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Cowboy Music Poems | Cowboy Poems About Music

These Cowboy Music poems are examples of Cowboy poems about Music. These are the best examples of Cowboy Music poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Lyric | |

Hello, Good-bye, So Long On CD

You say you like to ride in my pick-up truck,
to sing karaoke, and drink some beers,
but how can you say country music sucks,
when your rappin' nearly burns my ears,

Well, you can think and say, but by the way,
I'm also gonna speak my mind,
'cause country music is what I'll sing 'n' play,
if you don't like it, kiss my behind,

And you don't have to stand in line,
to kiss where the sun don't shine,
good country music, to me, sounds fine,
but your yappin' rappin' just ain't my kind,

Yea, I'm a country boy, deep to the core,
if you can't tell by now, you're blind,
and like I've said many times before
that crap in rappin' just ain't my kind,

I know you don't like my snake skin boots,
though my cowboy hat you say is fine,
but cowboy boots are part of my country roots,
since way back, a long long time,

Yea, you don't have to stand in line,
to kiss where the sun don't shine,
good country music, to me, sounds fine,
but your yappin' rappin' just ain't my kind,

Yea, you don't have to stand in line,
to kiss where the sun won't shine,
and if my boots don't turn you on,
then I reckon you'd best get gone,
So hello, good-bye, so long,

But, before you go, If you don't mind,
leave a kiss where the sun don't shine,
since country music doesn't turn you on,
and my snake skin boots don't turn you on,
Yea, I reckon, you'd best get gone.
So hello, Good-bye, So Long.


Details | Free verse | |

Groundswell Girl - Named by JB

Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be 
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed 
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin 
Whisper lies as I let you in 
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky 
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail


Details | Lyric | |

Buried Myself Alive

can you remember the time i let you in?
the time i showed you my heart?
the time i shared my soul with you?
the moment i poured out my blood when you needed it?
The second i saved your life?
The hour i saved you from your darkest secret?
The minute where you watched me bury myself alive?
Remember the time when you almost made me cry?
the time i made it a game to play your game?
the day i had my own time and took advantage of myself?
the hour it took to shut you out and let you go away for a long time?
well your going to have to ask nicer than that 


Details | Light Poetry | |

' El Toro - Rojo '

Como’ Si’ Yama’, Senor’
Como’ Si Yama’, Por Favor’…
… for Below That Embroidered Sombrero’
Shone Eyes Like El Dorado

He Was A Tall and Handsome Hombre’
Like The Range of Sierra Madre’
…Now, He Sat Center The Cantina
Surrounded by Bonita – Senhoritas

He Smiled, “Buenos-Dias Senora’”
Por Favor, Por Que’ El-Hora’ ?...
If So, Have A Seat, Mi- Amiga’
And Mercedes, Bring Over More Cerveza

He Was… Rodrigo Reyes-Pacheco’
Best - of The West, of Vaqueros’
He Came to Compete in The Rodeos
And Win Fame and Fortune in Pesos’

He Came Thru El Paso De’ Tejas
Thru Dusty Rancheros and Mesas
To Ride on El Toro Rojo
Who Has Never Been Ridden Befo’…

La Viva’… Arriva’  … Rodrigo
The Brave and The Bold Caballero’
Champion Bull Rider, from Old Mexico
Vaya’… Con Dios’ !... Rodrigo

Now, El Toro Rojo, Was Dangerous
For Killing Men, El Rojo, Was Infamous
His Horns Had Pierced Many A Corazon
Ripped Flesh, Like It Was Piñata’ Hung

I Informed All of This To Rodrigo
The Hombre, Was Bent on Being Macho’…
… He Would Ride Toro Rojo, Manyana’
Said “Gracias”… But My Cares Were Por Nada’ !

La Viva’… Arriva’… Rodrigo
The Brave and The Bold Caballero’
Champion Bull Rider, from Old Mexico
Vaya’… Con Dios’!... Rodrigo

… Now, He Wasn’t Loco in La Cabeza’
I Just Didn’t Comprehende’ … “Que’ Pasa”
But I Saw Rodrigo Atop… El Rojo 
… ! He Rode Like A Latino – Tornado ! …

He Rode El Rojo, To The End…
Then, Turned ‘Round and Rode Him Again…
Rodrigo had Won… Just Like He Planned…
Because El Toro – Rojo …   …  Was Mexican !

La’ Viva’ … Arriva’ … Rodrigo
The Brave and The Bold Caballero
Champion Bull Rider from Old Mexico
Vaya’ … Con Dios ! … Rodrigo….
Vaya’ … Con Dios !... Rodrigo o o o o o


for Ruben Ortellao... 
I Don't Really Know 
What Your Branch of Humanity is... 
(Spanish, French or Other)
But I thought You Might Like 
This Whimsical Poem...  
Oh... And Thank You For Your 
Most Generous Comments... 
(Cause I Know You Are A Fantastic Poet... 
I've Read Several of Yours 
and I Love Them Too...)

 (P.S.  Excuse the Spelling... 
I'm Spanish Illiterate (Smile)
MoonBee


Details | Rhyme | |

My Rodeo Cowboy

papa said 
son what you going to do 
with your life

now that you have 
no money job 
or wife

he said papa
I'm going to 
leave this town

think I'll
join up with the rodeo 
and break them bulls down 

Maybe even rope
me a stallion or
even a clown

Son you better
take another 
look around

for theres no money
for bull riders
thrown to the ground

or being stepped on
by a horse or bull
weighing over eight hundred pounds

Papa I promise 
Ill make you proud
of your rodeo cowboy when I'm done

And promise 
not to be thrown or bucked off
to the ground

So papa please come
visit when our show's
in town

for I'll be 
the one riding high on 
the biggest bull that's found

hanging on for just 
eight seconds while I'm
listening for that bells sound

just kicking those sides
of horses and bulls
jumping up and down

with coming out your
top rodeo champion and
bull rider found



Tribute To
The Rodeo Cowboys 
and Cowgirls


Hang Tough


Details | Lyric | |

Nashville, A Dog Gone Hit,

I left my hometown and didn't much look back,
headed southward bound in my Cowboy Cadillac,
arrived at this store to grab me some snacks,
Yea, they're right about this town, of how it really attracks,

Yea, here in the town called Nashville, where the Grand Ole Opry's on TV,
They say it's the real deal, where upcoming singers need to be,
but I don't do much singing, 'cause the hound dogs howl at me,
though I sure hope it's worth bringing, my songs, for some to see,

I've got them on the internet, downloading them is free,
I haven't had any right connections yet, but I'm hoping patiently,
gonna find me country singer, try to pitch them a dog gone hit, 
like pitching a horseshoe ringer, you know you just can't quit,

Yea, here in the town of Nashville, where the Grand Ole Opry's on TV,
they say it's the real deal, where even writers need to be,
no, I don't do much singing, 'cause the hound dogs howl at me,
but I sure hope it's well worth bringing, my songs, for some to see,

Yea, here in the town of Nashville, where the Grand Ole Opry's on TV,
they say it's the real deal, where upcoming singers hope patiently,
Got some songs to pitch the singers, like me, they just can't quit,
like making a horseshoe ringer, knowing one of them could hit,

I've got them at Poetry Soup, where printing them is free,
log on in, enjoy the view, it's finger friendly as can be,
become a welcomed member, without any sort of fee,
no matter what's your gender, or your nationality,

Yea, here in the town of Nashville, where the Grand Ole Opry's on TV,
they say it's the real deal, where upcoming singers need to be,
Gonna find me a country singer, try to pitch them a dog gone hit,
like throwing a horseshoe ringer, knowing you just can't quit,

Yea, I left my hometown and didn't much look back,
headed southward bound in my Cowboy Cadillac,
arrived at this store to grab me some snacks,
Yea, they're right about this town, of how it really attracks.


Details | Free verse | |

Wind Song, With Birds

The wind
howled ice-cold, clear-sky
lullabies

and awoke the moon,
who gazed, heavy-lidded,
at the stars around her

Leaves and dust
danced sambas and pirouetted
along the desert's river,

who was shivering uncontrollably
while midnight birds
struggled to fly upstream

against the manic,
stinging, musical currents
of turbulence and wonder


Details | I do not know? | |

New York Rodeo

No 8 second ride for these cowboys tonight
As they start in the morning, losing daylight
Their hats are now ties, tethering true
Not breathing in clean air as faces turn blue

Their motive, the green, but not of a pasture
Not men of free will, but now slaves to a master
When the bell rings, it’s chaos, not for a meal
It’s a dog eat dog city, with true faces concealed

They’re just…

Cardboard cowboys in a concrete canyon
Riding steel horses, reigning in their abandon
Letting loose bridles, for no horses they ride
Spending their days, cooped up, deep inside

It’s a sad way
And a sad day
For New York cowboys

Their fishing hole yonder’s now polluted with clutter
As their southern boy drawl’s replaced with a stutter
No chaps and no stirrups, no boots and no jeans
Their lives are now over, at the end of their means

The bull that they ride are the very stories they tell
From wall to wall bouncing, not sitting a spell
They are always in a hurry, no time for the rose
Not much of a cowboy or anything, I s’pose


They’re just…

Cardboard cowboys in a concrete canyon
Riding steel horses, reigning in their abandon
Letting loose bridles, for no horses they ride
Spending their days, cooped up, deep inside

It’s a sad way
And a sad day
For New York cowboys


Details | Lyric | |

That Music In The Band

They play that music in the band.
Them boys in the band.
That sweet playing, honky tonk music.
We hear in the band.

We hear that music in the band.
We hear that music in the band.
That sweet talking, honky tonk music.
We hear in the band.

It keeps us moving around.
They keep us moving to the sound.
Them boys in the band.
They play that music in the band.
That sweet playing, honky tonk music.
We hear in the band.

We hear that music in the band.
We hear that music in the band.
That sweet talking, honky talk music.
We hear in the band.

It keeps us jumping around.
They keep our feet off the ground.
Them boys in the band.
They play that music in the band.
That sweet playing, honky tonk music.
We hear in the band.

We hear that music in the band.
We hear that music in the band.
That sweet talking, honky tonk music.
We hear in the band....

Honky Tonk Song Lyric By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1989.2014..ALL rights reserved..


Details | Lyric | |

-------------------------The Soul I Sold------------


If I seem down forgive me Frowns I carry around live in me When I break you see right through me GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD... The hurt I’ve learned brews in me GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD... Your words so true renew me If only you'd re-design me Take time rewind refine me Recreate the mold without lies I’ve told... GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD... The hurt I’ve learned brews in me GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD....


Details | Rhyme | |

Country Craziness

Getting rowdy--really loud
Hanging with your country crowd
Having fun with lots of laughter
Nothing seems to really matter
Watching sports and swigging bears
All your troubles disappear
Jukebox playing favorite songs
You can dance to all night long
Cowboy hats--Tight fitting jeans
This is such a sexy scene
Hearing yee-haw and y'all
In a southern country drawl
Dresses twirling on the floor
Dancing like never before
Bull riding and betting on
Who will fall off--just for fun
Red solo cups across the bar
Drunken voices yell yee-haw
Some workdays---every weekend
This enjoyment never ends
Through the warm, cold and hot weather
Family and friends get together
For some harmless fun that lasts
Always having such a blast


Details | Cowboy | |

Untitled

Tainted love 
or tired love?
Smug attitudes
and weak games
Look at you!
Your such a lame!
Me cry?! Ha! Not no more!
NOT EVER!
Five point five years
What a joke?!
All you do is lie
Keep smoking your life away!
Wake up before its too late!
Before this love turns into hate!
Your too old to act this way!
Your too comfortable
You cant stay!
In my life!
In my way!
Goodbye to you!!!


Details | Ballad | |

THE MAINTOP BALLADEER

There’s a man I’d like you all to meet whose Aussie through and through,
From his felt hat to his R.M. boots, he ridgy didge, true blue.
He was born in Roma, Queensland, back in nineteen thirty-three
And his parents were from sturdy stock, a pioneer family.
Station life was in this young man’s blood and one can understand
Why he took to writing lyrics based on things he knew first hand;
Those loved tales of some lad’s ‘Silver Spurs’, the ‘Rutland Rodeo’
And ‘A Time When I Was Mustering’ he penned so long ago.

Chorus
Yes, his heart is in his lyrics this tall man from Injune way
And he’s had his songs recorded by top artists in his day.
Yes, Wave Jackson loves his ballads and mate let me make this clear
 He’s admired in music circles as the Maintop Balladeer.


Old Mac Cormack and Joe Daley both wrote lyrics by the score
And along with Wave and Coster … hell  they made an awesome four.
They all had their songs recorded by Slim Dusty through the years
And these men are all respected to this day by all their peers.
Wave continues this tradition and he still writes to this day
And now picks and strums a Maton in the true bush ballad way.
You will find him at most Musters and he’s happy as can be
As today he shares his talents on his very own CD. 

Yes, his heart is in his lyrics this tall man from Injune way                 
And he’s had his songs recorded by top artists in his day.                     
Yes, Wave Jackson loves his ballads and mate let me make this clear          
He’s admired in music circles as the Maintop Balladeer.

Wave has travelled ‘round Australia and he’ll tell you that he’s sold
On the fact there lots of songs out there just waiting to be told.
He then proved this down in Tamworth when he won a gold guitar
And of all his fine achievements it’s the best he says so far.
It has been a wondrous innings for this gentleman of song
And I hope things will continue and his journey will be long.
He’s a real true blue Australian and they are but far and few
And I’m proud to have him as a mate and share his song with you.

Yes, his heart is in his lyrics this tall man from Injune way                 
And he’s had his songs recorded by top artists in his day.                     
Yes, Wave Jackson loves his ballads and mate let me make this clear          
He’s admired in music circles as the Maintop Balladeer.


Details | Quintain (Sicilian) | |

Shut Your Hole !

You could be just a tri polite (Muttered Mario ),

There is a deep meaning in this life/
Yet where does one go to when the storms abound ?
Like to a crazy music store,
Mere music to abound !

They don't really like you !
So shut your hole !
A roll of the dice down at the corner store,
Tony was out in the back sleeping with a whore !

People these days don't even know/
Nor do they think they know,
The whole concept of the role,
Now shut your hole/

Vito was down at the bakery taking stock/
With a switch blade in hand and mop,
See he's an over weight lover from another brother/
Type of home boy lover !

The freak was a shoe shine boy delivering flowers on the side/
Now he's working for Tony at this free kin two bit dive/
Yet thank God that the rest of his friends our still alive !
Now wash those dishes and shut your hole/

Forget about looking outside at the rise of the death toll !


Details | Cowboy | |

April too lenient

comatose commas thought April too lenient; 
birth was postponed until June, 
provided preference for instant coffee 
or selfless gratification, 
minus the flack fouled narcolepsy, 
however insistent … 

cruelty followed, 
as cardboard mansions collapsed under oath, 
if under cardiac-arrest, 
below if not adjacent to, the end, 
regardless of means… 


Details | Ballad | |

PHATTEST GUN IN TOWN

A WAY OUT WEST PHATT IS GOOD
AND BLING-BLING IS FANCY STUFF
THEM COWBOYS THERE DRESS REAL FINE
CAUSE THE WORK OUT THERE AINT ROUGH


I WENT OUT WEST TO SEE THE SIGHTS
AND LORDY THEY WAS  FINE
COWBOYS THERE RIDE IN LIMOSENES
THEM COWBOYS THERE DRINK WINE

I MET UP WITH THIS FANCY COWBOY
DOWNTOWN ON RODEO DRIVE
HE HAD A PRETTY GIRL ON EACH ARM
AND BROTHER THEY WAS FINE

HIS HAT HE SAID WAS MADE OF FAUX
IT LOOKED LIKE RABBIT FUR TO ME
THE HATBAND WAS COVERED WITH DIAMONDS
AND PEACOCK FEATHERS FANCY AS COULD BE

HE’S THE PHATTEST GUN IN TOWN
HE’S THE PHATTEST GUN IN TOWN
BLING-BLING FROM HIS HEAD TO HIS TOES
HE’S THE PHATTEST GUN IN TOWN

HIS SHIRT WAS MADE OF JAPAN SILK 
WITH BUTTONS MADE OF PEARLS
HE WORE A FANCY GOLDEN BUCKLE
THAT SAID MY NAME IS EARLE

HE WORE TWO PEARL HANDLED PISTOLS
SLUNG DOWN LOW ON HIS WAIST
ONE WAS A FANCY CIGAR LIGHTER
THE OTHER HOLDS BRANDY JUST A TASTE 

CHORUS

HE SAID HEY BRO YOUR NEW IN TOWN
ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A DATE
THESE GIRLS WILL SHOW YOU A REAL GOOD TIME
GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM AND WAIT

I LOOKED AT HIM AND THEN AT THEM
AND THEN I JUST SAID NO
MY WIFE IS WAITIN’ BACK AT THE RANCH
AND I REALLY GOT TO GO

CHORUS



Details | Cowboy | |

The North Missouri Wind

Oh, you’ve ridden long all over this country,
Till it seemed like this ol’ ride would never end—
But in all those far places you never heard
The soft music of the north Missouri wind.

It whispers to your soul; rattles in your mind—
It haunts you now like a place you’ve never been—
It whistles in your ear, tells you many things—
It delves into your heart; slides beneath your skin.

Your ol’ horse and friends do not even notice
As you ponder if this is how it will end—
While you nod and smile and just keep ridin’
To that music of the north Missouri wind.


Details | Rhyme | |

UNCHANGED HABITS- THE ASPIRING VOCALIST

UNCHANGED HABITS


Recently, I promised myself to make drastic changes;
again, I have fallen into yesterday's habits.
So unchanged they seem as my esteem:
they must be controlling my rebelling genes,
but making changes isn't for the better, I deem.
So unchanged they seem as my esteem;
again, I have fallen into yesterday's habits...
recently, I promised myself to make drastic changes.



THE ASPIRING VOCALIST


He had an aspiration for greatness that could have blossomed into realized dreams;
he headed to New York City wearing shining boots and tight, faded blue jeans,
" He's a real Texan cowboy! " someone shouted in the noisy athmosphere... 
and he accidentally heard that with surprise and it sounded pleasant to his ear.
He had talent and was seeking a vocalist's job, singing on Broadway's streets.
" He's a real Texan cowboy! " someone shouted in the noisy athmosphere. 
He headed to New York City wearing shining booths and tight, faded blue jeans;
he had an aspiration for greatness that could have blossomed into realized dreams.


Entered in David William's contest,
" Palindrome Mad "
Written by Andrew Crisci




 






Details | Rhyme | |

Blue Eys Blake

Wrote this for the biggest Blake Shelton Fan contest

With a "Hillbilly Bone" down deep inside
There is no way Blake can hide
How country that he can be
He's a little "Honey Bee"
With eyes that are bright and blue
Singing with a voice so true
Serenading wife Miranda
They cuddle on the cabana
"The More He Drinks" it gets crazy
All his thoughts become so hazy
But "On A Good Day"
Miranda's "Love Get's In The Way"
With a love that's coming true
She whispers "God Gave Me You"
A "White Christmas" there will be
As kids gather around the tree
"Night Before Christmas" being read
Kids question every line that's said
Troops are always on his mind
He writes songs so sweet and kind
Wishing them "Home" everywhere
Showing just how much he cares
A proud and loving grandson
He remembers "Granddaddy's Gun"
He takes care of with such grace
A smile shines upon his face
He is full of fun and smiles
Always wearing different styles
He's "The Baby" of his mom
She has lots of special charm
No matter how far he roams
Its "Always Time For Him To Come Home"
A cowboy with lots of class
Who says "Kiss My Country Ass"
If you don't like what he stands for
He will fight and he will claw
With his friend Toby so true
Courtesy Of The Red White And Blue


Details | Rhyme | |

Country Artist Rule My Heart

There's a contest I will enter
Who's topic is to center
About the artists I like best
I'll put my poem skills to the test
Rascal Flatts is one group
In the country music loop
With hit songs that top the charts
Sad or funny touch my heart
Videos that go so well
With lyrical stories they tell
Luke Bryan is cowboy hot
He is always looking smart
With his sexy jeans and looks
Just one glance and I am hooked
His voice is sweet and so mellow
It turns this girl fan to jello
Blake Shelton's another guy
Who is not exactly shy
At being sexily cool
Making this "old" woman drool
His music is perfection 
He is my daily obsession
There are other country artists
Who might not have made my top list
But also get my attention
There are too many to mention
I have to get my country fix
With different artists in the mix
Not one day will pass me by
That I don't laugh or sometimes cry
With these great artists I've written
Who will always have me smitten


For Favorite Artist Contest
3/24/2014


Details | Ballade | |

Blood - Brothers

I Hear Drum-Beats Across The Land… Can You Hear It?
All Our Homes Are Handed Down by The Highest Spirit
Long-Ago, The Native Peoples of The Land
Knew… The Earth and Us – Go Hand in Hand

I Hear Hoof-Beats Across The Land… Can You Hear It?
Its Not The Buffalo or Antelope – Who Grew To Fear It
Its Battles of Braves and Soldiers – Both Grim Reapers
Can’t Forget… We ‘Are’ Our Brother’s Keeper…

         Blood – Brothers
… We Are Blood-Bound To Love
         Blood – Brothers
We Are Blood – Brothers Of
All Sons and Daughters of Mankind
The Great Spirit Binds…
      … Blood – Brothers

I Heard Hate – Beat Down The Land… Did You Hear It?
Pollution and Persecution… Its Time To Cure It
End Our Journey On The Trail of Tears
With Broken Arrows and Rivers – Running Clear

I Hear Heartbeats Across The Land… Can You Hear It?
If You Turn and Face The Wind… You Are Near It
It Pounds Deeper Than The Skin, Or A Flood
It Echoes To All …  Its In Our Blood !

        Blood – Brothers
… We Are Blood – Bound To Love
        Blood – Brothers
We Are Blood – Brothers Of
All Sons and Daughters Of Mankind
The Great Spirit Binds…
      … Blood – Brothers

              * * * * *
The Eagle Flies On The Breath Of Life
         And So Do You
May The Blue Sky And Your Clear Eye
         See Many More Moons

Keepers Of The Earth… Guard This Turf
        And Each Other
For Every Human Birth… Has Worth
         As A Blood – Brother

For Those Killed and Blood Spilled
         The Ground Cries
Soaks The Dust… And Curses Us
         When A Brother Dies…

          Blood – Brother …


Details | Ballad | |

THEY DONT WRITE COUNTRY SONGS LIKE THEY USE TO

They dont write country music  like they use to.
About love gone wrong, nothing more to lose
No They dont write country SONGS like they use to.
About moma,trains and booze.

Old HANK would turn over in his grave,.
if he heard the songs of today.
The country songs of today, dont seem to last.
Like the old country classic songs of the past.

Times has change,the songs of today are new and strange
There not like the songs we all knew
No they dont write country songs like they use to.
So we can all sing to.
Its sad,but it is true.
They dont write country songs like they use to


Details | Ballad | |

Never the Same

His fingers traced the cold hard rock  of a now silent name,
Of a father he knew, a man he would not. No one to take the blame
His childhood changed a man yet to be, he cried for his loss and pain
Through the silence that followed, he walked away,
He’d never be the same.

He would come calling on the ladies, yet whiskey was his date,
Taking his hand, calling his name she numbed his futures fate
With her, soothing, smooth moving liquid she’d guide him through the night
She left him wanting more of her, to change his life insight.
With a cold ring of glass she called to him beckoning him to follow
He had married a bottle of comfort to fill his heart so hollow.
With every swallow, he would hear her call his name,
He tried to drink her into his soul,
He’d never be the same.

In his sorrow of tomorrow and the day that follows that,
He could only weep and borrow, self pity where he sat,
When on the midnight moon he heard a whisper on the breeze,
The bending of guitar strings, like bending of willow trees.
Caressing, addressing, assessing time itself,
Feeling healing, sealing wounds made on ones self.
He became one with the music and to himself wholeness came
As he learned to pick those guitar strings,
He never was the same.

One night a woman sat before him a whisper on her lips,
On a stage in a place that he played for tips
As she listen to his guitar, his sober fingers played
As he strummed another tune, his eyes upon her laid.
As she smiled up at him now his futures fate untold
Lay with in those days as lifes beauty started to unfold.
A year had passed since she first heard him play
Marriage and a chance to live every day
But when his son was born a prayer of thank came
For he folded his hands and bowed his head 
He would never be the same






Details | Rhyme | |

Country Singers

I'd like to tell a story,
About country singers of my day.
They had lots to sing about,
They had a lot to say.
Webb Pierce was from Nashville,
He sang right from the heart,
Hank Snow from Nova Scotia,
Was moving from the start.
Lefty was a great one,
William's made it big.
George Jones we often heard,
Didn’t make it to a gig.
Horton left us early,
Patsy Cline, she did so too.
Chet Atkins played a mean guitar,
Kitty Wells, stuck like glue.
Only just a few I've named,
Their fame will never die,
Statler brothers, Oak Ridge boys,
I love you, it's no lie.


Details | Cowboy | |

The Return of Dan McGrew

Some of the local thugs were tipping their mugs in the Malamute Saloon;
The music box sat still, as the keep slammed the till and wolves howled at the moon.
Then there appeared, right back of the bar, an apparition that no one knew;
Down in the dumps, that once Queen of the Trumps, sat the lady known as Lou.

It had been thirty years to the day it appears, that the famed shooting took place,
As Lou saw the scar on the man by the bar, she slowly recognized his face;
She quickly clutched at her throat for he had gotten her goat as she turned blue;
Because for all the world, playing a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew.
The now old man that plays the music box was starting a sad waltz song,
When in drifted a miner cold from the creeks that had prospected much too long.

Though most of the gold had long left the fold, a miner’s dust still had some joys,
He relished his women, booze and smokes, and bought drinks all around for the boys.
His eyes were the eyes of a man half-dead – a man that the world’s forgotten;
And Lou did think she’d seen him before, but lately her memory was rotten.
He toasted her health and counted his wealth, then drank long with that sodden crew;
And we wished him good cheer, then hoisted our beer to Dangerous Dan McGrew.

(cont.)


Details | Ballad | |

The Cowboy

                 

Her heart was breaking as she stepped into the bar,
This time her cowboy had pushed her just a little too far.
The neon lights seemed to be calling as the music took it its toll,
Pour me a couple of them little shooters I feel I’m on a roll.

The music was inviting as she watched the couples dance,
Until she met this cowboy who held her in his trance.
She still had on her wedding ring as they danced across the floor,
This cowboy had ill intentions as he danced her to the door.

He said let’s go get some air as casual as that,
She said I’m sorry cowboy I just don’t like the color of your hat.
She turned to walk back in but he grabbed a hold of her,
She said you best be turning loose or else you’ll feel my angry spur.

He turned her loose right then and there this girl with golden hair,
When right behind her stood her cowboy whom she’d thought had been unfair.
He said I’ve come to take you home, and I’m sorry for what I said,
But you’re just so gosh durn pretty I git messed up in my haid.

She said you are my cowboy I’ve got my brand on you,
But you’re gonna have to loosen up on them reins when I ask you to.
He said you got yourself a deal I’ll give it all I’ve got,
No more roping or the rodeos cause honey making you happy truly means a lot.

He grabbed up his little filly and sat her in his truck,
And told her that he loved her and with him she was stuck.
They rode off into the sunset,
This story had a good ending so listen don’t you fret.


Details | Cowboy | |

The Music of Memories

A gray and black life sketch – small man in overalls—
Somber as his guitar, lifted high all those times—
Playing Ozark tunes with those wild figure-eight squalls—
Glasses glint raw reason as that happiness chimes.

Oh, play to us softly those songs of our fathers—
The tales of the Old West and those last cattle drives—
Oh, play for us gently, the sons and the daughters—
The music of memories that molded our lives.

Music rests in remembrance and lingers on winds—
It wasn’t merely one – it was many guitars—
Whispering that bright music like long scattered friends—
Quilting its melodies in our lives and the stars.  

Oh, play to us softly those songs of our fathers—
The tales of the Old West and those last cattle drives—
Oh, play for us gently, the sons and the daughters—
The music of memories that molded our lives.

Reunions bring photographs with smudges and frays:
Dad and his first cousin in that photo still clear—
They strummed and they fiddled all those songs of past days—
As we cherished our friends and held family near. 

Oh, play to us softly those songs of our fathers—
The tales of the Old West and those last cattle drives—
Oh, play for us gently, the sons and the daughters—
The music of memories that molded our lives.


Details | Free verse | |

Down South Girl

There's a country girl,
Down south I know,
And she writes some
Incredible music,
I'm tellin' you so...

I'm a NYC musician,
Been at it for a while,
Played many a gig,
But never with the style,
Of this gal I know

This Alabama darling
With talent I adore,
I could listen for hours,
And keep asking for more...

I'm an R & B man,
And play that classic rock,
But when I heard her song,
I almost went into shock...

Now, I can make my Hammond B3,
Growl and spit and hiss..
I can improvise as good,
As many think is bliss...

But this country Christy
Opened up my eyes,
Though not a country player,
I was hypnotized...

So keep your ears open,
There's a new talent here today,
And Nashville is yet,
To see their finest day!


Details | Lyric | |

lonely traveler

traveling with no lady
i dont have no baby
my passenger seat is empty
headin to my folks house
headin to the country
right now im feelin lonely

i want a love that i dream
i wish i had a lady with me
who i can love and share everything..

"but they call me the"

lonely traveler..
lonely traveler..
i need a lady to come home to
i want to share my love with you

"but the call me the"

lonely traveler..
lonely traveler..
my passenger seat is empty
i have no lady traveling with me
"im lonely"

i need someone
to fill the other part of me
i need a lady
to give me what i need

i need a travaleet
i need a juliet
this traveler is so lonely

"but they call me the"

lonely traveler..
lonely traveler..
i need a lady to come home to
i want to share my love with you

"but they call me the"

lonely traveler..
lonely traveler..
my passenger seat is empty
i have no lady traveling with me
"im lonely"

while im crusin down the rode
"as you can see"
she's flaggin down me
sexy lady ive never seen
she wants to take a ride with me
she asked me whats my name
"i said"
they call me
they call me...

the lonely traveler..
lonely traveler..
my passenger seat was empty
until you fill the other part of me

they call me the...
lonely traveler


Details | Cowboy | |

Mountain Mandolin

Its mournful melodies come drifting
Through the valley and the glen,
Those last haunting , misting memories 
Of the mountain mandolin.

A jaunty jew’s-harp joins along now
Like a lonesome loud amen,
While a fiddle fades and then rises
With that mountain mandolin.

Then the bass moans of an old cowboy
Who in rage shot his best friend,
As that band of long ago plays on
Like soft thunder in the wind.

Yet, one by one those cowboys drift off
As we still remember when
And we join that dying orchestra
Lead by that mountain mandolin.