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...

[John Jackson (El Juero)]

Wonderful wording. You shared a real thrill.

[Audrey Howitt]

Tate I loved this! A great sense of rhythm that just explodes on the page!

[R J Askew]

Well done Tate. This is a strong ballad on a thrilling subject, with lesson in the tail for all of us. Ballads are really well suit to action themes and your racing exploits fit the bill perfectly. It was a great read and it was good to see you varying your style and having a go at the ballad form. I hope you will do more in this vein.

[Patricia B. Hepler]

So, after reading the many excellent reviews & comments: I completely, thoroughly agree with all reviews and especially with your author's note...

For David Paget: You are an excellent role model.
For Tate: You are an excellent student.

Excellent write. ~ Peace. ~pat

[Distant horizons]

Perfectly captured Tate. You took us there, and yes, an excellent tip of the hat to Mr Paget. I think i'll have a lot more writing and learning to do before I could attempt it.

[Rikkevi Rue]

Aye laddy buck, this one fills the heart indeed! The closer one rides to the kiss of death the sterner the stuff of his mettle must be and yee strapped me right behind the snorting steed fer sure herein! But I thought perhaps the steed you lament here was the one just o're your shoulder. In my experience no other beast is so finely tuned to its master and breaking her spirit is a sad thing. Better to run to disaster and ruin and die glorious some say!

You are right about the meter, it carries on along at a brisk trot and fairly gallops in the right places. That Paget created the meter I wonder as it has such a familiar ring, though no doubt his craft surpasses the rest of us here! And I am one for the traditional and time-honored. As usual your endearing touch and voice are the strongest suit though Tate. It is not the meter that makes the song, but the quality of the singers voice!

[Kenneth The Poet]

Beautiful work.

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

excellent, powerful read Tate. :)

[Mark]

Tate, I am truly impressed, and so, it seems was David. Never was I less distracted by the occasional misspelling or lack of punctuation (about which you know me to be very anal!) than I was while reading this! The pace (NPI), the flow, the building tension, the moral, all combine to create perhaps my very favorite of your creations, and its applicability to a human's experience (though related in a horse's) is spot-on! Thanks for a really impressive read!