Riding Advice

Indian Hunting

If you wish to mount a stallion

and ride like the wind

with heart drumming in tune

with the thunder-beat of hooves

on ancient trails

in ancestral lands

with Spirit Guide

teaching you sacred war cry,

you must get off purple pony

and leave the land of carousels behind.

© JW Thomas

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Push

Fluid expulsion

prepare for air

Birth

Push

Rump smack wail

rude awakening

Prodded

poked

somebody’s stoked

Bond

flesh on flesh

lips to nips

sustenance

Fits the bill

till over-fill

Pat the back

spit up and yak

Tasty times

Daily routines

Strange sensation

new scents

gut wind

Push

Messy

Parental elation

plumbing works

quirky standards

test of time

Time passes

Social interaction

malfunction

distraction

Confrontation

venting

Skill acquisition

Physical escalation

Irresistible force

Immovable

character trait

Push

Pride – self-esteem

team player

Push

Obstacles

challenges

adventures

Push

College

career

tour of duty

Push

A look

a touch

a word

Love

real

don’t push!

Surrender

surrender-to-love

© JW Thomas

Freelance Stuntman on the Western Fringe

[Memories from my past.]

Jerry stunt #16

[What’s a stuntman without his trusty steed?]

Beginnings often span generations.

Pop dreams of Hopalong Cassidy,

Gene Autry, and Roy Rogers.

Junior imagines Audie Murphy,

John Wayne, and Clint Eastwood.

Pop vacates the country,

no more dung to sling.

Junior starts his dream in a barrio,

a suburb of L.A.

City boy with a country heart,

no stables to muck or rake.

Lone Ranger’s mask,

two white-handled cap guns.

Bonanza lunchbox until the age of eight:

hold onto them any longer and even the girls

would give tear-jerking wedgies.

What a surprise a dozen years make:

paid to play childhood heroes:

bang-bang shoot um’ up.

But the only stars attached to Junior’s name

come with impacts and concussions.

It helps to be an adrenaline junkie,

plus hustle here and there.

Fights, falls, fire: their willing to pay,

Junior’s willing to play.

Skydiving, mountain climbing, scuba:

give him the check, he’ll hit the deck.

Car crashes, chases, motorcycle jumps – Stop!

Jerry stunt #15

[Damn! Here comes another bruise!]

Hold everything! Where are his westerns?

“Sorry fella…

but he ain’t never rode a horse.”

What?

Don’t years on a carousel count?

The S.O.B. just walked away.

Junior proved him wrong –

he could fall off a horse

better than he could ride one.

Next, he bought a stunt pony

that could fall along with him.

When both go down

neither feels like such a loser.

When they fell together

they finally got the westerns.

Live shows, exhibitions,

documentaries, stunt competitions.

Jerry stunt #19

[Brotherly love… stuntman style!]

Yippee ki yay – blankety-blank.

Hero cheers – villain jeers –

sexy ingénue whistles and catcalls.

Stunt actors receive the loudest ovations.

Pointing guns at an audience

has an influential effect.

The western fringe

is both blessing and curse.

No fame or fortune would there be.

But more fun than a Sci-Fi wife

at her first alien abduction.

Non-western stunts are in demand,

and pay much better.

Junior doesn’t care –

at least not much –

at least not when asked publicly.

Junior’s living his dream.

A childhood fantasy:

It comes with every call to

saddle-up, spur um’ on,

shoot um’ down, and roll um’ over.

Though he still ends up with

a wedgie or two

while performing a stirrup drag and release.

Jerry stunt #26

[Hey stop! I got wedgie!]

© JW Thomas

Jerry stunt #17

[Some days you get off on the wrong side of the horse.]

Ghost of lives lived

Revolutionary Doubt 1b0001

My father’s father survived a war torn land as a child but could not survive the war that raged within him.

My father’s mother carried the weight of a broken generation on frail shoulders and fed it with pockets full of imitation love.

My father perpetually relived the death of his dreams till Death finally came for him.

My maternal grandfather built the Interstate of Integrity through the Badlands of prejudicial injustice.

My mother’s mother was born to please Earth with her scent – like Night Blooming Jasmine – only to be gone by morning.

My mother lived her life for others except for a momentary lapse that left her a lone wolf without a pack.

I live as a ghost in a life of lies built on the expectations of others.

 

© JW Thomas