Horseless Poems | Examples

Escaping Death

Escaping Death

(written in a mental hospital) 

I escaped from Death today, 
And I don't know what to think. 
Because when Death comes round and round, 
you start to feel his scent and stink. 
There are others counting on me now.
I can't let them down, this I know. 
So close to Death and yet, so certain-
now I'm back to life, if just a little while 
to finally pull back the curtain. 

Still others only see- the ghost 
that walks these halls forbidden. 
I don't know how to talk to them, 
the horseless carriage is hidden. 
My pen feels broken, 
still it flies against the page once more. 
Swirling new tales in ink and bone. 
Yet my ghost, she still sings for home. 

Morality and death
hang over me. 
Still, I'm used to these things. 
I try to speed up the hour I'm closest to hell. 
But as I creep ever slow, 
the witch rings her last bell. 

You can only listen to a cd once, 
then the magic is gone. 
But it still lingers in your ears, 
in the mind and in heaven
their voices still ring on.

Let There Be Limericks: Two For Halloween 2022

Dinner Date or Date for Dinner?
When the harvest moon is full and bright,
And the wolf bane blooms on an autumn night,
If the guy whose kiss used to make you swoon
Starts to lick his lips and howl at the moon,
You'd best decline if he asks you out for a bite.

A Midlands Urban Legend
A village somewhere in the Midlands
Was harassed by a bodiless dead man,
But sans charger or steed,
How could they, indeed,
Be afraid of a lone horseless headman?

The Land

A sinewy faith built rough cabins.
We were pleased to claim this land
for Jesus.

We raised cities that were bear free.
Everything soared;
later crime and meth rose even 
higher.

Cracks appeared where a garish paint 
had weathered the sky.
Plaster flamingos crumbled,
angelic limbs hung down
caught in ceiling fissures.
Pink plastic arrows littered concrete.
It was a Mall dream; it was our dream.

We began to order stuff
from worker ants in other countries.
Plaid went in and out of fashion,
Horseless cowboys kept up the long tradition
of truck wrangling.

Impedimenta impeded the improperly taught.
Log cabins transported themselves
to theme parks,
too little hope clogged casinos floors,
rage stalked the freeways.

God spoke to us,
urged us to fill storage units
with our long raked-over crap,
sad holy relics in duct taped boxes -
yet neatly piled
in a persnickety Midwest way.

To Harness the Wind

I rode the emotion like a horse
  until the shoes fell off one by one

Leaving me silent and alone

A horseless prophet on the raging sands
—desperately trying to harness the wind

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

Madame Caillaux, Part 5 of 7

(The husband of Henriette is in a casino, playing
roulette, and not especially concerned about her
plight.  The Hotel Dieux is a hospital alongside
Notre Dame Cathedral, in downtown Paris.)


5. Joseph Caillaux

When? The chips are down. This is a marriage,
this black and red. Rien ne va plus, he said!
Let's go! We came here in a horseless carriage,
tonight we'll have the sidewalk for a bed.

(My little joke.) What's that you say, mon vieux?
The Tax Bill? That's how politicians play it.
(This wheel will put me in the Hôtel Dieu!)
A private confidence -- you don't betray it.

A public face (it can't be otherwise)
is oftentimes at variance with the private.
But Calmette's type are sneakers, peekers, spies,
would wreck a man (and frequently contrive it!)

Mon brave, I'm not the man to fight a duel.
You risk your life, your health, or prosecution --
for what? You lose, you're dead. You win, you fuel
the anger of your foes. It's no solution.

She said she would. (I'll spin, and win for us!)
I've long since left off thinking of it. (Thus!)

Horseless Carriage

Horseless Carriage

We have reined the mind
“blindered” sight
hobbled with restraints
a voiceless choir
led the thirst-less
to un-quenching waters
muted the joyous roar
of truth’s waterfall


9/29/2016

Vehicle Island

Vehicle Island 

While the owners of parked cars at the seaside 
sat in overcrowded restaurants and was served
by sweat dripping waiters the cars started and
drove in a neat formation into the sea.
A mass suicide that lit up the sea for hours, but
more cars came and they became an island 
and when there were no more cars left, motorbikes
were used as top soil. 
Up from this mess grew traffic cones filling the space 
with stop signs and pelican crossings.
A bike, a fortune for a bike, the moneyed class said 
and there were the street fights; “it is my bike no I saw it first”
the veneer of civility broke down.
When the populace stole the horses of the Gypsies
undelaying social hatred broke out; it was their right
to steal to defend their country and the Gypsies 
horseless now had to live behind tall walls this because
prisoners don’t need cars.

Le Petit Bistrot

Le Petit Bistrot
I write about
is not in Montpellier.

It's somewhere else
in southern France
and tries hard to marvel me.

It's tightly jammed
in horseless street,
for who would bring the horses?

They're on the menu,
or I'll be damned.
Yes - dish at number four.

And look, for sweet
is Bon Soufflé.
I think I'll ask for more.





9/28/2015

Lessons On Head Containment

Lessons on Head Containment

People lose their heads
It’s what they do 
And should it happen to you
Someone could use it for bowling
Let us pray for containment
Generally and specifically speaking
It is advised
Don’t be born
At the time of the guillotine
Or be of any political persuasion
From that
Or any other era or period in time
Though guillotine is
The great weight loss program
(“2 pounds off the top please!”)
Keep your head with you at all times
When going for a walk
Place your left hand firmly
Over the left side of the head
Place right hand on right of head
And do not prance
Do not look at the sun
It’s already compromised
Decapitated 
Removed from other celestial bodies
If someone chases you with an ax
Run…. (Aspirins won’t help)
Bring a bread sized basket with you
If something should happen
Avoid the cost or loss of head containment
Soak it in cool water
Hide your head under covers
From headless horsemen
Or is it horseless headmen?
Beware of pigmies with their stitches
Try not to dangle in the wind by rope
It makes you look silly & dopy or worse 
….. Dead….
If all else fails
Go gambling but
Don’t lose your head

Salami For a Horse

Salami for a Horse. 
Driving home from the man whose profession 
is to study people´s entrails, rice pudding he
had said and no booze- and for this banality 
he charged me 80 euros; the car stopped and
I opened the back door- of the car- and let out
my horse. It is a small horse my feet reached 
the ground and I helped the horse by walking
too- sitting. Nearing home it galloped which 
was painful for my ankles.  
Stabled it on the veranda, but as I had no hay 
it eat the wicker chair, which displeased my cat 
that used to sleep in it.  Morning, the horse was 
on the road the cat sat on top of it dressed as 
a musketeer, looking like Tony Bandera, the cat 
swung its hat the horse neighed; I opened a tin 
of low fat rice pudding, - had wanted salami 
on warm loaf with butter- rang for a tow- truck 
and horseless began walking to the car.

Late Night Movies

Late Night Movies. 

I wear denim trousers and matching jacket in winters, this because 
I always wanted to be a cowboy, the simple life, what can be simpler 
than herding cows. I can’t afford to buy a horse, but nearly bought 
a donkey once, I have no stable and couldn’t leave it indoors you
can’t toilet train donkeys. Oddly enough, once upon a time my living 
room was a stable; a pile of manure was the first that greeted me 
when I bought the dwelling. Time moves on there are no beasts of 
burden left, only tractors litter the landscape and the good smell of 
sweat animals has been replaced by diesel fumes .I wouldn’t mind 
being a monk though especially now that my sexual drive is in a steep 
decline, but I’m not ascetic or contemplative enough to fit in. So I’ll 
stick to being a horseless cowboy while trying to walk like john Wayne 
and  watch late night western movies.

Where Are the Horses ?

WHERE ARE THE HORSES ?


Sound of hooves, rattle of harness -
Our world is suddenly horseless.
Where have all the horses gone?
And men selling  the ice-cream  cone,   
Or rag-and-bone,  or  pop,  or coals?
All  identified  by songs, or calls, 
Whistles, and how-do-you-do.
Their  horses identified  too  -
They  left  manure in every lane.
They stopped without  bit or rein
And knew every street and gate.
While he sold ice cream they too ate -
Nosebags  thrown back -   oats on tongue.
Brown,  black,  white, old,  young
Horses gone,  men gone.  Is life improved?  
To bring them back we’re all behooved .

Ticket Please

Once again here I stand
No violins or marching bands
Among the confusion in which I live
A large parade in my name they give
How my mind goes spinning to the ground
Watching the horseless merry go round
I know that they are speaking to me
And can almost hear them say "ticket please"
So I reach into the open space
And upon the counter my heart I place
Entering into the rod iron gates
I realize to turn back it's much too late
And so I move to the music in time
Knowing all that appears so elegantly to rhyme
Is nothing more than what it is
And has nothing to do with inner bliss
There was a sinking feeling within myself
As I watched them place my ticket upon the shelf

1985

A Season For Change

When the final Autumn leaf spirals to the ground,
and a warm Chinook breeze is no longer found.
Bears retreat to their seasonal slumber,
as snowflakes approach in abundant numbers.
Mother Nature steps down from her post.
As old man Winter prepares as new host.
A starving North wind arrives in his horseless carriage,
preparing to join hearts with the Earth in marriage.
Thus for many eve's they shall bind in wedlock.
Till Spring rises from the shadows to create a new flock.

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