Friday, July 10, 2015

Appaloosa Moon

Appaloosa Moon

You rode in from Calgary on
the appaloosa moon, all in white
above her speckled flanks;
another cosmic cowboy
looking for a decent rodeo clown.

You took my hand.
put it on your silver buckle.
I felt the corded muscle;
did my best
to dismiss the hat.

You were  sweet as margaritas,
flying god and sinking singer
at stud, a three-time winner
with a kick like
a government mule.

Some (not I)
might think you thicker
than a jug of home-brewed liquor,
but you had your existential
quandaries just the same.

I got it, alright,
you sometimes mumbled
slipping off my bridle, 
whispering in my wind-swished hair,
but it ain't consistent.

Nothing is, I said,
somewhat hampered by
the texture of your
soft-breathed reaching nuzzle,

hellfire and this hot-ass summer,
and they're not much use at all. 
And so I held you trembling
till the bell rang, the chute-gate banged, 
and the moon put her head down

while you laughed in the rain:
a horse, you told me, won't buck if it's in pain.

~July 2015

posted for    real toads

Ella ( Ella's Edge
asks us to reflect on something we will never outgrow--in this case, one's favorite memories. 

Process notes: "...However, while the implied argument that pain is what makes the horse buck, in actual practice, irritants or pain generally interfere with a horse's ability to buck in an energetic and athletic fashion..A horse in pain will become sullen and not buck very well...' ~wikipedia

Images: Tail Swish, by Pretty Petal Studios. on etsy
No Copyright Infringement is intended
The Broncho Buster, 1909, by Frederich Remington
Public domain via wikiart,org


  1. The last bit seems almost counter intuitive, esp considering the way they get bulls to buck. Maybe horses and bulls are different. Ha. What a conundrum we are, sometimes even to ourselves. What is consistent? There are some intriguing contrasts in this - like the mix between the stud and govt mule. Ha.

    1. Thanks, X--and I added a process note for you.

  2. This has so much romance in it.. I have never ridden, but I can understand the passion and the bond between man and stead. I love the way you weave it with the moon.. :-)

  3. This is a lovely poem, funny, poignant, tart, sweet, sharp, a bit soft--you paint vivid pictures, and it is kind of wonderful the way the clown with hand becomes like a ridden horse, another sort of appaloosa, in a way--it has a wonderful music and terrific almost singable imagery-- I was thinking the other day how many memories one has that aren't fully positive and yet one would not like to give them up--thanks. k.

    1. The nice thing about memory is that it is highly selective ;_) Thanks, k.

  4. Well, that left me sort of melty! Sad, sexy, sweet, and triumphant, how did you get all that in there! This will be one of my favorites!

  5. This is incredibly sexy, Hedge. Truly dangerous writing.

  6. You had me at the first two lines - such a sweet combo of words (there is something so serene about the name Appaloosa). This is a sexy, savvy poem which taps into the unreason of passion and the kind of attractions one never forgets.

  7. Your opening is a great hook, reels one right in to the story.....Love that Appaloosa moon......the hand on the buckle....the wind-swished hair and the nuzzle........a wonderful read!

  8. This is such a heartfelt piece.. indeed we all cherish our favorite memories.. and keep them close to our hearts :D Beautifully penned!

    Lots of love,

  9. Fantastic read. I love your Appaloosa moon

  10. Can't always explain the reason of youthful (or any age I suppose) attraction and the memories (especially youthful) ones never leave us... do they? Amazing descriptions - and sexy as hell.

  11. I have missed you Hedge~ So, much magic in this poem~ It enchants and offers the heat of lightning sparks in the thunderous rain. Sorry, I am late getting here...the hot sassy summer sent us a kick ass storm~


  12. so what is it with girls and their horses? is it like guys and sports? :)

    this feels like we're inside the chute with you ~

    1. Thanks, M. I think horses are for girls what mermaids are for men. ;_)

  13. To me this read highly abstracted -- memory's gold stashed in an iron maiden of history -- yet pure, and rich in the message that at its best, love is dangerous, raw, and wrong. Yeehaw and giddeyap.

    1. Yep, nothing worse than musicians, except cowboys. ;_) and so odd, in life that one gets one's greatest kindnesses so often from the one who hurts the most. Still, as I said to K. above, the best thing about memory is that it is selective, and you can choose which bits to rescue and which to leave wandering in the fog--lord knows, it's awfully foggy in my particular iron maiden.Thanks, B.

  14. The moon as a horse is reminiscent of Cohen's song about the runaway horse, and the whole thing is surreal, disquieting, and beautifully written.

  15. Mmmm, I felt as if I were riding in my Dad's truck (without a hole in the floor covered by a grill top so you could see the road beneath), watching a sun set on pastures of horses. Beautifully written, vivid, with the pull of the moon and the sway of the horse and the love for the intensity of those simple things. Kudos!

  16. Even before reading the process note, I could feel the nostalgia in this, romanticizing some parts but well aware of the reality of other aspects.

  17. The whole thing is brilliant and stirring, but I love this stanza best:
    "Some (not I)
    might think you thicker
    than a jug of home-brewed liquor,
    but you had your existential"
    utterly phenomenal :-)


"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry." ~William Butler Yeats