Word: ridden
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...Seattle fund raiser. "Mark my words: it will not be six months before the world tests Barack Obama like they did John Kennedy," Biden told the $1,000-a-ticket Democratic donors, who no doubt were startled to discover that the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse had ridden into the downtown Sheraton. "Remember, I said it standing here, if you don't remember anything else I said. Watch - we're going to have an international crisis, a generated crisis, to test the mettle of this guy." A bemused Obama responded, "I think that Joe sometimes engages in rhetorical flourishes...
...simplicity in technique that evokes nostalgia for the band’s past endeavors. But that’s just skimming the surface. The Killers wouldn’t be the band they are today without a little quirkiness thrown in for good measure. They’ve already ridden tiny donkeys, fallen in love with courtesans, and pretended to be cowboys. Now, it’s time to flirt with danger. Bring on the cougars and white tigers. The animals do seem a little irrelevant at first—the Killers are one with nature...
Then, of course, there are the warhorses themselves. In the poem that lends the book its title, Komunyakaa speaks of them as mythic beings, created to be ridden into battle. Throughout the book, Komunyakaa suggests that there is some basic human force that drives man to war; the horses are just as old and just as essential to the task of killing. As such, horses are often referred to throughout the poems as a symbol of man’s own warlike drive: “Horses carried men to reed boats. / Horses carried the Lion-hearted / ...Horses carried...
While each of the three sections has its own distinctive tone, Komunyakaa’s voice is discernible behind them all. He is the warhorse, the man who has ridden into battle and can’t quite seem to return home even all these years later. He knows he’ll never be able to explain the entirety of his experience, so he doesn’t even try. Instead, he limits his focus to one moment, one person, one tool of war. In the process, he manages to say something greater. By looking at individual causes...
...buffalo dreams started to fade. Just when we had given up all hope of viewing the fabled bison, we found them. But they were not, as I had inexplicably imagined, majestic and docile creatures roaming free on a wide-open plain, allowing themselves to be petted or even ridden by a worthy human such as myself. Instead there were maybe four buffalo lounging in a chain-link enclosure. As we stared at them, one arose, pooped, and sat back down. We left soon after...