Ace Cannons' Canon

ACE CANNONS' CANON 

Through the morning, shimmering with colors that wavering, fade
from a desert where heat is a hue, and history's due
cactus and trees, knotted and sparse, a portrait some mad god must'f bade
into being, into the "Otherwise Sane"; set apart from the world, lived in by you

dust lays 'pon the ground, puffs upwards with resentful complaint
as my mount plods onwards towards some tumbled town
Town? 
a few homes, in a land where grown men could grow faint
weary, thirsty, sweat-soaked; riding, walking, falling, down

down...
town

Ace Cannon's my name, should anyone ask
you may have heard, or you may not
at times that's quite a task
as i'm found wherever battles are fought

and those who stay behind
are often quite dead
they thought, or they didn't, or dint really mind
that those men who pushed, cursed, threatened with lead

disrespected ladies, dint tip their hat, just hawked and spat
raped, robbed or rustled, or horsethieved from towns
and thought to back down the good folks with that
more often than not, were buried with smiles,
 'stead o' frowns    

i'm a gunslinger, in the olde sense of the word
a hard man, a good man, a gunman, driftin' along
light as a feather, fast as a bird
i enjoy playing, Guns' melodious song

"abandon all hope,all ye who hear,
with nary a sound to accompany fear. 
the blackbirds are singing, as i draw near;
the tumbleweeds roll, as leather i'll clear"

a few townsfolk stroll from home to store
a few, even this early, stagger from saloons to squint
as at last, i ride past houses, where happy people live poor
 knowing each other, when last year they dint

a traveler, through beauty and badland
worthy of trust, friend of strangers in need
dangerous at times, yet loyal to brand
the code of the west, that noblest breed

a stranger, hatbrim pulled low, all dust and sweat
a horse noble as Knighthood, and muscled in trailwornest tan
this was "the West", that hadn't quite yet
met the Man

Ace Cannon
-esquire-
Copyright © | Year Posted 2010

Poem

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Shango Avatar
February 7, 2010 at 10:32 AM
A lyrical ballad that recovers the saxophone's mystic melody, and the reprise of history. Well done.
Freeman Avatar
February 6, 2010 at 9:56 AM
Solomon, congratulations on your poem being featured this week. Sincerely, Moses
Fisher Avatar
February 2, 2010 at 11:50 AM
Many congrats on your featured piece. Rgds Janette
Fraser Avatar
February 1, 2010 at 1:49 PM
Many congratulations on your poetry being featured this week >> James
Rich Avatar
February 1, 2010 at 5:41 AM
Contrats to you on being featured by PoetrySoup this week. Keep pen and paper on hand & never say never! AR
Brown Avatar
February 1, 2010 at 4:33 AM
Congratulations on your featured poetry this week Solomon. May you have many more. Love, Carol
Culverhouse Avatar
January 31, 2010 at 5:45 PM
very nicely penned congrats on the feature poem!!
 Avatar
January 31, 2010 at 5:25 PM
Nice way to share this story. Congratulations on having your poem featured. Keep on writing! Wishing you continued success. Karen
Smith-Johnsen Avatar
January 31, 2010 at 3:01 PM
Solomon, I enjoyed the story and the way it was told. Very nice prose poetry. I think it would also fit the description of the poetry form: Cowboy, but I'm not sure. At any rate. I give it an "A" Smiles, Dane Ann
Owens Avatar
January 15, 2010 at 9:47 PM
Very nice poem...Enjoyed reading tonight...Marty
Brown Avatar
January 14, 2010 at 4:51 AM
I have enjoyed reading your excellent poetry today Solomon. May you have a wonderful day filled with inspiration. Love, Carol
Austin Avatar
January 13, 2010 at 12:34 PM
Howdy, Ace. Enjoyed your western. About the "What is Love." A read of "The Naked Man" is probably prerequisite, but then you'll, I'm sorry to say, have to use your imagination. daver
Devonshire Avatar
January 13, 2010 at 10:52 AM
Was Ace a real person, Solomon? You sure bring his gunslinging days to life in this enjoyable write. Nice work! Love, Carolyn
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