I have two poems with horses in them - bery different from each other. Here's one.
THE SPIRIT WORLD
No point looking for them in castles with Gothic mansards, widows' walks, or on deserted moors. Ghosts like action. That's why you'll find so many at the track --the prickle on your neck as you stand at the five dollar window and say a name
(not one you'd figured) seventeen to one at the last tick --the wind over your shoulder as the horses enter the clubhouse turn, an echo of your screams as the nag makes a late bid, an acrid scent as it fades
to fifth. The ghosts don't follow the ponies, though no trainer holds secrets from them, though they'd have leisure to make the form yield up its secret truths. The truth is they don't care who wins. They don't need money. They're in it for the jolt of what only flesh holds in-- what blazes from eyes, tugs stomachs like sex glands-- what winning snarls with greed and responsibility, but losing gives pure.
I really love this one, especially because I happen to be reading a story from a ghost's pov in the OneStory series Bonnie got me for her last Christmas. I'm finally reading them. The story is called "Phases" and rather backs up your poem. Trying to find things to excite them having group therapy sessions, and stuff. LOL
You do find fascinating things to write about. Have you ever seen a ghost? I've had some experiences, and we had a ghost cat once. People would say, "I didn't know you had a cat..." And I would reply, "We don't." True story!
You're better than this. This poem is better than this. What is the one thing you're saying throughout the poem and especially vividly in "the smell never reached me"? That horse reality never entered the picture. You say it in the first line. So why the need to spell it out in the last three lines? Are you telling your readers you think they're so dense they won't get it? Come on -- be the poet you are.
I don't know but, I liked both versions. It reminded me of the first time Lori rode a horse. She was 7 and took a plane down to Texas, ( by herself, mind you!) She went to see her cousin Carrie Sue. Well, Carrie offered to "lead" Lori around on a horse for a slow ride...Ha Ha Ha!!! Lori got on and kicked the damn thing in the flanks and rode that horse. Carrie Sue said...how did you learn to ride like that. Lori, said, I watched it on TV!! My Lori is an adventurer!
I love everything about this."Happily neighing and sputtering" is a wonderful line. The horse as your "silly girl" reaches the heart. And the concluding takes the poem beyond.
Well, not much action here, so this is my other horse poem -- this one something of an exercise in surrealism.
THIS IS WHAT REALLY HAPPENED
This is what really happened, and this is what they really thought about it, as the evidence pointed obsessively to the fact of my absence: the window boxes bored from below, rhizomes sucked dry, all the keys in a B-flat 7th chord pried loose from the piano, and everything grabbed up that even resembled a breast, including plungers, mutes, and the elbows of drains.
They wrapped themselves in the comforter, and went over to the window. It was close to evening, and the setting sun blinded them but gave no warmth; they stood closer together, and as the last rays slanted upward from the hilltop, they saw me and my horse standing there.
Yeah, no rhyme, but the octet-sextet length seemed just enough to say what I wanted. Well, that's a little ridiculous, because I don't know that I wanted to say anything--more likely, to create a really strange world, with an ending from a familiar fantasy world -- who was that masked man?
This is a very touching poem...You gave enough imagery so we could see the age and condition of the rocking horse and I loved you restoring it!! Beautiful
he wandered through the forest green silver mane and silver tail glowed and flowed with grace the fairy princess saw him through the tower window and she coveted him right now it’s fur was blue his horn was white and glow when it was dark yes, she thought I must have him ! He will be my own! She followed him around the deep forest trees till she spotted his home of rest and baited him with candy and cake and other fluff a sucker for treats he followed our princess home she didn’t really fence him in! She kept him there...with sweets!
I have two poems with horses in them - bery different from each other. Here's one.
ReplyDeleteTHE SPIRIT WORLD
No point looking
for them in castles with
Gothic mansards, widows'
walks, or on deserted
moors. Ghosts like action.
That's why you'll find
so many at the track
--the prickle on your
neck as you stand
at the five dollar
window and say a name
(not one you'd figured)
seventeen to one at
the last tick
--the wind over your
shoulder as the horses
enter the clubhouse
turn, an echo
of your screams as the nag
makes a late bid, an acrid
scent as it fades
to fifth. The ghosts don't
follow the ponies, though no
trainer holds secrets from
them, though they'd have
leisure to make the form
yield up its secret truths.
The truth is they don't care
who wins. They don't need money.
They're in it for the jolt of
what only flesh holds in--
what blazes from eyes,
tugs stomachs like sex glands--
what winning snarls with
greed and responsibility,
but losing gives pure.
I really love this one, especially because I happen to be reading a story from a ghost's pov in the OneStory series Bonnie got me for her last Christmas. I'm finally reading them. The story is called "Phases" and rather backs up your poem. Trying to find things to excite them having group therapy sessions, and stuff. LOL
DeleteGhosts at the track. Love this.
DeleteYou do find fascinating things to write about. Have you ever seen a ghost? I've had some experiences, and we had a ghost cat once. People would say, "I didn't know you had a cat..." And I would reply, "We don't." True story!
Deleteyes, perfect as usual. I really enjoyed this. I loved thinking that horses have ghosts...nice thought
DeleteI have never ridden
ReplyDeletea horse but
as a 10-year-old
I rode often
between covers of books.
I rode on
The Black Stallion,
King of the Wind.
Misty of Chincoteague
Black Beauty.
My Friend Flicka felt
more like my friend
than Sue or Bob or Joe.
I sat on
the porch and rode hard.
Horses snorted.
Little foals nursed greedily.
Horseboys swept
out stables, the smell
never reached me.
I imagined riding
like the wind.
Horse reality
never entered
the pages of horse dreams.
I never rode either. I love this perspective and the how the smell never reached you. Lol. Favorite line.
DeleteYou're better than this. This poem is better than this. What is the one thing you're saying throughout the poem and especially vividly in "the smell never reached me"? That horse reality never entered the picture. You say it in the first line. So why the need to spell it out in the last three lines? Are you telling your readers you think they're so dense they won't get it? Come on -- be the poet you are.
DeleteAwwww. I liked "horse reality", a take on "harsh reality", but you're the Master. I will rewrite the last stanza.
DeleteWell, ended up changing it so the new verse is next to last.
DeleteI have never ridden
a horse but
as a 10-year-old
I rode often
between covers of books.
I rode on
The Black Stallion,
King of the Wind.
Misty of Chincoteague
Black Beauty.
My Friend Flicka felt
more like my friend
than Sue or Bob or Joe.
I sat on
the porch and rode hard.
Inside, my dad
and mom, in the background,
voices roared
like wild buffalo.
I kept riding.
New foals nursed greedily.
Colts snorted.
Horseboys curried them,
swept out stables.
The smell never reached me.
I do like this better.
DeleteInteresting presentation in the second that brings that is all more down to reality. Lots to think about...
DeleteI don't know but, I liked both versions. It reminded me of the first time Lori rode a horse. She was 7 and took a plane down to Texas, ( by herself, mind you!) She went to see her cousin Carrie Sue. Well, Carrie offered to "lead" Lori around on a horse for a slow ride...Ha Ha Ha!!! Lori got on and kicked the damn thing in the flanks and rode that horse. Carrie Sue said...how did you learn to ride like that. Lori, said, I watched it on TV!! My Lori is an adventurer!
DeleteGalloping Through the Storm.
ReplyDeleteWhoa Nellie!
A galloping we go.
Ta da dum, ta da dum, ta da dum...
We move wild and free.
The air is hot
as I lean in and hold on.
My heat is beating as hard
as the animal beneath me.
We go off the beaten path
dodging branches and
leaping over stone walls.
I know where she is taking me.
The pond is glistening
and the tree is ripe.
We halt. She nibbles the fruit
happily neighing and sputtering.
I slide off her to dip my toes.
The water is sparkling.
My silly girl steps in too.
She whinnies. I laugh.
The birds song lessens
as the clouds roll across the sky.
I grab her reins and we stroll home
before the storm of growing old.
I liked this a lot. Especially the last line. The extra twist.
DeleteI like the poem a lot, and the last line makes me wish more was somehow written into the poem that is reflective of this metaphor...fun.
DeleteYou took me for a GREAT ride Sue!! The imagery was fantastic!
DeleteIm sorry I missed last week. Writing daily was easier for me than weekly. I lost a whole week! I am going to try and keep up and catch up.
ReplyDeleteI love everything about this."Happily neighing and sputtering" is a wonderful line. The horse as your "silly girl" reaches the heart. And the concluding takes the poem beyond.
ReplyDeleteWell, not much action here, so this is my other horse poem -- this one something of an exercise in surrealism.
ReplyDeleteTHIS IS WHAT REALLY HAPPENED
This is what really happened, and this
is what they really thought about it,
as the evidence pointed obsessively to the fact of my absence:
the window boxes bored from below, rhizomes sucked dry,
all the keys in a B-flat 7th chord
pried loose from the piano,
and everything grabbed up that even resembled a breast,
including plungers, mutes, and the elbows of drains.
They wrapped themselves in the
comforter, and went over to the window.
It was close to evening, and the setting sun blinded them
but gave no warmth; they stood closer together,
and as the last rays slanted upward from the hilltop,
they saw me and my horse standing there.
Interesting though obtuse as I expect it is supposed o be... a 14 line surreal sonnet?
DeleteYeah, no rhyme, but the octet-sextet length seemed just enough to say what I wanted. Well, that's a little ridiculous, because I don't know that I wanted to say anything--more likely, to create a really strange world, with an ending from a familiar fantasy world -- who was that masked man?
DeleteI liked it! It held my attention from beginning to end and I read mere between the lines...nice
DeleteFound this one to be too obtuse for me. But it does have a horse! LOL
DeleteMy Daddy's Rocking Horse
ReplyDeleteIts mane gone, its tail now
wisps of a stub clinging
on the blocky behind.
Faded grey and white paint
clothed its wooden sides.
It swung back and forth
On rusty steel, its body
suspended to sway above
the red wooden frame
stable and safe.
The would-be cowboy sat
on a red leather saddle,
thin with age, holding
scraps of attached leather
chasing imaginary bandits.
I found it upstairs in the attic
of the old barn. The rooms
musty, dusty, and mostly
Unused except for storing
what no one wanted.
I can see it still as it was,
although my father
had it restored to
its original glory so
his son could ride the range.
This is a very touching poem...You gave enough imagery so we could see the age and condition of the rocking horse and I loved you restoring it!! Beautiful
DeleteI love this, especially restoring it so his son could ride.
DeleteVery nice. No wasted words, paints a picture.
ReplyDeletehe wandered through
ReplyDeletethe forest green
silver mane
and silver tail
glowed and flowed with grace
the fairy princess saw him
through the tower window
and she coveted him right now
it’s fur was blue
his horn was white
and glow when it was dark
yes, she thought
I must have him !
He will be my own!
She followed him around
the deep forest trees
till she spotted
his home of rest
and baited him with candy
and cake and other fluff
a sucker for treats
he followed our princess home
she didn’t really fence him in!
She kept him
there...with sweets!
Cute. Several of your poems lately are fairy tales. You should think about illustrating them.
Delete