*The feline Texan way*
A fresh coat of paint,” on my nails
Red shade of lips," on my smile
Solid oak charms,” on my wrist
Country music,” in my heart
Flattering eyes,” a rustic, shell.
Join me, won’t you?
In this "Country Girls Tale"
Every day I approach the morning dawn,
I follow the landscape towards the new Texas sun.
Surround by yellow roses and cactus galore.
I brand my name everywhere I go,
I allow you near the limits of my Wild West soul.
I keep it above the snake level everywhere I roll.
Got my head up like a cowgirl,
I slick my hands down my black leather chaps.
I tilt my bull hide hat leaving behind the sweetest Texas Trail.
I rode through many Texas midnight storm.
It took more than raindrops to knock me from my- “2-Steppin’ world.”
A windy ride, bruises under the hide taking it in like- “A Real Cowgirl!”
I got a tight grip on my saddle, holding on to a brighter morrow.
Enjoying the voices and the sound.
Tex-Mex lingo, round and round.
Ropers and Wranglers are how I dress.
I got it all covered, except for the top of my chest.
Living’ it up^, down here in the south.
Erin’ the lungs, shooting up the fun
Long necks’ and kissing under a rodeo’ moon.
Honky-Tonk, tattooing the mockingbird.
You will find me sitting on the Country ground,
Peacefully staring into the eyes of the "Alamo Stars."
Flowing with the art found in the flag I hold.
I am The Wild!
I am The West!
“— A little crazy, but civilized!”
Enjoying the morning breeze,
Where the dew sits on the tip of Mother Nature’s tongue.
There and only there you will find me,
Under the brightest Texas Star.
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A
Cowboys in the Badlands
Out West, across the great divide
great open spaces oceans wide
Beauty in these badlands does hide
everything fights us as we ride
Last stop, was exciting wild Abilene
shot an hombre that was very mean
Watched him bleed as he slowly died
his gal held him and loudly she cried
Before, she had sworn love to me
next his dying love she swore to be
Riding away fast, ahead of the Law
looking back, cloud of dust we saw
My partner lit out on me last night
cried this was surely not his fight
He turned back east galloping so fast
we had our time, had a damn blast
Ahead the badlands beckon me on
this cowboy life sets me all alone
Hot as hell the water miles ahead
A night's rest to clear my head
Morning sun woke me to its heat
no bread, bacon and eggs to eat
My water is in very short supply
always fleeing, I ponder just why
No time to enjoy such pretty views
my path ahead my life must choose
Avoiding Indians and the chasing men
forever alone with never a friend
This beauty now I can slow to see
posse has surely given up on me
Coyotes call , rattlesnakes do hiss
comfort of town I do sorely miss
Found now, a trail to old Mexico
across the Rio Grande I now go
Far behind, hot hell races after me
dancing with pretty senoritas I'll soon be!
Copyright © Robert Lindley
My knees were the things that
kept me up and my skin is my
cutting board my eyes are the
rain clouds to the fire running
down my arms and my heart is
the fire place that keeps me
burning so calm
Copyright © brittney lopez
God took six days to create this earth.
After some rest, He plotted a cowgirl's birth.
"Folks have got off track since time begin."
"My Cowgirl will be perfect," He thought with a grin.
"Problems are Global since it started in motion."
I’ll fix this mess with My Cowgirl notion."
As He pondered His stars an' His moonlit skies.
He captured that beauty to put in her eyes.
"My Sun's warmth will be bred into her heart."
"No stature of creature will be bred as smart."
He looked upon the Rockies an' the beauty there in.
He thought, "That's the beauty I'll put in her grin."
He thought of His fire an' how hot it does burn.
"That's the intensity of My Cowgirl's concern."
"My oceans are strong an' mighty like Me."
"Just how I want My Cowgirl to be."
He thought how His trees do flex in His wind.
"My Cowgirl will flex, like these she will bend."
"My prairies have stretched both vast an' wide".
"That's the same Love she'll carry inside."
"The measure an' vastness of the depths of My oceans."
"The same measure is set for My Cowgirl's emotions."
He pondered the gentleness of His spring day rain.
"That's the gentle ease I want in her brain."
"My birds toil tirelessly for endless hours."
"Man can't count the bounty of My flowers."
"My Cowgirl will match the energy of My birds."
"Like My flowers her beauty can't be captured with words."
He reflects back on life an' how it begins.
The future of it all an' how it all ends.
That's the way it is an' the way it should be.
"She's dog-gone near perfect, for My whole world to see."
By Jim "Ish' Fellers
Copyright ©: March 24, 2004 ~ Wednesday
Copyright © JW Fellers
Majestic he stands
Head held high and proud
Until I draw near tack in hand
His mussel to my chest he bows
Our eyes fixed
With deepest affection
Respect from me
From him acceptance
His nostrils flair
He inhales my scent
A bond beyond fences
A mutual consent
About horse and rider
How can I explain
This communion of splendor
With reverent candor
Can any man compare
Who would be considered grander
Horse or rider if you dare
Nobility without pride
Beauty without vanity
Majesty without disciple
Power without violence
Do you still wonder why I'm longing for the ride
When he challenges the wind for speed
Brushed by heaven with every stride
Intimacy mounted here on "Spirit's Pride"
My steed and I in harmony
Exhilaration captivates my senses
Pounding hooves, his earthen scent
Taut muscles ripple in sweat profusely drenched
He heeds the slightest touch of rein
His saddle is my alter of prayer
When he on oceans sands a trot
My soul is healed all disrepair
In bed I lay awake tonight my mind a heavy load
His blaze is blazoned in my memory burned
Of black night mane and chestnut coat
A quatrain tribute to his name he's earned
Still you may not understand
This yearning so many take in stride
Of horse and rider pure joy provider
And oh such longing for the ride
Copyright © Sarai Romani
< beneath swollen ..... moon
in pasture of...... rolling hills
standing ....hind quarters
a beautiful black ...... stallion
simply took my breath ........ away
A Memory Of Beauty
Copyright © Katherine Stella
gentlemen need loaves bread
others wishes to be civilized
i myself wishe ur deployed
the road you go
the chair you sit and the river you swim
disturb me and blame
the garment you wear
oinment you colour
the blinks the pigments they are
the love genarated the fire
i cannot resist shall i swear
at the begining of the the year people flock to Dv
in other ways i go to DSTV
infact of america is not as such concern for me and i am not sensitive
you are victorious i am your fugitive
defeating you is as far as PLUTO and complicative
madness i am
craziness i become
cool you are how to play your game
day and dawn i dream
i miss you at the morning getting harm
you do not understand this
how i become embarassed and my crisis
my pulse doubles
my words whispers
my breathing changes
my sickness relapses
people encouraged with money
sealers satisfies with their business
mine is not that my earnest is you
my happieness and my value
you are the solely you are my lottery
do not far from me i will get crazy
fee will knock to us if we become so happy
do not hesitate my lovely
we will be wealthy
come on my beautiful you are my lottery(2)
Copyright © YESHAMBEL BIRLIE
Please help me, I've fallen
In Lust with You.
You're just so damn sexy,
That's why I'm hittin' on you.
You don't have to love me,
Some good sex will do.
Please help me, I've fallen
In Lust with You.
Yes, you turned me on
When I saw you walk in...
The face of an Angel,
A body just made for Sin.
Now, I may be real horny,
But one thing is true:
What would satisfy me, Girl
Would be to satisfy You.
So please help me, I've fallen
In Lust with You;
And I hope that you're fallin'
In Lust with me too;
But if not, then please fake it,
Please don't leave me "blue"...
Please help me, I've fallen
In Lust with You.
Copyright © Robert Candler
America the Beautiful
The heartland of America of peace and old farmhouses,
the country I read about as a young man it is still there
although news we are served is of riots and mass shooting.
Sturdy farmers in blue overall at the bottom of the road
have collections of old stuff from recent past things
collected for the love of it, but you can buy some if they
feel like selling, canny know the value of scrap metal
Nice roads in a green landscape and tall three, and no
police sirens scream around winding corners and bullets
do not fly through the air hitting a child.
This is America the beautiful, I will go there someday,
perhaps buy a rusty old Dodge that has been standing under
a tree for twenty five years-who cares- and talk to the old
farmer about this and the sorry life of city dwellers.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen
Long miles of tedious journey,
Missing my darling honey.
Travelling impatiently, spend thousands of
Hope god will bless me with ma lucky soul
at this season.
Equatorial island exploring its amazed
beauty, glittering with immersed grasses.
Wrapped by queens necklaced small lake
aside, at the outskirts of dalhousie.
My heart dwelled into its god gifted
When the night lime lighted,
Millions of stars scattered around
As if its was a wondering boon.
Lucky enough for landing with my next
Eagerly waiting for my heart chaser,
Girl passed near by, few seconds later.
Flaming beauty mould my soul.
Topped with innocence, ready for my
Her chic appearance,
Her innocent appeal.
Strucking heart raised with high beats..
Awaited for our romantic date in ma
Frequency of our nature matched.
Stolen Eyes of each other were catched.
Strings of our heart whistled
Everything had happened miraclelously.
I rebelled the three precious words of
Accepting my red rose, She blushed.
At event of recreation, campfire were
Nobody around us, private moments
between we two spotlighted.
Playing guitar, she sinked with every beat,
That's the coincidence our eyes again
Hand in hand danced with the soothing
Sparkling smile on her face beamed.
Getting closer to her, because of her
Expecting the light around us to be dim.
The romantic moment again came,
Flaps of my soul opened for the grand
She looked too pretty in her gold lame
My heart awarded her an order of chivalry.
Don't know who are you, but baby you are
the one, I am in love.
You live in me, You are my love
I feel you in my heart,
You are my world, I just cant stay apart!
Please don't hesitate, please don't lie,
Whatever you feel, my heart can buy!
Angel of life, Its just you.
Completeness in life can't be without you.
Wanna Carry journey happily together.
Tickling nose, Queenly beauty of my white
Hold my senses, its caught by you.
Don't let be just memories, wanna feel
ecstasy of love towards you forever.
Promising to hold your hand throughout
life in this lovely weather.
Will be your shadow, because your pain
will be mine.
Its destiny that our heart clicked a
snapshot of each other's soul.
Stopping by my question, Will you marry
me, my Kindred Soul?
Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare
Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
Copyright © Kristopher Higgs
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.
21 February 2013
Copyright © Smail Poems
The two Cowboys stood at the cliff of a great divide.
Jacob stood, starring across the opening with Bill still
in his saddle, close by his side. The rocky seen was like
A kaleidoscope, every color, ever known.
Is there any other place you would rather be Bill?
Bill said, No Jacob, I don't believe so.
Jacob slowly, climbed back on to his horse and pulled the
reins and headed North. He started whistling a happy note
and Bill listened as he followed Jacob to the valley
Deadwood City here we come, looking for gold and lots of fun,
Jacob shouted! Yep, Bill shouted back, and we need to keep us
a fully loaded gun. The Cowboys laughed out loud as they rode on.
The Cowboys knew Deadwood could make a man so very rich
and they had contracted the gold fever itch. The day's travel was
so very long and hot, and the sun began to sink below the mountain's
amber, rugged tops.
They found a place to camp before nightfall and how that fire crackled
as they ate beans and corn fritters, and over coffee talked.
You know Bill, said Jacob. One Summer could set us straight and you
could pay off the old farm and fix that crooked gate.
Yeah, Bill responded and then you could marry Jenny. Maybe start
a family and maybe even buy the Ole Mill. Yeah, said Jacob, so surreal.
The Cowboys lay starring at the stars in the sky that clear, crisp night
and dreamed of all the things that gold could buy them, until daylight.
The Cowboys made Deadwood and Oh, the sights they seen.
They panned every river and every stream. Then at summer's end
they cashed it all in and headed back to Tennessee, to live out their lives
and share with their family the story of their Deadwood dreams.
Copyright © Sharon Gulley
Your love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and i'm
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried
by the dove of someone I use to know.
Copyright © Sam Ruby
With age is supposed to come wisdom, but occasionally age comes alone. so the question that lies amongst many men is what does it truly mean to be grown. Is it the cars you drive, or perhaps the bill your supposed to pay. Maybe its the overwhelming burden of certain responsibility. Or do we ever grow up? Age is just a testimony of how long we've been here not of how much we've learned. Wisdom is the declaration of what we do after we've crashed and burned. Do we get up, dust ourselves off and return to our feet. Or do stay down wallow in self pity and concede to defeat. You can never get enough wisdom, its just one of those qualities and traits that can never hurt to have, Like a person with a loving touch, a gentle stare and a way of making you laugh. Wisdom can lead you to much more then just knowledge. Its a gateway to Fame, riches, and essentially the answers to all your problems. Take note of all the wise men in our time, From Martin Luther King, who's Famous today all way back to Albert Einstein. Both wise in different ways, but even more Now then they were in there own Days. So in a sense our lives can truly never excel to height we want it to before dying. You see because out Wisdom reaching that high is like being a dope addict we'll do nothing but die trying.
Copyright © Clemon Beverly
Her hair flows with the waves of the wind.
Her spirit wild and free.
Her heart beats with the rhythm of her feet.
Her eyes reflect the purity with in her soul.
Her loyalty unquestionable.
Her beauty out shines the sun.
She is the most vibrant mare I have ever seen.
Copyright © christie mills
Where the sky meets the earth and the highway goes on and on, a white satin ribbon snaking across a sea of brown. You can see far into the distance with no trees to obscure your view. No billboards mar the landscape, no skyscrapers rise out of the ground. Rolling hills, tumble-weed, yucca, sagebrush and distant mountains range on forever. Herds of antelope roam freely, wearing coats of butterscotch and whipped cream.
Artists leave their signatures, huge metal sculptures drawing the eye, many miles in advance. Anticipation grips you as you wait to identify buffalo, roadrunner, jackrabbit, Brahma bull or horse and rider.
Contemplate a life so different from your own, experience the serenity as you roll along with so little effort, feel the fulfillment, the contentment, the embracing freedom.
Copyright © Cona Adams
I'm a religous man, but I don't go to church
I tried a few times,
They said I wasn't welcome in the clothes I wore,
I smelled of horse, my boots tracked mud.
The Good Lord, apparently, likes His church folk clean
I Smiled as sweet as can be,
And told those folks that was just fine with me.
I rode everyday in the Lords house,
The wide open range.
I was welcome there,
Wether I had showered that day or not.
And everyday, I felt the Lord whisper in my ear,
Through a soft breeze.
I heard Him answer my prayers,
I saw what they had never seen,
Witnessed the Lord start life,
Bring it forth,
And usher it back out again.
I saw the wisdom in living the Lord gives,
and I saw beauty beyond compare.
I rode beside those who judged not,
And judged them not myself.
I told them clean church folk,
I respect the Lords house,
But I doubted it was He who refused me for want of good clothes,
I saw Him everyday,
and everyday He welcomed me,
beneath warm sun and endless sky.
But I would ask Him,
when my time came,
if His house was as clean as all that.
Perhaps I'd put in a good word for those who'd refused me,
in their ignorance.
The Lords house is everywhere,
I may not be indoors when I pray,
But that just cuts the confusion,
With no ceiling to muffle my prayers.
I'm a religous man,
But no church do I call mine,
But the Lords wide open spaces,
The beauty he created,
No man made structure cases my prayers,
and to no man do I bow,
But everyday the Good Lord finds me in awe of his creation,
An appreciation many folks fail to find indoors.
Copyright © samantha jepson
HOW COULD YOU A
AND HOW DARE YOU
TREAT HER LIKE THAT
IS SHE NOT HUMAN
IS SHE NOT YOUR SISTER
THEN WHY TAKE ADVANTAGE OF HER
WHY PRETEND YOU DO NOT CARE
WHY CANT YOU ACCEPT HER THE WAY SHE IS
IS SHE NOT A PERSON
IS SHE NOT HUMAN
WELL TO ME SHE IS
SHE IS A SISTER TO ME
WHY JUDGE HER IF IT IS NOT YOUR DUTY TO JUDGE
SHE IS LESBIAN
YES SHE IS LESBIAN
AND SHE IS PROUD
WHO ARE YOU TO LOOK DOWN ON HER
SHE DOES NOT NEED YOUR SYMPATHY
SHE IS OK JUST THE WAY SHE IS
AND IF YOU CANT CHANGE HER THEN
LEAVE HER ALONE
SHE HAD ENOUGH
SHE IS TIRED OF YOU PEOPLE
CANT YOU GET THAT?
SHE HAD ENOUGH
AND SHE IS A LESBIAN
Copyright © PEGGY MAKOENA
Young Jesi Naomi channeling Trish Roland
incarnate professedly. Hour: you dead now?
Tuba bongo blues like a freight train serenade
in the American night. You slammed life against
the wall, slammed it. Drank it down
with booze stained splinters and mop handle blues.
Guitar licks and microphone screams,
taste like swill and Lysol. If nausea
Permeates your pours, belt it out
From the reaches of your bosom. You
Never played the possum.
I can’t wait for summer or autumn.
Copyright © Stephen Barry