Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2013
I can remember that day…like it was just yesterday. The pain inside, was too much to
bear. As they lowered you in the ground, my world came a crashing down. No more
would I ever see your radiant smile. That day is still a blur…as I drank the night away.
Hoping it was all just a dream? But, reality came around and my emotions broke me
down…and it all came a crashing down. It took me by surprise as those tears filled my
eyes. My drink became a salty river of tears…I can still hear the Reverends last words
as he commended your body to the earth. I was around town feeling sorry for myself,
my emotions were coming down…I could still he his words as he commended you to the
earth, but my heart couldn’t let you go. As they held me back from jumping in your
grave…the emotions started to fill my soul, I was around town feeling so sorry for
myself. Try to drown my pain with whiskey and beer…but those emotions came a
tumbling down. As my drink became a salty river of tears, no more…no more…would I
ever hear your laughter, that seemed as though it could fill the ever after. Later that
night as I lay down to sleep, I reached over to that empty spot where you use to be…I
swear I could almost hear you say, “ Dry your tears, someday we will be back together
as we laugh together in this life here after…so weep no more. I’ll see you on the other
side.” As I closed my eyes, the pain began to subside…I knew one day soon I’d get to
see your radiant smile and hear your laughter.
Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor | Year Posted 2011
THE STARGAZER'S RIDE
(or THE LAST SPURRING LICK)
Saddle shoulder-tossed like feather light
Aging cowboy strutted for the crowds
The throngs that mingled in his mind
From past glory, cheering loud.
Across his shoulder down his back
Leather mended with great care
Oiled and rubbed with tender hands
A woman never stirred such love.
Excitement scuttled--- colors blazed---
whooping kids these afternoons—
Livestock stirr and kicked the stalls
inhaling echo pumped excitement’s blur—
Colors mixed with fear and joy
Set the boldest man on edge
Broken bones mere memories--
Blotted out behind the thrills
That bucked behind the unknown stalls.
A sudden certainty grabbed him
As real as bucking in the stalls
His breath still strong and stalwart sure
The sounds and colors shimmered on
Visions flashed from death to glory
Called to thrills that grind the soul.
He'd had his fill of limps and aches
No delights in growing old .
Today he'd end his life on fire
A rank Star gazer sucking back
His time the best—tho body crushed
He’d give this crowd a shattering crack
spurring lick--the movement of a cowboy's feet
Rank—hard animal to ride
Star gazer- animal that bucks with his head up
Suck back: animal that suddenly switches direction
Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2013
I thought that
You will think ki not be
Back , form your life
How to tell how much I love you
With love to all
Copyright © jagdish bajantri | Year Posted 2016
His bones have been to hell and back his body's gouged and rough
His chaps they sit upon his legs as he does each buckle up
He feels the pain in his neck and back from every ride he missed
And the memory of every girl he never should have kissed
His ridin days are growin short as he pulls his hat down tight
His bronc sits in the steel chute as he's got a ride tonight
His legs are bruised and tattered his boots are scuffed and worn
He's waitin for a chance to feel that massive horse's scorn
His knees creek and crack with pain as he climbs that steel chute
The bronc stands tall and waivers none he knows that she won't spook
His saddle slides onto her back just like it always does
The flank is slid underneath her gut with that skinny belt of fuzz
He knows exactly what to do but his mind is in his pain
All he can think is it's a young man's sport as he grabs a hold of the rein
but he knows deep down that they don't see the heart of a younger man
So he grabs his stirrups and nods his head and he's off to the promise land
All they seen was a beat up old man whose prime had all but passed
His ridin days were done and gone and all the riders laughed
But he stands tall and has a laugh at there expense this time
Because he's the one with the 87 and there at the back of the line
Copyright © William Retzleff | Year Posted 2007
When the Anders Gang came to Pitkin’s place,
Bent on murder, theft, and rape,
Amongst them rode a wanted man,
Known to the world as Chicago Sam.
He rode behind, guarding the rear
While the other dozen visited fear
Upon a family, old and young,
Doing everything to them under the sun.
For two hours until the neighbors came,
A horror on those folks was rained.
Until finally Anders heard the hooves
Of angry men racing to where they stood.
Anders gave a call, and they mounted all
And road away away towards mountains tall.
Though Sam hesitated and looked down
To a teenage girl laying on the ground.
Still alive somehow, though barely so
Her tattered clothes heaped in nearby shadow.
Her face was swollen, but Sam, he swore
That he looked into the face of sweet Glenore.
He shook his head and galloped away,
What he imagined there could never be.
Glenore was dead, and twice the age
Of the girl that he left there in pain.
But in the days to come, it nagged at him,
His last true memory free of sin.
The sight of his lost love lingered long,
And the memory of her voice, lifted in song.
It wasn’t his fault, what she did choose.
By her own had did her life she loose!
She should’ve seen then what he was,
A gambling life who lived life rough!
The mistakes had been hers to make,
To think his sins could be loved away.
If she’d only gotten that through her head,
She’d still be here, she’d be not dead.
He told himself this, over and over,
But kept seeing her image more.
He saw the sadness mar her sweet face
When with another he had laid.
He saw her body, so small and cold,
And reheard the words the marshal told,
The psalms of reverends at the end,
With all this weight did Sam content.
One night while he stood on watch,
He looked back on the sleeping flock
Of murderers, thieves, and rustler scum,
And though back upon all he’d done...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2017
...The next day’s sun a posse brought.
By noon all the Anders Gang was shot,
Except for one, no longer there,
The path to their place, Sam had lain bare.
In exchange for this they let him go,
And give him on thousand in gold.
But he did not rush to spend the haul,
In fact he didn’t spend it, not at all.
Instead he rode to the home of Bud Fielding,
Where the poor Pitkin’s girl was recovering.
Fielding walked out, with his rifle drawn
“Ride on filth!”the good man warned.
But Sam he just held up his hands,
Saying,”I come here to kill no man.
I came here to, in some small way,
Make up for what happened that day.”
The girl limped out, her eyes afire
Chicago Sam then felt old, and tired.
He took his gold-pouch off his belt,
And at the feet of the girl it fell.
He said,”You remind me of a girl, back when
I was something of a better man.
That money won’t fix a shattered heart,
But at least you can make a new start.
“I do not expect you to forgive,
The things me and my comrades did.
But I’m here today to even the score,
For you and the memory of Glenore.”
The girl looked on through swollen eyes,
His purpose still, she did not realize.
He sighed and said to her,”I’m sorry.
That I ever caused you pain or worry.”
Those were the last words that he said,
Then he placed his pistol by his head.
Twas the only way to make good, he figured,
So he took a breath, then squeezed the trigger.
Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2017