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One last poem from Pony for now

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Pony
14 years ago
OK I have decided to condense some of this into Spoils
New stuff at the end


Damned Poem

Spoiler:
It started fourteen years ago
Right here at this same desk
Fourteen years of sweat and tears
I think its still a mess

Retyped, rephrased, redone and all
And still it sits there mute and small
It will not say the thoughts I favor
And get them written onto paper

For fourteen years now I have toiled
This epoch to complete
And yet it sits. Yellow and spoiled
Waiting to be replete

My dictionary has given up
It begs to be set free
The paper shrivels at my touch
A war twixt it and me

“They said “IT’s DONE!!
My friends ( I think)
Its Finished! Great! Complete!
To me it just plain stinks

To beat your head against a wall
Your brain being besot
Is not my type of Poetry
So it can sit and ROT

Pony MM
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JuniorAfro
14 years ago
Thats decent Pony. Got anymore?
1
Pony
14 years ago
Yeah Jr a few
Here is one.
More later.

The Lump
Spoiler:

THE LUMP

I woke up this morning as numb as an oaf
For there by my knee was a lump like a loaf

A Tumor? A swelling? From injury unknown?
I feared for to touch it. This something new grown

Finally, with fingers trembling with fear,
I lifted the quilt and what did I hear?

“Meow Meow now please go away
I’m sleeping you see for it is just day”

“In case you’ve forgotten sir this is MY bed
Why don’t you lay on that old couch instead?

“YOUR bed indeed” I said to the lump
Now you can sleep on the floor on your rump

And then I got up and thought with a Harrumph
Why am I having a debate with a lump?”

The answer my friends is simple you see
That lump in my bed is smarter than me

© Pony MM
0
Pony
14 years ago
This one,as many of my poems do, comes with a story..Sorry but the story is longer than the poem. But it may give you some insight as to why and how I write.

As a kid I used to go with my best friend Rick Bowen to his aunt and uncles ranch in Baggs Wyoming. We would save our money all year (I had a paper route) and take the Greyhound from Los Angeles to Rawlins. "Uncle" Frank and "Aunt Nette would pick us up. We would work harvesting hay and rounding up cattle all summer. Rick had this girl friend Bev who would come from her daddys home in Rawlins and spend the summer with us
Rick was one year older than I and when he graduated, moved to Uncle franks ranch to live. Somewhere between his getting there and about a year later Bev said she was pregnant and claimed it was Ricks. Big to do the end result being Rick ran away. No one ever heard anything about him and it turned out that Bev "confessed" that she had made it up to get Rick to marry her. That was Roughly 1957
Fast forward to 1971.
I,of course by this time was out of school, married and one Son and one on the way My parents still lived in the same house where I grew up
According to Mom The phone rang and a man asked to speak to me
My Mom told him I had married and moved etc and asked what was this about
Man said he was from the Idaho Coroners Dept and needed me to identify a body.
Seems the "body" had a business card I had made in the school print shop as a project. My name the address and our phone number. it was the only "clue" they had.
So I went.
When I got there it was Rick. Older, beat up, worn out but still Rick.
I asked what happened and he told me the circumstances that the railroad worker reported to the Sheriff as to how and where he found the body.
The poem written a year later tells Ricks Story as near as I can make it out.

a cowboy christmas
Spoiler:

Cowboy Christmas

Its Christmas Eve beneath the bridge
Up North near the Canuck line
And underneath, an old man sits
A fire makes tin cans shine

He's old and tired and near stove in
His days are at an end
The snow and ice on trestles and beams
Are a Christmas tree to him

His Christmas meal
A can of stew heated on the fire
With melted snow, and a old tea bag
With bread cooked on a wire

As it draws dark and the cold grabs hold
He thinks of years gone by
Of other Christmas's come and gone
The years, how they did fly

Of other Christmas nights like this
In countries far away
And all alone at some outpost
No tree, nor place to Pray

But all in all he thinks aloud
“My life was not that bad
I've lived through War and fought like hell
And always made it back”

And now he thinks its time at last
To point myself toward home
“Tomorrow morning at first light
I'll start once more alone”

He leaves the fire for its last warmth
There's naught around to burn
And covered with a old worn sheet
His bag beneath his head

Under the frozen bridge he sleep
With home inside his head
“Tomorrow morning” fills his dreams
The goal a glowing light

On the road the snowplow runs
Clearing the way ahead
To make it safe for travelers
Headed where ere they go

The plow digs in and clears the road
Throws snow and ice aside
And dumps its gray and frozen load
It’s path is clean and wide

The plow man done he parks his rig
And heads his truck toward home
To warmth and family and love
A wife , a girl, a son

At supper time the girl says Grace
And starts with "God Protect"
Those travelers and unfortunates
Who aren’t, like us, as blessed

With supper done and baths and hugs
The children go to bed
The man and wife alone at last
Reflect on what they have


Its 2am on Christmas day
And over that old bridge
The morning freight
Comes rumbling past
And shakes that icy ridge


Beneath the bridge the fire is out
The snow had washed it down
And underneath the snow and ice
A cowboy has gone home

©Pony 1989
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JuniorAfro
14 years ago
Pony, good poem. But its depressing. He was buried in his sleep under the packed ice, that covered him that night correct? And you had to identify the body?
0
Pony
14 years ago
Yup And if you think that was depressing. Wait you are going to hate the next one LOL
0
Pony
14 years ago
The continuing Saga of The McCarrys

After Rick Disappeared Frank and Nette had on one to leave the ranch (no Kids). So when they got too old they sold it They bought this little house in Dixon and lived there
I will tell you how they died later

Frank and Nette
Spoiler:


Frank and Nette

They were married 50 years
This cowboy and his bride
They never spent a night apart
Together side by side

He left to feed and clean and mow
She went to clean and cook and sew
And though apart from dawn to dark
She hovered in his mind

As she for him it seemed to be
She stood there at his side
Two hearts one soul the poets say
And yet it seemed more true
One heart one soul is what they had
This Cowboy and his bride

This cowboy not too good at words
Or deeds if truth be told
She must have seen what no one saw
Together they grew old

She looks at him through dimming eyes
And smiles her secret smile
She knows he loves her in his heart
As she loves him just the same

For Cowboys aren’t good it seems
At saying what they feel
I think that they expect you all to know
And that the feelings real

Her hands are gnarled
Her skin is red
From working by his side
Her hair more gray than brown
The best he does to show his love
Is look at her with his soft look
As if she wore a Crown

He doesn’t see the twisted hands
The skin no longer fair
He doesn’t see that all the Gray
Has come from all the years

The girl he sees is just the same
As at the Grange they danced



Cause in his mind this bride of his
Has never changed at all
She still is young and bright and gay
As when he first laid eyes
Upon the one who stole his heart
That dance one winters day

For 50 years they lived the life
and stood beside as man and wife
and when their maker called them home
They went together, not alone
©Pony MM
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Nekohime
14 years ago
Pony wrote...
Yeah Jr a few
Here is one.
More later.

Spoiler:

THE LUMP

I woke up this morning as numb as an oaf
For there by my knee was a lump like a loaf

A Tumor? A swelling? From injury unknown?
I feared for to touch it. This something new grown

Finally, with fingers trembling with fear,
I lifted the quilt and what did I hear?

“Meow Meow now please go away
I’m sleeping you see for it is just day”

“In case you’ve forgotten sir this is MY bed
Why don’t you lay on that old couch instead?

“YOUR bed indeed” I said to the lump
Now you can sleep on the floor on your rump

And then I got up and thought with a Harrumph
Why am I having a debate with a lump?”

The answer my friends is simple you see
That lump in my bed is smarter than me

© Pony MM


I love it! That is pretty much me and my grey pussy in the morning.

+rep to you sir!
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JuniorAfro
14 years ago
That one almost brought me to tears...its not depressing in a sense...but its way of seeing how it flowed and told the love of two old, man and wife, young and old.
0
Pony
14 years ago
Nothing to be ashamed of JR It brings me to tears every time I read it
This one is a little lighter

AN ODE TO MY FATHER
Spoiler:

AN ODE TO MY FATHER


When I was four, and I'm not any more,
and my brother was really quite wee,
the Great War ended and as right intended,
my Father came back to me.

He was broken and weary,
both spirit and body,
were wounded by war and its hate,
He cried in his sleep,
and when we heard him weep,
we wondered ---and misunderstood.

In time all wounds heal and you're whole
through and through,
and he laughed for the first time in years
he said to his sons "I've a present for you"
'tis the gift of the word and the deed

True to his promise, he showered upon us
the presents of poem and prose,
of song and of legend,
of fable, and history
of love and of hate and of life

Because we were young
and unfettered of tongue
we thought of his poems as trite
we let then fall fallow
and forgot them (We thought)
but our memories kept the idea


We listened and heard but like mist from the dawn
the words and their lessons were scattered
and now that I've grown and have sons of my own
how I wish I had heard what did matter

My father passed on after eighty some years
and since then I have tried to recall
not the words but the poems
and the stories that told us lifes all

For the words I have learned
From life's bitter school
Tiz the poetry made it OK
To Know your afraid and go on anyway
And to Win when the battle goes wrong

The point of all this and don't be misled
Is a tribute to Dad and his spirit
I miss him a lot but remember its what
You are, and you do, that remains

For when he would read of Service and deed
Of "Quitters and how to prevail
The stories and tales of the Yukon and Whales
Of Jabberwocks and Slithys and toads
Entertained us but taught us as well

Once Long ago he read us a poem
And recorded it too on a wire
My brother and I both remember the poem
But just how it goes has expired
[size=12]©[/h] PONY MMI

A few days ago I was talking to someone (Remember this was 2001)
And mentioned that part of the poem
That was still engrained in the part of my brain
Where the pieces and bits are saved

Which led to yet another poem ahaahahaha

I told her the name of the poem I craved
And she found it by searching the tomes

She called up her Mom who called on a friend
Who knew just exactly the place
That the poem I sought and searched for, for naught
Was stored and evermore saved

She searched and she searched for a copy of it
And Finally, Filled with success
Sent it to me in the text of an "E"
And for this she is Evermore Blessed
My everlasting thanks to our own Chris aka LDRS WPLC 4flts R.I.P.

The Poem is:

Mr. Nobody (author unknown)

I know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse,
Who does the mischief that is done
In everybody's house!
There's no one ever sees his face,
And yet we all agree
That every plate we break was cracked
By Mr. Nobody.

'Tis he who always tears our books,
Who leaves the door ajar,
He pulls the buttons from our shirts,
And scatters pins afar;
That squeaking door will always squeak
For, prithee, don't you see,
We leave the oiling to be done
By Mr. Nobody.

He puts damp wood upon the fire,
That kettles cannot boil;
His are the feet that bring in mud,
And all the carpets soil.

The papers always are mislaid,
Who had them last but he?
There's no one tosses them about
But Mr. Nobody.

The finger-marks upon the door
By none of us are made;
We never leave the blinds unclosed,
To let the curtains fade.
The ink we never spill, the boots
That lying round you see
Are not our boots; they all belong
To Mr. Nobody.
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Pony
14 years ago
One last poem today then I am going to go rest my eye
This one was written by me for a navy nurse named Annie
back from Vietnam after being captured raped and beaten she always slept with a knife under her pillow
She finally found the man who she could trust enough to put the knife away.
We were talking one evening out on the helipad and she mentioned the real regret she had in life was not being able to tell her husband how much he meant to her
I said
OK I will write a poem that will tell him for you
I will even put your name on it
Here it is
You are my heart
Spoiler:


You are my heart The one long lost
Those many years ago, In fields of rice
On foreign soil, torn and ripped apart
Like chaff from wheat or bits of dust
Twas all that I had left except for hope
That one day, my love. someone would give me rest

We met that day upon a ship that tossed from
Oceans waves. We spoke and touched and
All at once I found my heart again
I fought you love we both know that
And yet that isn't true, for what I fought
If truth be told was all my love for you

These words come hard and slow you see
For telling you your worth to me
Is easier done in passions wrath
With fire and force and words that slap
But know my love in all this world
No words I know nor hope to learn
Can even start to say to you
" You Are My heart"
© MMII Annie
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JuniorAfro
14 years ago
Really touching and real down to earth. Pony, you are good! Keep writing. Looking for more!
0
Pony
14 years ago
Here we go
one serious
one whimsy
one for my Kate

Fall
Spoiler:






Do you know why they call it “fall”
The reason’s simple plain to all
While sitting on my porch today
The answer came as clear as day

The trees unlike all those back home
Make changes as the seasons roam
In winter time they’re bleak and bare
Stark naked branches fill the air

Springtime is the new awakening
The sap in trees are hot and quickening
Green buds arrive to great the day
Making the season bright and gay

And summer time is here so fast
With thunderstorms that roar and blast
And fireflies light up the night
In counterpoint to lightening fright

The trees and ground are colored so bright
You can see them clearly even at night
With greens and blues and reds just shout
And wildflowers spring up all about

Then Fall arrives and life slows down
Preparing the trees for winters crown
For freezing rain and falling snow
Cold sky above cold earth below

I sat here on my soon to be
Stark front yard with ageing trees
And watched the leaves once oh so bright
Turn brown and yellow against the night

And then the wind came from the north
A gentle breeze not of not much worth
But just enough to make the leaves
Tremble up against the eaves

By one’s or two’s the tree would leave
Announcing soon the time to grieve
The end of summer gone so soon
If it were a day it would be noon

And when the wind comes with a rush
And rain falls gently making mush
The leaves will “Fall” and touch the ground
Wafting gently with no sound

Making a blanket of gold and red
With yellow thrown in like a feather bed
A Crazy quilt covers the land
Reminding us that in the end

Then overnight a stark white sheet
Covers the earth as winter we meet
Then after winter starts again
And spring arrives. Its natures plan


© PONY MMIII


Something
Spoiler:

I have something to tell you

Sometimes at night when we †˜re alone
I sit and watch you, Did you know?
The way you slowly move
The turning of your face
That secret smile you have
When a thought runs through your mind

I look at you through shaded eyes
And I am filled it seems
with feelings unrestrained
Of love of joy of pure delight
so great its almost pain

You turn towards me and close your eyes
then open them and smile
I know this is your private way
of waiting for a while
Your going to speak of this I'm sure
its how you always start
to tell me what is on your mind
and what is in your heart

You walk to me and touch my arm
your touch is warm and soft
You say "You know" and kiss my cheek
you've done it more than oft

Then say "its late, now come to bed"
so up the stairs we trod
I know I’ll have you here with me
till both we rest beneath the sod

©Pony mcmxcix



For Capt Paul A.
Spoiler:

He rises up this Captain weak

And turns to you as if to speak

The effort show upon his face

He’s given up on this last race


“Lay down your arms,

Your weapons brave.

Still the battle cries

Your strength to save


There will not be another fight

The cause is lost

We have not won

And say to me a last “good night”


Go home my warriors, friends as well

To home and hearth and kin

Remember me not as I am

But as I was back then


There will be no battle

No great last rush

No charge to meet

Just evenings hush



There is no war

No ramparts breached

No blood nor scars

Just a quiet peace

There is no need

My friends you see?

There is no Prize”

So let it be

Dedicated to the late Capt Paul Adlesic U.S.M.C. R.I.P. Warrior

©Pony mcmxcix

[/spoil]
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Circe
14 years ago
I wish I had a meaningful critique to add, but I'm no poetry expert (that's my sister's department) and I can only tell you my feelings ^^;

I really like the "Something" one, maybe because I thought it started off really playful and slowly turned into something more romantic and deep. I relate to it on a personal level, which I guess is what draws people to poems they like.

I also really like "Fall" because so many people see Fall and Winter as horrible times of the year, but they are just as beautiful and part of nature as Spring and Summer. I thought you described really well the "beauty in this nature's death".

That's all I have for now, but great job so far. I will make time to read the rest as well.

Are you a published author, Pony? ^^ ❤
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bletok
14 years ago
oh my, i love your poems pony.. I'll follow this thread from now on..
0
Pony
14 years ago
Circe wrote...
I wish I had a meaningful critique to add, but I'm no poetry expert (that's my sister's department) and I can only tell you my feelings ^^;

I really like the "Something" one, maybe because I thought it started off really playful and slowly turned into something more romantic and deep. I relate to it on a personal level, which I guess is what draws people to poems they like.

I also really like "Fall" because so many people see Fall and Winter as horrible times of the year, but they are just as beautiful and part of nature as Spring and Summer. I thought you described really well the "beauty in this nature's death".

That's all I have for now, but great job so far. I will make time to read the rest as well.

Are you a published author, Pony? ^^ ❤


Yes In the sense that my work has been printed I am a member of 3 different poetry societies and the cowboy poets of America all but the one for Annie Have been printed in one of those groups
As far as going to a publisher NO. Poetry is my pleasure. I have no wish to make it into work
I have found in an old box, I have been dragging around forever, a stack of poems my dad wrote in high school and college. All on old yellow paper and the later ones typed on what is probably the oldest typewriter ever made.
I am going to go through them and see if there are any you all might like
The folder is called "Pater of Rein" Rein being our last name and are about his family and life.

Thank you for your critique Circe. That I touched your feelings is, to me, what poetry is about.
0
Pony
14 years ago
bletok wrote...
oh my, i love your poems pony.. I'll follow this thread from now on..


Thank you Bletok. Knowing that someone likes what I write gives me great pleasure
0
Pony
14 years ago
JuniorAfro wrote...
Really touching and real down to earth. Pony, you are good! Keep writing. Looking for more!


Jun Talking about words painting a picture
Your new sig paints one hell of a pic
0
Pony
14 years ago
This offering if you will is sort of different
It has some poetry in it
some reflection
some rambling
But in a sense it is history and what molded me into what I am for better or worse
Please read it and give me some feedback
Thanks
Pony

Spoiler:

I have this year 2010 reached the biblical span of 3 score and 10 (plus one)
I thought it might be interesting to reflect on what I have seen and done in those years
Some of it rhymes but mostly rambling and free verse. I would appreciate your input




On reflection

Threescore and ten I can remember well:
Within the volume of which time I have seen
Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night
Hath trifled former knowings. (W. Shakespeare Macbeth)


Youth
Life as a boy was easy and pretty
Air was clean
Sex was dirty
Boys were pals
Girls a pain
I think I would like to try it again

Terror was Halloween
Flash Gordons evil queen
Superman and Dracula
They were both spectacular

Movies
$.20 for the movie $.10 for med popcorn
Or small popcorn and a candy bar
Bambi (I cried)
Serials (Kind of like soap operas)
Every Saturday there would be
another chapter with a cliffhanger
ending.
Cartoons between each feature movie
The Sorcerers apprentice ( I hid under the seat after
the first 10 minutes LOL)
A drawing by the theater owner for a comic
book based on your ticket number.

Work was helping dad mow
Taking out the garbage
Bringing in the milk from the porch

Play was stick ball
Hide and seek
Dodge ball
Tag
During the summer
Running through the hose
(Sprinklers? Wazzat?)
The Plunge ( 6 inches of water about 40 x40)

Entertainment
Listening to Dad read to us
Sitting in front of the radio
Listening to
The Shadow
The Cisco kid
Green lantern
And on Sundays
Puck the comic weekly (a radio program where a man read and described the Sunday comics) I learned later in life it was a special program nationwide for blind children put on by the Braille Institute

Adolescence
The advent of Television
We had 3 channels ( a new word by the way. Used to be radio stations)
Howdy Doody
Kuckla Fran and Ollie
You have to watch this
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bZxSbjhBFRs
Cisco Kid
Lone Ranger
Sky King
Sgt Preston of the Yukon
Braces (“I am never ever going to smile again so help me god”)
Girls were less of a pain
So we would show off to attract their attention
Girls vying for the little red tag on your Levi’s
Sweaty palms ( a disease caused by trying to talk to girls)
Flat top haircuts
Butch wax

Early teens
Boys

Peggers 1950s; peggers. ( n ) Pants tapering to a narrow opening at the cuff.
Tassel mocs
Penny loafers
White tee shirts
Duck tail hairdos
Pomade
Black pegged dress pants
Black dress shirts w/pink tie
Pink dress shirts with black tie
REALLY skinny belts
White socks
Argyle socks to match shirt
Zits
Two voices one high one low
Usually appearing at the worst moment

Girls

Poodle skirts
White blouses
Cashmere sweaters
Mary Janes
Breasts hips long hair and giggles
All appearing at the same time

Early adulthood
Double dating (whew)
First car (mine was a 1950 Ford “business coupe No back seat)
Dad, Mr Beagle and I worked on it one whole summer
Finished it had a hand rubbed powder blue lacquer finish
Pin stripes
Quad carb
Dual exhaust
Fuzzy dice
And little tiny foot prints across the dash hand painted by mom
Gas was $.19.9 a gallon cost $2.00 to fill it
First job Not counting the paper route
An auto accessory story Rallins Custom Auto
First real girlfriend
Meeting girlfriends parents
First real heartbreak

Adulthood
Military
Best described as days, weeks, months, and years of absolute boredom.
Interspersed by moments of stark terror and fear
The rest is pretty boring
Which I suppose is a good thing
0
Pony
14 years ago
OK a lot going on IRL right now

But I found this one that struck a chord
I could have named it
"Mother waiting for her child to die"
but that is too morbid for a title
Even for me.
But that is what it is about

Spoiler:

Mother and child

She sits alone at night
: Staring at a screen
: her eyes unfocused but alert
: at words and what they mean
her minds away off on a trip
: and in another room
her ears attuned to every sound

That emanates from the womb
Her child is sick but sleeping now
: and yet all night she'll stare
at empty words, a blurry screen
seeing only the end of a dream
© Pony MM
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