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Cowboy Political Poems | Cowboy Poems About Political

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

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Details | Cowboy | |

Too Far From the Trail

Has America’s spirit strayed off the trail?
Have we found what’s in every canyon
Or have we failed?

Will we let the bad guys win and try no more?
See Lady Liberty as something
To just deplore?

Have we seen the elephant grow soft and weak
As the donkey only sits and brays,
But does not speak

Or see the wild anger in our horse’s eyes
As they promise us those gold cities
And tell more lies.

America has strayed too far off the trail—
We wait a great judgment from the West
Cloaked in black veil.


Details | Rhyme | |

The flying censor shipment

Unlike the newspeak of today                                                                                           the media rodeo plays the bull                                                                                         clowns chasing a scripted  delay                                                                                       boxed up and ready to go fast food for the loll                                                                   the upper end following the lower end                                                                            Yet political satire's even keel will transcend                                                              while the real bull gores the clowns                                                                                 He can be ornery when being contained                                                                            coming like a federal expess roaring down                                                                        newsmail bringing the letter restrained                                                                             the same package to every town the same                                                                        package of the willing consripts freight                                                                              in the End a older railing bull holds his own wieght


Details | Cowboy | |

Stalker of the Chaparal

			Stalker of the Chaparral




O you wild horned beast
You stalker of the Chaparral
Your meat is wanted for the East
So, heed to the cowboy’s call.

They say a country is built
Upon the steel lines of the railroad,
And big men of finance
Or the land where cotton grow’d

It is understandable why they think
Not of the Stalker of the Chaparral
With his lances of Ivory and
Heeds not to the wild cowboy’s call

For those who writ history and
Will sit upon their cushioned chairs
And will scoff at you with scorn 
For your greatness they do not care

For they hate those wild and wooly 
Hunters of the Stalkers of the Chaparral
With his lances of Ivory and
Heeds not to the wild cowboy’s call

In later years of this land
They will try to lessen
You r importance and necessity
In this country of men

They will turn their backs on you 
Expecting you to be there for them
As they take Freedom away
But their corruption and lust will consume them

For brick and mortar will crumble 
As evil consumes it’s self in hate
Bringing down their house of cards 
This will be their fate

So, you and I old friend
O’ Stalker of the Chaparral 
With your lances of ivory
 And, please hear my cowboy call.


Let those who don’t understand
Your freedom, Independence and spirit
Lust for control and hollow power
For this is what lies within their spirit.

So, stay free and wild my friend
O’ Lone Stalker of the Chaparral
With your lances of Ivory
And Heed not my wild cowboy call.	


Details | Cowboy | |

It Used To Be An Open Range

In these dark days of war and death, in these days of turmoil and change—
In these days of political correctness, it sure does seem strange,
How once we did what we wanted – it used to be an open range.

I know now how it must have felt when they strung the range with barbed wire—
An era ended on those plains; the land and men put up for hire—
A way of life and freedom gone – a hard rain that put out the fire.

And nowadays in word and rhyme, it seems poets are all fenced in—
To write of history and yesterday, just seem to be a sin—
They only want these modern ranching times and not those way back when.

We know the world has changed a lot and all our freedoms have a cost—
It seems liberties’ now another word that comes each year with frost,
As mournfully we gaze on sunsets and dream back on all we’ve lost.

So hoist another cup of Joe and raise your drink for one last toast—
Like phantom bison and wild horses, our free ways give up the ghost
And sadly we lean back in saddles and lose the thing we love most. 

In these dark days of war and death, in these days of turmoil and change—
In these days of political correctness, it sure does seem strange,
How once we did what we wanted – it used to be an open range.