Cowboy Poems | Examples

i still got sum

.

       'neath thuh prairie'z
                 thickets
        'long it's lush open
                 hidden
                 mostly

          'twere that pink
               halter yo
            stuck it were
            in duh visible 

                 thump
        'cross mine dome
            her daddy'z
                  warn

                    ")

she sets 'pon shale

.
                 for my
             convenance

                leopard 
          fundament winks
                  skirt 

             tuh die for
                 'blue'
        strapless bikini top
              (((pop)))
            pardon mine
              verbosity
              (((yet)))
             she wait'd 
         at thuh basin uv
             hern hang
                  sea
                  for
                  my

                excite

now that's thuh

                  tap


Give Me Horses

I’ve ridden long ’cross windswept land,
Seen men lie with a shake of hand.
Smiles can fool, and words can bend—
But a horse stays honest ‘til the end.

People come with masks and games,
Talk in riddles, shift the blame.
But a mustang don’t play make-believe—
He gives what’s real, not what you need.

A horse don’t gossip, scheme, or plot,
He don’t forget what folks forgot.
He learns your heart, he knows your ways—
And still he stands through all your days.

I’ve trusted folks, and paid the price,
Heard sweet tongues deal loaded dice.
But reins in hand and saddle tight—
A horse rides true in day or night.

I’d take a horse ‘fore any crowd,
Where truth runs quiet, not loud.
They don’t judge tears, they don’t fake grace—
Just steady strength in an open space.

So when I die, don’t dress me grand,
No polished wood or preacher’s stand.
Just lay me down beneath the sky—
With horses grazin’ wanderin’ by.

The Saddle Waits

The sunrise paints the prairie gold,
The breeze still hums that tune of old,
Where once I’d ride with reins held tight,
Now I rock through the hush of night.

My boots sit still by the old back door,
Dusty dreams from days before.
The saddle waits on its wooden stand—
But now I hold life in my hands.

No roundup calls, no cattle cry,
Just lullabies and baby sighs.
I traded spurs for whispered songs,
And sleepless nights that stretch so long.

But oh, my heart—it rides each day,
Through love too fierce to drift away.
Though trails are quiet, and horses rest,
This little one is my newest west.

I miss the wind, the leather’s creak,
The freedom dancing on my cheek.
But I would choose this soft-eyed view
A thousand times, and all anew.

Someday soon, I’ll saddle high,
With baby watching, bright and spry.
We’ll ride again—me and the sky—
But for now, it’s lullabies.

antihistamine'd

.

                    clop
                    clop
          clop clop clop clop
                 clop clop
                    clop

                    clop

          what i go through
          tuh be with ya girl

                 giddy up


sum'z them b!tchez

.

                          ohh yeah
                         i can see it
                     her carry'n that
                              45
                     tuh shoot thuh
                           b!tchez

                           whuut

              sum'z them b!thcez got
                           rabiez

sweet sibling

.

                aight
           now tell me 
                again
       your logic regard
            'mine think'
                lock'd
                 hern

                  "your
                lips"
                
               Thump

line dance'er

.

          i felt her soft
          brush 'gainst
                 my

          i hear'd hern 
             whisper 
               "shh"

          i watch'd her
              brother
               sneer

occidental simpatico

.

           'Twere thuh finish
                     Line

            "my horse and i
                love'd your
                    grits
                    and 
                 biscuits" 

                    tap

                 i meant
                    clop

Carnival of Hatred

“Come one, come all!”
The hawker summons
Try your luck
On the unmoored Ferris wheel

Hurl a dart
At the Kewpie dolls
Win one for the lady
To consummate the deal

(Chorus)
Intruders in the festival
Outsiders at the gates
Nothing like a carnival
To bring up dormant hates

Where the pavement meets the grass
Behind the stand of funnel cakes,
Someone's getting hornery
Their pants down at their feet

This balloon-tank life
Is more than I can take
This Friday night special
Affords me no relief

(chorus)

Prizes, prizes, and more prizes
Mustachioed lady dons disguises
The smell of ether and saw dust
A dead roller coaster under rust

They say life is a funhouse
That explains why everyone is so ugly
A grotesque face in a curvy mirror –
A cotton-candy bed for an endless nightmare –

It’s carnival time, again.

The Soft Goodbye of a Mountain Bear

He woke to the hush of a mountain thaw,  
Where snow gave way to pine and claw,  
The breath of spring in the alpine air,  
Stirred the long slumber of the highland bear.  

His coat still thick with the sleep of frost,  
Not knowing yet what he'd gained or lost,  
He sniffed the wind with a gentle grace,  
And lumbered down from his shadowed place.  

The creek sang low, the sun cast gold,  
The world, once icy, now warm and bold.  
He moved like dusk through the melting white,  
Drawn by hunger, drawn by light.  

But the forest's edge was not the same,  
A ribbon of danger blacktop flame,  
Where speed and steel meet fur and bone,  
And wild hearts walk this path alone.  

On Highway 14, the silence broke,  
A screech, a thud, then rising smoke.  
No hunter’s cry, no cub’s soft call 
Just the stillness after a sudden fall.  

Now he lies in the morning haze,  
A monarch felled in the modern maze.  
And the pines bow low in the April breeze,  
As ravens circle in silent pleas.  

For not all who wake from winter’s keep  
Will find the spring they dreamed in sleep.  
The highway roars, but none may hear  
The soft goodbye of a mountain bear.

Josh Moore Montana

Cheap ale pools in a Styrofoam cup.
She’s barefoot in gravel,
anklet flashing beneath the floodlamps.

Pickup window ajar, radio blaring
“Friends in Low Places.”

Her jeans slung low,
hips marbled violet on the porch-swing,
ash winnowing across her thighs
from last night’s guttering fire.

I watch the buttes flatten at gloaming,
a silo blinking red—
a wound stitched into the earth.

She speaks of leaving at firstlight.
I say nothing,
fingers tracing the stubs of dead cigarettes
between her knuckles.

Coyotes keen beyond the barbed-wire.
The stars loom Pendulous
We do not lift our gaze.

i'll still punch uh brutha out

.

                       i felt hern pretty
                               hips
                                lips
                               twist

                       i felt hern pretty
                               melt
                              shiver

                       i felt hern pretty
                              warm
                          az slid 'part
                           ourn flesh
                               did

                      i felt hern breathe
                                az
                           pretty she
                             sleep'd

Josh Moore North Dakota II

TV news broadcasts the motel dark,
she lies flat, belly soft with rabbit tattoos,
ash smudged into the sheets.

My boots drip clay and pesticide,
fingers stained from counting nickels.

Outside, a pumpjack bows to the ground,
over and over,
like it’s praying.

She whispers something about escape.
I kiss the scar beneath her jaw,
taste motel soap and Marlboro light.

The window rattles
an oil train snakes past in the distance,
headlights stitching the prairie shut.

Somewhere under the bed,
a cockroach drags a matchstick.

We don’t speak again.
Just listen
to the fridge counting seconds
between the thunder.

gag'er

.
    al'lup in'er
       muzzle
   mine trusty
   oil'd rag tuh
        slip'in 
  i guess ya can
          say
        gag'er

thuh Kool thing iz
        though
    She doesn't 
         choke

         whut

      'tiz mine 
     44Magnum (clean'n day)
    if i clean her
      Regularly
     She won't
       "choke"

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