Blackbeard to conquer the World

[gamble]

Thank you so much kindly sir,
I got the title wrong
Yes the smaller poem over page
was mine – I entered two to try
to have a better chance of winning
– an outside judge gave me
second place. Flies never
win anything – it’s worse
than a dog’s life
Never mind the result which
I was quite pleased with
the writing was so much fun
Spect you had a lot of fun
with Gorgeous in fact maybe
more fun sir – mine was more
nostalgia, slush and a little
regret that in my life
I have murdered
quite a few flies

I was there to watch Zilzal
in the QE11 led all the way
and a terrific turn of foot
that gave me spine tingle
I was the fly on the rail
got the tingle later with Dancing Brave.
Frankel just affected my jaw

[Nathan Hughes]

Yes it was great fun.
I wasn’t entirely happy with the verses of Moehat or Triptych and wish I had taken longer over it.

Looks like yourself and Andrew Hughes could of played out a Sudden Death shoot-out. But reading between the lines they gave you the verdict.

http://www.theracingforum.co.uk/horse-racing-forum/viewtopic.php?f=14&t=73112&hilit=+poetry

Blackbeard to conquer the World

[Nathan Hughes]

I wonder how many flies have had their faces smashed in over the years by a rolled up racing post? I spray them first now to give me the advantage.

Blackbeard to conquer the World

[gamble]

Six years ago hmmm
possibly happier times
in here – we had people then !

Andrew Hughes seemed
to draw with me – or maybe it
was Pilsen with a late
vote for him – I just
do not remember sir
– I am empty

[gamble]

spray them with what ?

[Author]

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