Have I posted this before? I wrote a poem based on the song, 'Stable Song' by Death Cab for Cutie. I took it literally...thus about horses.
Here are the lyrics:
Time for the final bow,
Rows of deserted houses,
All our stable mates highway bound.
Give us our measly sum,
Getting the air inside my lungs is heavenly,
Starting out, with nothing but crippling doubt.
We'll rest easy justified.
Suffered a swift defeat,
I’ll endure countless repeats,
The gift of memory's an awful curse,
With age it just gets much worse,
But I won't mind,
I won't mind,
I won't mind,
I won't mind.
Here is my poem:
Stable Song
The track had seen better days,
Worse ones, too.
Barns needed roofs patched
Paint peeled off buildings.
Long barn, stable one after
Another were empty.
No horses' heads hung over
Stall doors.
All the good horses have had
Their legs wrapped.
They've been loaded onto
The trucks bound for
Bigger, richer tracks.
The purse I win today
Won't pay my bills.
Medical bills climb.
And I'm tethered
To this oxygen tank.
If only I could breathe.
If only I thought each horse
I put forth to the track
Would race home
First each time.
But I am plaqued with doubt.
Doubt about the horse,
Doubt about myself
About my past and future.
I'll rest one day
One day when I'm gone.
All will remember me fondly.
All will be fair then.
Each horse to the track
Could lose
Could get hurt.
A defeat, one of many
Adding to those in my past.
Adding to what my future will bring
Only defeat
I'll remember each loss
Like each victory
Holding them-the memories
Like prizes
With age, these memories
May be all I have
But I don't mind.
If I can't win
At least I will have
Won in my mind
Again and again.
But I don't mind.
[EDIT-Originally posted to Blogger on 10/16/11.]
Here are the lyrics:
Time for the final bow,
Rows of deserted houses,
All our stable mates highway bound.
Give us our measly sum,
Getting the air inside my lungs is heavenly,
Starting out, with nothing but crippling doubt.
We'll rest easy justified.
Suffered a swift defeat,
I’ll endure countless repeats,
The gift of memory's an awful curse,
With age it just gets much worse,
But I won't mind,
I won't mind,
I won't mind,
I won't mind.
Here is my poem:
Stable Song
The track had seen better days,
Worse ones, too.
Barns needed roofs patched
Paint peeled off buildings.
Long barn, stable one after
Another were empty.
No horses' heads hung over
Stall doors.
All the good horses have had
Their legs wrapped.
They've been loaded onto
The trucks bound for
Bigger, richer tracks.
The purse I win today
Won't pay my bills.
Medical bills climb.
And I'm tethered
To this oxygen tank.
If only I could breathe.
If only I thought each horse
I put forth to the track
Would race home
First each time.
But I am plaqued with doubt.
Doubt about the horse,
Doubt about myself
About my past and future.
I'll rest one day
One day when I'm gone.
All will remember me fondly.
All will be fair then.
Each horse to the track
Could lose
Could get hurt.
A defeat, one of many
Adding to those in my past.
Adding to what my future will bring
Only defeat
I'll remember each loss
Like each victory
Holding them-the memories
Like prizes
With age, these memories
May be all I have
But I don't mind.
If I can't win
At least I will have
Won in my mind
Again and again.
But I don't mind.
[EDIT-Originally posted to Blogger on 10/16/11.]
