Heart

In honor of my father Eddie who taught me to get back up.

My favorite horse and I Scarlet Message. 

The post parade complete at last

the bugle finally played

My heart pounded as hooves sounded

just get us home safe I prayed

That night was like many others

as I sat behind the stud

 Skies overcast, let loose at last

 each horse seemed to swim in mud

 

 

We turned to face the starting gate

I chirped to set him alight

All could tell as we knew too well

this was a hell of a night

Fire stoked in each the beasts nostrils

I could feel each burning breath

I knew too well, the hounds of hell

might take us both to our death

 

 

We followed the gate to the stretch

the wings closed to let us fly

I tucked him in, hoping he'd win

 and nothing would go awry

On back my neck breathed the Demon

 front-ender that I most feared

The Devils Spell I knew too well

one the gamblers all revered

 

 

Death rode the back of my helmet

his hot breath searing my neck

I’d rather he, be behind me

than in front and cause a wreck

The quarter pole bunched up tightly

the front end had closed ground

Tighter it got, man he was hot

he wanted to run me down

 

 

The hooves pitched limestone in our eyes

we closed on the second turn

At my wheels, nipping on my heels

the Demon began to burn

He wanted out that was certain

but the field had closed us in

I couldn’t see, neither could he

how either of us might win

 

 

The Demon wasn’t used to this

he had never been held back

He would burn wheels, kick up his heels

as he ran off down the track

I could hear his labored breathing

as his driver choked him down

The last turn steered, then we all cleared

it was time to go to town

 

 

The field rolled out of the end turn

as the Red Sea opened wide

My stud snatched his bit, in a fit

we were off for a wild ride

Just in front of the Demon Seed

I felt we'd surely collide

I turned to see, he was on me

as he rolled up alongside

 

 

But the fire had gone out in him

he had spit the bit the beast

He'd choked upon humility

or so it had seemed, at least

We had cleared the rest of the pack

stared down the Demon of Sin

To slip and slide on life’s rough ride

and come out the end to win

 

 

The Demon never won again

retired of a broken heart

I think all knew, as I did too

he would draw an Amish cart

But that’s just how one grows in life

all made at times to feel small

The best aren't mean, though they are seen

to get up, each time they fall

 

Author's Note

What forms the character of a man? Pride in oneself and the ability to accept defeat. It is not as important that a man win as it is that he accept his performance and try his best. Of course anyone who lacks humility will be humbled by rocky shores of life. With or without his permission. This a poem to honor my fathers life. For he was one who always got back up when he fell. A fitting testament to the creed he learned from his own father and then passed down to me.

Reviews

[David Lewis Paget]

Bravo Tate, you've taken that life experience and brought it to life for your readers. The rhythm you chose echoes the hooves of those horses as they thunder along the straight, bringing the race alive, and into the living rooms of everyone who reads this. The only thing this lacks is punctuation, and the lack of this gives halt to the reading in a number of places.
One typo - 'The Demon wasn’t use(d) to this'
Thanks for a great ride...

[...]

Another marvelous work of art, Tate :) Thank you for sharing

[Shy Girl]

I enjoyed riding along with you. This story of just a moment...that spread out to allow us to feel, smell, hear and enjoy is just stunning to read. Don't even get me started on the cadences and beats to each stanzas. The rhymes and meter is just...WOW!!! Thank you for the RR and for riding a moment in time as I've never before. :)

[Lena M. P.]

I thought I detected a bit of David in this poem. Tate this is wonderfully done with the excitement of the race, the need to exceed and the challenge inbred in both animal and man. A truly excellent read.

[*** Hey Jude***]

Your work has evolved as each narration is captivating. The poem you write comes from proficiency, allowing the reader to have a refreshing understanding of pride earned; a place that is always proceeded with humility.
I read with baited breathe, sensing the atmosphere of this race flowing with vivid imagery, and rhyme. As if I were riding along, leaning with each turn, as you masterfully share the intensity of this amazing adventure!
I so respect the message that was gleaned from this skill, and have a deep respect for your poems of life, and living!
~ Once again, Well done ~

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Well done Tate. And a beautiful testament to a sport not understood by many. Thank you for the insight into it. Had to go back and read for the rhythm and meter.
Done well. I have seen him do something similar to the old Highwayman poem as well (a personal favorite of mine), and the cadence is so unusual yet works very well.
Thank you!

[Cole Hayley]

Skies overcast, let loose at last
each horse seemed to swim in mud

A very good read mate. The flow was pitch perfect and I could feel the emotions you had felt writing this.

[Norma M Sutton]

Nicely said.

[Mockingbird]

there are wisdom in these words and a lesson to be learned. we all should have humility rather than pride that can lead to our own demise. great poem. nice rhythm.

[J. J. Nightingale]

I like the last stanza ...

Jazz :)

[Raven Starhawk]

Outstanding. It is fluently brilliant. I was there with the man, watching and hoping, waiting and wondering all the while seeing it all with a sense of anticipation. Just marvelous. It functions like a lyrical story.