Best Riderless Poems

By the side of the loch some boys at play, when into their midst there came
A beautiful white and riderless horse with a long and...

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Our great Balboa has left the hillock bare
And two waters converge in evening mist
Where from our vision he made us stare
As the divided dimensions rose...

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I wear a veil of iron mesh,
it sheilds me from sensation,
it's like the one that Jackie wore
after Jack's assassination.

I was just a youngster then,
but, deep...

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I was driving home in my Pick-up
When I saw something Strange…
… a Cowboy Sat atop His Horse
Calling Someone’s Name

He trotted on the Moonlit Trail
The man’s...

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A riderless mount tripped along the ties
and disappeared into the haze of gun and blaze.
Bloody ghosts drifted unseen
swallowed by the dirty dusk and
speared by silhouettes...

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It was a night so dark, so damp; the fog swirled thick about the lamp,
a night not fit for man or beast, a night on...

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The Horse Nebula
rises from flames, forged
from Milky Way core.
Saturn flanks his right,
Jupiter his left --
Gods girded for war.

Lightning bolts whistle
above the red glare
for all to...

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Not begging, 
for a native dream; 
hiding an ocean in the eyes.

The hills were trembling. 
I am going to cross the river, 
of flames.

I am...

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Hey, hunker down in the bone orchard, chick,
Hear the wind blowing hard and the magazine click,
Feel the reins soaking wet with the blood of the...

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A sojourner,  I cross the years to look
   sliding pass the history books
and read while listening.

Stepping through time, moments of tenacity finds
...

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Old Harve woke up in a cold sweat that day
And he’s never been the same—
He dreamt of a Veteran’s Day parade
Where no other people came.

There...

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Charge boldly charge
No quarter asked
From the valley
They stormed
An enemy 
Struck
As blood
A sideways rain
Blinding those
Left afoot
With horses
Shot
A hill to be
Taken
No more reason
Than that
Dead Captain
Face down
His riderless...

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The horse – a creature of blind passion – pawed
The earth beside the silent fallen form
A digger of graves more noble and more odd
Than ever...

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it is often said, love is blue
a poor anodyne for crushed hearts
pity them dearly that after years
they fail to understand
the mirror holds the cynosure
they truly...

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Somebody should start digging,
a big hole, we need a big hole.

Big enough for 300 babies, 300 children,
300 young women,
300 old women
300 fighting men, 300 just...

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