I think this is the last poem from "The Piano" I'm going to post here (for a little while at least). This is the last poem in the collection. It also saw it's humble beginnings here at Writer's Cafe.
I fell off a horse
when I was eight years old,
riding through the lush green
rolling hills of Mentone
on the back of a mare
named Misty.
I never rode a horse again.
Now every time
I drive by a stable,
I become filled
with an indescribable longing -
for wind on my skin,
for sun on my face.
On the back of a Palomino -
into the untamed hillside
of some foreign landscape,
I’d like to ride
to where the mothers
of my fathers worshiped now forgotten gods.
I'd ride my Palomino hard -
through Ireland
and Old Germania
like a poet,
like a Pagan
lost in time.
I fell off a horse
when I was eight years old;
chipped my tooth,
cracked my skull,
on the hard ground
beneath me.
I never rode a horse again.
I recently took a trip to Pensacola.
I told my friends
I just couldn't stay,
stay in this
God-forsaken place -
this town
that surrounds,
compounds,
and drowns me
in its urban uselessness -
so suffocating.
Sometimes I need to flee,
find space in which to breathe
and stare blankly
into the distance.
Where for miles nothing lay in front of me,
except Cuba,
which is nothing more
than an idea
on a purple horizon.
Feeling the hot sand between my toes,
I turn in time to spot a man on horseback
riding through a tide pool, and I envy him -
His golden stallion
crashing through
the foam
capped
waves.
I fell off a horse
when I was eight years old,
riding through the lush green
rolling hills of Mentone
on the back of a mare
named Misty.
I like this piece, it is a revelation for one not to give up on their dreams. Very descriptive with vivid imagery; I was taken to these places described by your words, which enabled my mind's eye to paint this picture very clearly. Great work!
RLG,
Tommy
You are one of my favorites here on writerscafe. I've missed your poems so much!
I just love the way you write, the metaphors. I love how I can take my own meaning in your poems and it works just as well as what you meant it to say. That's a gift.
...The way I see it...yeah you have that whole, "get back on the horse" "try, try again" thing, but then again...who cares if you didn't get back on?!
I mean, as long as that hasn't become a dredful pattern in your life, what's it matter? In a lot of ways the regret of not getting back on the horse, and that longing for the ride can be the drive you need to succed in life, that thing that sits in the back of your head and pushes you to keep going.
Beautifully written! I like this side of your writting too!
Read this three times, third time aloud .. there's almost a song in there.
Although I see and understand the falling off the horse and all the interim finely worded lines and stanzas, I see this more as a metaphor for giving up when something goes wrong .. never repeating, never daring .. always thinking back to when. We lose so much from giving up on do and dare.
' Sometimes I need to flee, find space in which to breathe and stare blankly
into the distance. Where for miles nothing lay in front of me, except Cuba,
which is nothing more than an idea on a purple horizon. ' I could so easily feel like that!
His golden stallion
crashing through
the foam
capped
waves.
I read in this piece a metaphor for every hard thing that any of us have ever failed at. Sometimes it takes getting back up, getting back on, to get on with our lives and you have captured that longing and unease perfectly...wanting something that scares you is never easy and you have shown us that here, let us feel those emotions. You are such a strong writer. Thank you.
A thousand symbolisms in this. It is never too late to get back on the horse, but the fear of falling will never go away. The question is: is it better to ride in fear, or sit and long for the ride.
People always tell each other to get off their high horse, but in this case I think you should get on! You can do it. Just let go of your fears. You've got to know that horse don't want to hurt you.
This was interesting. The poem leaves very little to the imagination; after reading it once, I know exactly what I like and exactly what I don't.
What I like is the honesty. This poem is extremely literal aside from a couple metaphoric lines, and wears that quite proudly. You don't throw any veils over your feelings or your situation, and the bluntness works very well.
What I don't like is the schizophrenia in the writing style. The way you've broken some of the lines up is just bizarre (including the pointless dashes every now and again) and while it's not exactly a deal-breaker, it makes reading it a bit disjointed.
The only thing I really don't like is that you don't stick with one tense. Saying "I never rode a horse again" sounds very final, and yet you talk about the present a little later, skewing the relativity. How can you say you "never rode a horse again" when there's obviously more to your life (and therefore the story). A better phrasing would have been, "I have never ridden since" or "I have not ridden a horse since then" or something to that effect.
I like this one...particularly because I'm a horse woman. I can remember falling off of my reining horse at a show one time because she spooked during a slide-stop and I can still hear my trainer's words "You fall off, you get back on"...it's hard lesson to learn, though, and one that is a good metaphor for life.
I really like the feel of this piece...it was conversational, well written, and had great imagery. Nicely done.
Hello. My name is Adam McWhorter. I'm a poet, singer-songwriter, and self-obsessed scrawler...
I used to publish poetry on this website about 2 years ago, but after the "crash" when alot of go.. more..
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