Horse Thief (Some minor tinkering)

[Ron Wallace (Scotshawk)]

               Horse Thief (Revised)

Five decades hang like a horse thief
at the end of a gallows’ rope.
The drop was short, the ending swift ---
               dead without a fight.

Damn it all, just cut me down,
               pitch me in a pine box
say your righteous words over hell-broke bones.

Before the crows can gather up a darker light
               I’ll be gone.

I’ll steal Time’s stallion
               black as starless dark,
take twenty years, cinch the girth strap tight.

I’ll ride away with the south wind
               rising
                    blowing blackness into drifts
between the broken stones
in tangled shades of shadowed night.

I’ll spur the world,
race the falling hours, spin flight
and light out to the Territories
               where shovel dirt won't ever find me.




               Horse Thief (Original)

Five decades hang like horse thieves
on a gallows’ rope.
The drop was short, the ending swift;
they went without a fight.
We’ll cut ‘em down, and lay ‘em in a box
          say a righteous word or two
before the sun begins to set
and black crows gather in the dimming light,

Before a south wind rises
up across the deep green Indian grass
          blowing night ahead of easy sweep
          piling blackness into drifts
between the broken stones that lie
in tangled shades beneath a shadowed moon.

If I could steal Time’s stallion
          black as starless dark,
I’d take twenty years, cinch the girth strap tight
and ride off to the Territories
where a band of falling sand could never find me
hidden in a bed of gypsy nights.

[mfwilkie]

Cowboy, Woke up thinking about this.

Here are some thoughts:

Five decades hang like horse thieves * Love this.
on a gallows’ rope. *The rope is implied in the image of the hanging, Ron.
The drop was short, the ending swift;
they went without a fight. *Their end came without resistance/they end without resistance.
* I'd break here for a pause.
We’ll Just cut ‘em down, and lay ‘em in a box
say a righteous word or two
before the sun begins to sets/before sunset
and black crows gather in the dimming light, *I think you have an opportunity here with the modifier for light, Ron.
in the darker light/last shafts of light(,)
before a the south wind rises in a gypsy night,
before the last of the falling sand can find me.


I read all the rest as excess watering dowm intent, and the metaphor as overdone where you turn the piece to the 'I', Ron.

Mags

up across the deep green Indian grass
blowing night ahead of easy sweep
piling blackness into drifts
between the broken stones that lie
in tangled shades beneath a shadowed moon.
If I could steal Time’s stallion
black as starless dark,
I’d take twenty years, cinch the girth strap tight
and ride off to the Territories
where a band of falling sand could never find me
hidden in a bed of gypsy nights.

[LynnDoiron]

Very excellent, my friend. I like the whole of this, the way you hang the years like horse thieves in the opening and then round back to use "steal" in the last stanza to imagine becoming a thief of -- not time -- Time's stallion! Old horse thief you! Bravo, for great use of image and metaphor and simile.

If I had to pick on anything, it would be here: before the sun begins to set / and black crows gather in the dimming light,

If mine, I think I'd let one of those images go (the sun set or the dimming light); and, if mine, I think I'd go with something like --- before the dimming light begins to draw black crows,

Or not. What a great first read for me today. Thanks. lynn

[David Nelson Bradsher]

Only enjoyment from me, Ron. Thanks, Cowboy.

[Jonathan Morey Weiss-Namaste47]

Stunning metaphor, Ron. The years in one's life stolen by those horse thieves. With all due respect, I think the poem complete without the entire second stanza. Fine work, my friend.

[Ron Wallace (Scotshawk)]

You get do overs when you retire, headed for the golf course now. Thanks, all. Ron

[mfwilkie]

Five decades hang like a horse thief
at the end of a gallows’ rope.
The drop was short, the ending swift—* I'd put am m-dash here.
dead without a fight.**

**Really like the revised opening stanza. But I'm having flow-issues with the rest of it and all the mention of dark and shadows.



I’ll spur the world,
race the falling descending hours,
horse hairs feathered in spinning flight

and light out to the Territories
where shovel and dirt will never find me.***

***What about saying: won't ever find me, to keep the tone of the V I hear in the opening stanza, Ron?

Maggie

[LynnDoiron]

I’ll spur the world,
race the falling hours, spin* flight
and light out to the Territories
where shovel dirt will never find me.

Ron -- two things. One is that in the line you open with Hell, cut me down -- I would biff Hell and just go with Cut me down. My reasoning is that I think the use of Hell there weakens the use of hell-broke as a modifier for bones later in that stanza. And hell-broke bones is just too good to weaken in that way [IMHO]. The other thing is the * above on "spin" rather than "spinning" --- and I know, I know -- meaning changes with this change. But what happens is that Command Voice returns, the order to "spin" flight and light -- as earlier there are the orders to Cut and pitch and so on .... What do you think?

su amiga, lynn

[Ron Wallace (Scotshawk)]

Lynn, Mags, trying a couple of ideas y'all tossed me, thanks. I don't know if anyone else is even reading this thing, but I'm listening. Ron

[mfwilkie]

hey, Cowboy,

I've been thinking about your opening: the use of gallows' rope, the 'o' sound aside, what if you used a make-shift gallows'rope.
going over the poem again a few times tonight, my ear keeps want to hear a few extra syllables in that line.

Five decades hang like a horse thief
at the end of a make-shift gallows’ rope.

And I was thinking if you changed the wording around in the next two lines a wee bit, and add a change in enjambment you could affect that sudden sense of dropping with increased speed in the read.

a short drop, a swift end—
dead without a/one twitch


Five decades hang like a horse thief
at the end of a make-shift gallows’ rope.
a short drop,
a swift end—
dead
without a/one twitch

I still have issues with reference to the excessive use of shades of darkness, but I think it's because I'm hearing a change in voice in the spealer of the poem. Maybe it's more a change of the language he uses. It doesn't seem to have that snappy, defiant tone of to it the first two stanzas have.

What about grab for steal. And steal for for take

I’ll steal Time’s stallion,
and with the girth strap cinched tight

take back some twenty odd years and add them to my life

then/and ride fast and away as the south wind
rises
blowing blackness into drifts
between broken stones of yesterday, the things I know I missed.

My voice, for sure, but can you hear the speed of the horse and rider build? I think it should build as you approach your terrific last stanza.

Mags

[Sherry Thrasher]

This is very good Ron. I understand the metaphor. Can you tell me what an extended metaphor is and how a poem such as this could be extended? I've read this a couple of times now and want to read over the suggestions given by your two side kicks. Well done.

Sherry

[Ron Wallace (Scotshawk)]

Still tinkering. Sherry, this was a try at an extended metaphor. Time is a thief. (metaphor) The speaker extends the metaphor by becoming the thief and stealing back years (stallion) from Time and riding away to escape a finality. See Lynnn's new post for a really well drawn extended metaphor. Ron

[LynnDoiron]

Not so well drawn, but an effort. I surely do like Hell replaced by Damn it all -- that fed up and exasperated aside [time does have that effect, or aging, or whatever makes these old bones, damn it all, moan and fuss!]

in tangled shades of shadowed night. Just me, just this read, but while I like the sounds in this line as written, the shadowed gets redundant, maybe, or not -- but thought I'd mention.

[wavemaker9 (Rick D.)]

where shovel dirt won't never find me. (more colloquial?)