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Cowboy Time Poems | Cowboy Poems About Time

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

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Details | Quatrain | |

Heritage

The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call it ‘home’, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.

Today I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.

This mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.

The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when…
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand
Our link with those who came before, to heritage an' land.

A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But as the morning went along the reason got real clear.
They rode along with me that day to show me things I’ve missed,
The things I’ve seen a thousand times an’ some I’d just dismissed.

Those wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.

The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.

At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made’s been feedin' us a half-a-million years,
An' used it's wonder, force an' change to challenge pioneers.

I do not know if they'll return or if they’ll feel the need,
But I’m prepared to ride the trail, where ever it may lead.
We all are spirits ridin’ time with bodies of the Earth,
Whose time has come to take the reins an’ offer up our worth.

The land has been the legacy we cultivate an’ reap,
The life has been the heritage our father’s fought to keep,
An’ we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To put our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.


Details | Verse | |

The Winds of Time

One day I was passing time
And wrote these words upon the lines,
I know not where they came you see
The Winds of Time were there for me.

If I could open a door to the past
And there before me were the paths
I'm not quite sure which I would choose
But The Winds of Time would see me through.

The vastness there before God's Hand
Then came the heavens, the seas, the land
Eden, Noah and the Christ Child's birth
Is the path that I see first.

I'm not into Knights or dragon days,
Nor Robin Hood and his saving ways,
But give me a Viking as he crosses the seas
And I'll dream of the lands so wild and free.

The music of Irland calls to me,
Where Kathleen's heart has ever been,
And for Danny Boy the fifes do call
I'll shed my tears lest he should fall.

As Immigrants touched upon our shores
The Indians prepared to fight once more,
But fate stepped in and eased the sore
They'd live in peace forever more.

The  battles fought upon this land
To protect us from Tierney's hand,
The Civil War for Freedom's right
The Alamo where comrades died.

At Little Big Horn where our soldiers died,
As Indians defend their homes with pride,
The government later took a hand
And put them on Reservation land. 

I remember well, when I was quite young
The days of World War II
And how my father's life did change
When the family business he assumed.

Twenty-four seven was unheard of then,
But that was their working day,
They helped keep our nations trucks on the road
Their battlefield was here in the USA.

I'll choose the path with pastures green,
Horses, cattle and the cowboy scene,
This is the land of my mother's birth
The most precious land to me on earth.

I chose this land and took a stand,
Married a cowboy and we ranched the land.
Though now retired and family gone
This land will always be our home.

The Winds of Time, know well my soul
I'll rest at night with days of yore.
And as I wake a prayer I'll say
Please God, may we have Peace today?

                       Cile Beer


Details | Cowboy | |

All Hat and No Cattle

They hung around the beer joint with the finest Western wear
With thumbs tucked in their belt loops and such a studly air
But those boots weren't made for stirrups and were polished to a sheen
And on those fancy cowboy hats not a sweat stain could be seen

You could be sure they hadn't spent much time around a branding pot
For the only brands they recognized were ones on stuff they bought
And if they ever passed the time just musing 'bout their spread
I'd be the one around their middle or the one they put on bread

Just a bunch of blowhard braggarts in a cowboy masquerade
But they had the biggest pickup trucks that Detroit ever made
The beds were big and beautiful without a scratch or scuff inside
'Cause the only thing they hauled around was a horse's big backside

As they stood around outside the joint, in a smart-ass state of mind
In pulled an ancient pickup with an old horse trailer hitched behind
The truck an old green Chevy, year 'bout nineteen sixty-nine
With two high wooden sideboards and hay bales bound with twine

Out stepped a skinny hombre, with steel-blue eyes and bandy legs
But he had a rippling six-pack while all the boozers sported kegs
His cowboy hat was sweat-stained, high-heeled boots were dusty gray
He kicked off a chunk of cow pie, then he grabbed a bale of hay

He was mighty parched and dusty, but he wouldn't quench his thirst
'Cause you're not an honest cowboy unless you water horses first
The pack of fools gave out a hoot, yelled "Hey there, Texas Pete!
Get yourself a man-sized truck and take that geezer off the street!"

As he finished with the horses, up walked two ladies smokin' hot
The cowboy promptly doffed his hat, while the posers there did not
The cowboy got a long admiring look and the rounders just a sneer
As the sham was so apparent when a real cowboy was near

They flashed the dusty cowboy a big ol' smile 'bout ten miles wide 
Said "Honey, would a gent like you care to escort us gals inside?"
He winked, then gave the trucks a look and spat a stream of juice
Said, "Boys, y'all's might be bigger, but mine gets a sight more use."


Details | Couplet | |

A Bull Rider's Heart

We are all so young,,, even the ‘old hands’
Imagining a time with no bull rope is hard to plan
 
It’s riding with a heart and unflagging spirit revealed
That’s a most fitting description of what’s usually concealed
 
The dream most have had since they were born
About riding horses, bulls, and such without scorn
 
It’s about the ride, that 8 seconds of time
That lead you and the bull to a place uniquely sublime
 
Riding bulls or whatever, it really don’t matter
As long as your heart, your family, and your thoughts aren’t scattered
 
Whether it’s the big show or not, you really don’t mind
You’d ride a milk cow if she’d fly out the gate, so inclined.
 
So even if you ride for the money, or the fame
No matter what you draw, you look for no blame
 
Because even though bones, and tendons are often broken
And if you’re deemed old because your thirty something year is now unspoken
 
It’s really the heart that prevails when the body can’t follow
And provides that last 8 seconds, that make you feel less hollow
 
And,,, when someday your heart and mind don’t yearn for the ride,
It’s time to reflect and possibly stand off to the side.
 
Life doesn’t end for there’s still plenty to do
There is always a new bull rider that wants to be you
 
They may need a hand, and inspiration or two
And a true bull rider’s heart is to return the gift given you.


Details | Lyric | |

Yard Sale Cowboy On CD

From here to wherever, I'll follow a yard sale sign,
it's a past time endeavor, for my collective state of mind,
I may buy some furniture, or a trinket for a dime,
yard saling is a pleasure, yes, a personal hobby of mine,

Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, on the trail of search and find,
and it gives me great joy, to see a yard sale sign,
from here to wherever, cloudy days or sunshine,
I'm searching for that treasure, ain't no telling what I'll find,

I may find brand new things, boots, shoes, or clothes the right size,
silver and gold chains or rings, or an antique will catch my eyes,
I could find my brother a nice bass lure, or a spool of fishing line,
or maybe a nice piece of furniture, or something for a friend of mine,

Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, on the trail of search and find,
and it gives me great joy, to see a yard sale sign,
It's a past time endeavor, for my collective state of mind,
Yard saling is a pleasure, ain't no telling what I"ll find,

Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, I just spotted a yard sale sign,
searching is a pleasuree, ain't no telling what I'll find,
I may find an old bass lure, or a spool of fishing line,
now one thing is for sure, I just found my cat a ball of twine,
and look here, I found my ol' dog a bone to grind,

Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, on the trail of search and find,
I may find an old bass lure, or a spool of fishing line,
from here to wherever, cloudy days or sunshsine,
I'm a yard sale cowboy, on the trail of search and find,
Yea, I'm a yard sale cowboy, ain't no telling what I'll find,

Hey Bud, how much for that there what-cha-ma-call-it?
Naw Naw, Naw, that there thing-a-ma-jig, there next to that do-ma-flitchie,
Yea, Yea, that thinga-ma-jig right there.....ya say three dollars..um-m-m..OK...
I'll take it...here ya go.....and how much for that do-daddy over there?
Yea, yea, right next to those 2 onion skin tires...Uh Huh..yea..well I'll be..
Well yea..I'll take it too...it's something I just can't live without...ha ha ha..


Details | Light Poetry | |

Its Christmas Time in Dodge City

(To the tune of Silver Bells) Wooden sidewalks, and the shop fronts, Dressed in wild western style In the jail there’s a feeling of Christmas Cattle mooing, cowboys shooting Riding mile after mile And down at the Long Branch you hear Silver spurs, silver spurs It’s Christmas time in Dodge City Jing-a-ling, saloon girls sing Soon it will be Christmas day. Mobs in street fights try to stay polite While they bleed red and scream As the towns folk rush home To take cover Hear the jaws crunch See the kids bunch It’s Matt Dillon’s big scene As he catches the rustlers you’ll hear Silver spurs, silver spurs It’s Christmas time in Dodge City Jing-a-ling, saloon girls sing Soon it will be Christmas day. Silver spurs, silver spurs Soon it will be Christmas day. Soon it will be Christmas day.
When we travel in the car we sing to the radio. The other night, Silver Bells came on and I sang Dodge City to make my wife laugh.


Details | Rhyme | |

Chow Time On The Range

"Rise an' shine you lazy cowpokes!  Time to saddle up yer hoss!
Time to move them moo-cows to summer range!" yelled th' trail boss!
"You've lolled around here all winter, now it's time to earn yer pay!
Jump in yer jeans, pull on them boots an' let's git 'er underway!"

All winter long they'd grown fat in th' bunkhouse eatin' Cooky's fare,
But knowin' that on that long, dusty trail, grub could be mighty spare!
How they'd long fer good ol' gut-fillin' grub as they wuz mendin' fences,
An' roundin' up them wily dogies roamin' over God's vast expanses!

Come supper time th' cowpunchers would lounge about a blazin' far,
Smokin' roll-yer-owns, chewin' th' fat an' nursin' cuts frum bobbed war!
Thankin' th' Lord fer their grub, Cooky yelled, "Come an' git 'er fellers!
Ain't much, but me an' my ol' Dutch oven done purty good!" he bellers!

Th' menu never varied but they knew better'n to complain about his cuisine,
Er Cooky could be as grumpy as a rattlesnake er a disgruntled wolverine!
Ever' supper consisted uv th' same ol' thing - a classic case uv deja vu:
Beans, spuds, bacon, sour dough biscuits an' a dollop uv mystery stew!

Frum across th' valley a harmonica's melancholy tune wuz heard,
As th' night guard kept a wary vigil an' soothed th' restless herd.
Th' cowpokes dreamt uv a hearty breakfast but they already knew,
It'd be beans, spuds, bacon, sour dough biscuits an' a dollop uv mystery stew!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved


Details | Cowboy | |

Condo Cowboys

Those condo cowboys are clingin’ to things that used to be,
Starin’ out those city windows or sittin’ on balconies.
They can still smell the country, the ranch, the horses and the range—
At times they wear cowboy hats, though folks might think them strange.

And like those cowboys long ago, they’re roamin’ in their soul,
From Nevada, Arizona and old Colorado.
They’ve seen and done so many things that most can only dream,
Yet still they have the urge to cross one more mountain stream.

But now they’re just old cowboys, that’s all that they want to be,
They seek no big fortune, high status or fine pedigree.
They see the world too clearly, seldom hold or mince their speech,
They live the cowboy code and keep life’s truth within their reach.

Those condo cowboys are special, each one from a unique mold,
They just keep on ridin’ life’s long trail and never do grow old.


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 | Cowboy | |

Time Flies

Wearing Daddy's boots & cowboy hat & not much in between
Why, Momma, ain't she just about the prettiest baby you've ever seen?
I'm sure wishing she was talking, reading her mind is quite a trick
And she's sure getting awful heavy, I hope she's walking quick 

Whoa there, sassy, Momma look at her running wild
Why I am not sure there ever was a more rambunctious child
Life sure was a picnic when we could just bundle her up & go
Now I get tuckered just watching her, she's a pint size dynamo 

Waist length braids, a gap tooth grin & freckled face
That's our girl, Momma, her calf just took first place
How old is she now, six? No, she can't possibly be eight
Seems she is growing up faster than I'd anticipate 

Well I'll be, look at her standing on the stairs
in a fancy gown, heels & make up putting on womanly airs
this young girl looking back at me, yesterday she was only seven
Now there's a young buck staring at her like he's just seen heaven
 
Wearing a cap & gown, her diploma held high
Look, Momma, there's our girl, getting ready to give her wings a try
Wasn't it just yesterday she was afraid of the monsters under the bed?
Now she's off to college, her own path to tread

Wearing Grandma's pearls & a gown of antique white
Now, Momma, don't start fussing, everything will be all right
Wasn't it just yesterday, I was wishing she was talking?
Now the music is playing & down the aisle we're walking 

Wearing Grandpa's boots & cowboy hat & nothing in between
Why Grandma ain't that the prettiest grandbaby you've ever seen?
Now listen, Sassy, don't go wishing for her to grow up so fast
Treasure each & every moment, create a memory to last 

Be mindful of what you wish for when your babes are small
For in just the blink of an eye, they won't be small at all
You dream of turning back the clock & know you never will
For time flies, just as surely as you wish it would stand still 


Details | Cowboy | |

I'll Go a Ridin' No More

I’ll go a ridin’ no more through blue stem or chaparral,
Just lead my horse to pastures of green.
I’ll watch those rose ruby suns ease on past the ol’ corral—
Think back on the things I’ve done and seen.

Oh, you can’t go on a ridin’ for all your livelong days—
You’ve got to know when to settle down.
You’ll gently pet your ol’ horse as you put her out to graze
And soon life won’t seem so bad in town.

But when blue bonnets and the high plains send their callin’ card,
Your restless feet start to feel that itch.
Then it don’t matter if you’re stove-up or your butt is lard—
That feelin’ calls to the poor and rich.

Just once more I’ll go a ridin’ in the sorrel and sage—
Testin’ my ol’ horse for all it’s worth.
And I know that time cannot stop me, even at my age,
From ridin’ free of the reins of earth. 


Details | I do not know? | |

A Gunfighters Fate

Some folks feel like Jesse James got a raw deal,
just because he had an affinity and liked to rob and kill.
His ended up a tragic story I reluctantly have to relate;
He trusted one of his gang and suffered a gunfighter’s fate.

Jesse was shot in the back by one of his friends Robert Ford,
giving credence to the saying about living and dying by the sword.
Mr. Ford duly received a fatal shotgun blast up in Colorado State
And likewise he also suffered a gunfighter’s fate.

 Billy The Kid was a killer who lived a life of crime,
he was shot by Pat Garrett who was his friend at one time 
Then Pat himself was gunned down at a later date.
So eventually he too suffered a gunfighter’s fate.

 Outlaws who lived by the gun, reaped just what they sowed.
It was their choice to live and die by the gunfighter’s code.
Most of them had no desire to make any effort to go straight
So sooner or later they all suffered a gunfighter’s fate.

 Even to survive was a curse, because as the killers grew older.
They spent a lot of time nervously looking back over their shoulder.
Some would even move away to escape the life they learned to hate,
But they were usually recognized and suffered a gunfighter’s fate.

So when a person chose to ride down the lawless outlaw trail
They usually ended hanging from a rope or spending their life in jail.
 A lot of them made bad choices and ended up being buzzard bait,
because it was in their destiny to suffer a gunfighter’s fate.
 
 
 
 
 
 


Details | Free verse | |

Canceled

         I closed my eyes and tried to forget the way you smiled and those dark 
mysterious eyes.

 You touched my soul and I just wanted you to know that. You blew my 
mind for so many years and now I feel so alone.

 I cancelled you so long ago, I swore that this was finished. But the only thing that was 
ever finished was a lie and I swore to my heart that it didn't.

 Didn't beat every time I saw you, Didn't tip every time you smiled. Didn't trip over 
myself every time I pretend that I wasn't.

 It was all a lie and I couldn't control the fact that I wanted you, every part of you 
and more. 

I would sneak little glances at you out of the corner of my eyes, Remember 
that i'm not confident at times I can be kind of shy.

 I wanted this to be secret but it was just waiting to burst out, and as the years went 
by I find myself dying to see you once again. Is that you I see on the train? I shiver 
just at the thought. 

How many times am I gonna flip when it wasn't even you just a look alike.

 This has to tell me something this has to be a sign, If I ever saw you again I would 
jump off a cliff so high.

 But then again I remember you were supposed to be cancelled that's 
what I told all my friends.

 You were no longer viewing in my mind, A past show, just 
some long road that i'd done traveled. 

It wasn't until some time later that a friend 
whispered in my ear, she told me that you were doing ok and then the feelings 
started to surface again.

 God I yelled at myself can you be anymore pathetic... I wasn't going out like that this 
is the last time I write about this person.

 I smile knowing that this poem is just the third of many... cancelled? It would never be 
fully over in my mind, I mean a girl has to have her fantasies.


Details | Cowboy | |

The Waxed Coat Man

In crackled tintypes bent with long ago,
Amid flaxen sunset and skies of cherry—
In worn leather-carved ancient scenario,
He dare not lie in milkweed prairie.

He rides resolute toward that sweat-tinged fame,
Always the heart’s hero of our once young eye,
As pale ivory range sighs softly his name
And we all know the real reason why.

It is high sage country that he will ride,
As that tin sun burns alabaster away—
And new birthed rains roll off his cow rancher hide,
So his soft summer’s mirage will stay.

Some see him crude – of but limited worth—
Lacking pure knowledge or certain savoir-faire—
But born of bone plain, he is of no fool’s birth—
A force of nature that’s always there. 

From coat’s patina past years slide, of course,
As lines are spurred so deep into his Sphinx face—
But he’d rather be poised high atop his horse
In no other country, time or place.

His heritage is long – it’s here he’ll die—
He rides his own land in cruel spring rains and snows—
And like that wax jacket, he’ll keep his hopes dry,
Because ranching is all that he knows.


Details | Cowboy | |

No One Knows Where the Longhorn Goes

No one knows where the longhorn goes,
When his breed is scattered and few—
He once was king of the cattle ring,
But his time in this world is through. 

We all must go where longhorns go,
When the bone moon falls from the sky—
We will not hide when we ride no more
And the longhorn goes off to die.

Our land must be where longhorns live—
Where we all seek our destiny—
This once was land still full of sand
With longhorns far as you could see. 

We all must dream what cowboys dreamt
When they looked out upon the West—
We all should lead the life we need
As we follow the trail that’s best.

We all must go where longhorns grazed
On a ride through the green grass sea—
We all must lead and protect our creed—
But most of all, we should be free.

The path is hard, but we will climb
Up that hill where the longhorn goes—
Though the trail is long, it is not wrong, 
When we know what the longhorn knows.   


Details | Cowboy | |

Borrowed time


 
God shows us tht our life we live is 
borrowed 
To live ur life cuz ur not gauranteed 
tomorrow
he recently made a mistake tht 
forever changed our life   
He took away my cousin after only 
12 yrs of life  
well never get chance to   to see wht 
he could b
y take away good people tht this 
world really  needs       
So many people choose to live the 
wrong way
They take life they were givin for 
granted every day         
I dont kno if I can ever move on and  
forgive 
that cuz his mistake my cousins life 
wa short lived 
I been thru so much tht my heart 
has gone numb
my aunt has to suffer thru life w out 
her son      
Id give anything for the chance 2 hv 
another day 
2 tell him how much hes truly 
missed day after  day
To kno tht hes touched our hearts in 
a special way
its not fair tht his life was dealt w 
unlucky fate
 He will never b forgotten hes 
changed our lives forever
Im thankful for the time we got to 
spend together
well always remember his 
unforgetable legacy
 tht he truly is an angel tht we were 
blessed to get to meet   
 Losin him makes me realize tht life 
is to short 
To c the good in me I never saw 
before      
Tht I should  b happy w the life god 
gave me
To finally show.people tht person I 
can b
 to remember life isnt gauranteed 
tomorrow      
To do sumthin good w the time he 
let u borrow 
I want to let him know tht he didnt 
die in vain
Tht his life here made the world a 
good place        well never forget the 
day  god took him to c
that special place tht only angels like 
him get to b


Details | Narrative | |

Buster

My sister had a small horse that no one else could ride
and anyone who mounted him soon had a skinned up hide.
It was haying time and Daddy took on some extra hands.
With brawn, brains didn’t matter much.  A rancher understands.
One new hand started boasting of broncos he had ridden.
Bragging around my brothers should have been a thing forbidden.

It didn’t take them long to brand that young cowpoke a phony.
They hatched a plan to get him on my sister’s half-broke pony.
If a man bragged of his horse savvy, he’d better know his beans.
They’d all been breaking broncos since before they hit their teens.
That evening when Sis brought the cows, Buster was so mellow
my brothers knew it was the time to trick that boasting fellow.
They asked their prey if he would like to ride the little horse.
The horse was acting gentle so he took the bait of course.
My sis got off and he got on, or such was his intention.
Buster remembered all the tricks those lads forgot to mention.
He gave one buck and that cowpoke was hanging from his mane.
He almost had him shaken off when he came down again.
Then Buster noticed the barn door was opened just a skin.
He was wider than the opening but still he wanted in.
He made a mad dash forward, just a-heading for that crack.
He made it through, the buckaroo was skinned right off his back.
The fellow was a sorry sight a-lying in that muck.
He must have thought the world was done or a bolt of lightning struck. 
Those rascals stood there laughing at the gent so mortified
then feeling sorry complimented him for his fine ride.
The moral of this story you don’t rate a horse by size
and misjudging one like Buster could get you a big surprise.     



For Carol's "A Horse Story" contest  Won 3rd


Details | Free verse | |

Clever Insanity

It’s another day, yes, another day
Another day to watch my cronies wandering around
meandering around aimlessly, flippantly like
they have no care…no care in the world
and just like that…bludgeoned by a badly worn cowboy boot!
Guts all over!

One time I dated one of those giddy ones
and I tried to warn her!
She thought she was too cute to be bludgeoned
Too cute…can you believe that?
After about 28 minutes of blissful dating
I left her alone for just a second
and just like that…clobbered by a red stiletto!
Guts all over!

I guess to say it tactfully...
Most of them fall short on the intelligence end of things
They tell me I’m lucky to have lived this long
They all bow to me

I am one of the lucky ones 
I am far more clever than most of them
I stay out of sight during the day
and just watch all of the guts
Don’t get me wrong I try to warn them 
but they just don’t listen!
They love to go out in the daylight and
scurry around…scurry around the first floor
over the Persian rugs…across the tile foyer
Right in the daylight, can you believe it?

It’s almost like they are asking to be stomped
Stomped just like that by a Skechers Shape-up
Guts all over!

The darkness has settled in now
and alas, it’s now my time to play
I engage in my recreation at night
At nighttime I can crawl through 
his jungles of chest hair and mangy mustache
and in and out of her furrows and crow’s feet
I only come out to frolic and meander 
when all the badly worn cowboy boots, red stilettos and ugly Shapeups 
are safely tucked away in the closet

I swing on the curtain tiebacks like Tarzan
I skate circles over the newly polished hardwood
I dance an impressive Irish jig atop the granite 
I merrily skip atop of the flat screen tv 
and nestle into the VHS tape opening
I’m so glad they have a VCR
‘Cuz those slots on the DVD players
are tough to get through

I am all alone but it so much fun to play
I bathe in a refreshing pool of milk 
left in a tall tumbler in the sink
It’s good for the skin they say
I feast on tasty crumbs in the bottom of the toaster
I’m so glad they don’t ever check there
I’m having such a blissful time
If only my pals would listen to me 
and come out and play only at night
when it’s safe
 
Ohhh noooo!!!
Devastated, I eye the newest addition to the family
I notice his long whiskers from a distance
As he stalks me with malicious delight 
I run as fast as I can but ultimately...
It's my guts all over!


Details | I do not know? | |

Mothers Love

The kids are cry in once again,
To there needs i come again,
To help them out in there time of need,
To you i swear it gonna be just fine,
To there needs i come again,
To you I swear  always be there,
To help you in your time of need.


Details | Carpe Diem | |

Pricked

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.


Details | Rhyme | |

Texas Time In A Texas Town

Born out on Highway 9 down in Corpus
Saw a mermaid in the gulf or maybe a porpoise
What a time at South Padre during Spring break
In Amarillo one time I tried to eat a giant steak

And I’m drunk in Del Rio again

Drank beer, long neck bottles of Lone Star
Just sittin’ on a stool at Mickey Gilley’s Bar
I fell in love with a country gal from Abilene
Damn, she had the nicest legs I’d ever seen

And I’m drunk in Del Rio again

Fifty yard line seats to watch America’s team
Roger, Troy, Emmett, Deon, Bullet Bob, what a dream
Spent my whole pay check at a house in La Grange
Partner, lets just say, it aint home on the range

And I’m drunk in Del Rio again

And I’m drunk in Del Rio again


Details | Free verse | |

HEY COWBOY

i saw her walk into 
my favorite bar
she was so beautiful 
she stole my heart 
in the time it takes
to take a single breath
i knew i had to take a chance 
so i walked up and asked
pretty lady do you dance
this dance with me 
would you dance through 
this life with me

she turned to me 
and whispered
cowboy your wasting your time 
i’m not your type 
and baby your not mine
i don’t drink beer 
and i don’t like country songs
be better for you if you
just moved on
cowboy move on 
just walk away from me 

hey cowboy 
walk away as fast you can
i’m not your kind of girl
your not my type of man
i’m not trying to hurt you 
or cause you any pain
but loving me will see you
crying in the rain
i need the glitter 
you ride in the dust
i’m a big city girl
you drive a pick up truck

but as i turned to walk away
she whispered.......
hey cowboy

irish


Details | I do not know? | |

Word Of Mouth

One of the oldest from of advertising the  world has ever seen
Based on reputation of a person, either good or bad
It can be kind of slow or right threw a town like wildfire
Put one out of business or wipe the slate clean
Be the best news in the world or it can be pretty sad
One thing about it, it will never expire

Several years back, I was living in a small cow town
It was in West Texas, the only thing that changed was the breeze
Everyone knew everyone's business, but still they would talk
Had only one sidewalk to roll up when the Sun when down
Most everyone's attitude was do as you please
Years went by time never changed on the court house clock

Old man Livingston, had the hardware store and mercantile
Sold guns, coyote traps, even had some knitting yarn
Most everything under the Sun, probably had some moonshine in the basement
If you stayed there long enough he would make you a deal
Even had cats to get rid of mice in your barn
Told a traveling sign painter one day, " I am the advertising department"

The sign painter pulled up in an old station wagon jalopy of a rig
Filled with half empty paint cans, saw the old sign outside
"Mr Livingston, your old sign could use some paint from what I see"
"No Sir, on advertising I am not very big"
"See folks from around these parts know me far and wide"
"I will tell you my secret and I think that you will agree"

"See the first time they come in, they try to get me in the end"
"They think that they are going to get a bargain"
"And I even throw in some things for the wife"
"Then I figure up the total, Damn Livingston I thought that you were a friend"
"I give them a big old screwing, they are still trying to get even"
"And that way Son, I have them coming back for life"


Details | Cowboy | |

The Last Time You Rode the Range

It was a small forgotten town
With general store and a grange,
Where a small boy asked the old man:
“When’s the last time you rode the range?”

The old cowpoke just paused and grinned,
And puffed on his old briar pipe—
He thought kids these days didn’t care,
With minds all full of games and tripe.

But here was a boy that did care,
And that hung on his every word—
That wanted to be a cowboy—
Of that one fact, he was assured.

“Son, it was back in the ‘30s,
A long time fore your folks was born—
It was the last gasp of the West,
Fore towns made the range forlorn.

“A man could ride on forever
On a wide range that did not end—
Just a man, his horse and his God,
And the free wind that was his friend.

“Yes, a man knew who he was then—
About life there was no debate—
There was right and wrong and true love—
And when called he was never late.”

But Jess,” the boy asked once again,
“When’s the last time you rode the range?”
The man smiled, but held back a tear,
“When I got old and the world got strange.”


Details | Prose Poetry | |

There Ain't Nothin' Better Then A Cowboy Lover

He was her part time lover
even though he was her only one
A man you could love
But she’d never let him know…
she had a full time heart            
Although her strings
had some wear and tear
throughout her years.

She wasn’t going to let him put her heart in his pocket.

No, she wasn’t about
to give her heart away
She’d play it cool.
Never let him see her fears
Pretend she was tough
Never cry or show any tears

He was a man,
raised right by his mother
He’d lay a rose upon her pillow
He was a man like no other
There ain’t nothin’ better
then a cowboy lover

His name was Jesse from Montana
He had skin the color of lightly roasted coffee 
from being out in the sun so much
His smile, a bit crooked
made him look a bit mischievous,
in a teasing sort of manner
It could knock your socks off 
if you gazed too long

She met him at a little café’ in Big Sky
leaning against the counter
like a long, tall drink of cool water
Boots, hat and all the makins'
of a real cowboy   

She had slayed the paper dragons of her past
Put them all behind her
She was bold and brave; 
asked for his number
which he willingly gave
with a smile, a little bit crooked,
a bit mischievous
in a teasing sort of manner

They’d cuddle in their blanket
under the stars and the moonlite
listening to Hank Williams songs
drinking coffee around their campfire
telling stories from their pasts;
laughing, snuggling
Before she’d go to sleep at night, 
he’d kiss her cheek 
and hold her close in his arms 
                     
One night as she lay in his arms,
he stroked her cheek 
with his tender touch, 
kissed her lips and held her tight

He said, “What would you do if I asked
"Ask what”, she said?
"Little lady, do you know I love you,
would you kindly be my wife”? 

When he said that to her that 
wonderful nite under the stars
she realized...

She wanted him, to put her heart in his pocket

That was the night 
she gave her heart away

  She wasn’t playin’ it cool
  She let him see her fears
  She wasn’t really all that tough
  Then, she cried and showed him her tears

He was a real man,
raised right by his mother
He laid a rose upon her pillow
He really was a man like no other
Nope, there sure ain’t nothin’ better
then a cowboy lover
                                                    *~The Sweet End~* 


Details | Cowboy | |

Georgia I'm Coming Home

I am sitting in this bus station, waiting to go home 
Oh Georgia its been a long, long time and I feel so all alone 
I want to feel the crisp morning wind, whispering through the pines 
Down by the river in a special spot, I called all mine 

Hey Nashville Oh Nashville you never played my songs 
And put my songs on the bottom of the pile of no play ones 
Nashville I Guess you had a lot of fun proving this Georgia boy wrong 
Hey Nashville, Oh Nashville you never played my songs 

I was a struggling song writer and not good enough for Nashville’s 
newest scene 
16th avenue was not what I figured, but I thought I met their every need 
But it just wasn’t  good enough, so I picked up my guitar left I got out 
Now out of money and with plenty of time just sitting waiting for that bus 

With no regrets and no bad feelings about the chances that I took 
I made a lot of friends, the nightlife was fun and the parties really shook 
But my heart does ache and I my pockets are empty with a big hole in 
my boots 
Now I am going down to my country home and get back  my roots 

Hey Nashville, Oh Nashville you never played my songs
Guess they got on the bottom of a pile of no play songs
Nashville I guess you had a lot of fun proving this Georgia boy wrong
Hey Nashville, Oh Nashville, You never played my song


Details | Sonnet | |

Only The Strong Will Survive

       ONLY THE STRONG WILL SURVIVE
God gives not peace, it's only dreamt by man,
in all the world ,brought from catastrophe,
all things are made, since time was first began
by things upheaved so new life comes to be.

The weak must fail, be eaten by the strong,
and losers die the death along the way,
so new life grows, even if it is wrong,
there is no time the poor will have to play.

The lion who will lay down with the lamb,
will have a feast before the day is done,
and all the world will never give a damn,
nor care about the giants and their fun.

        The hunter takes his aim and fells the dove
          the weak in life are only dreaming of.


Details | Cowboy | |

saline through time-

social dishonesty, 
in a word, 
in a moment, 
without reason or hope, 
saline through time… 

  


Details | Cowboy | |

Prime Time

The young bucks postured round me, as I leaned upon the bar, left my hat on yonder table...wasn’t very far. Jostling for position, each was pleased as punch, I waited for the question, from the leader of the bunch. “Is that your old lady, pops? ...sittin’ over there, looking kind of gamey, with lots of grayin’ hair?” Oh yeah...they did howl, the young ones always do, proud as first-time papas, lame as last week’s stew. “Well, fellas,” I drawled real slow…I timed it for effect, the beauty of it lost on them. What did I expect? “I used to be a youngin’, you may believe it’s true, or disregard it, I don’t care” ...the barkeep brought my brew. I spat a cud ‘a chaw, close by the nearest boot, and gave a shrug to indicate, “I don’t give a hoot.” By now they was a clawin’ like cats hung on a line, waitin’ fierce to pounce, on a grampa past his prime. “…well, a fella learns a thing or two, while he has his play, you don’t deserve to know this, but this I have to say… Plain and simple boys — When I quit lookin’ for perfection, perfection found me. You see that woman over there? She’s the loved one of my life, Thirty years ago, she said she’d be my wife. She bore me four fine sons, ain’t none of ‘em like you, and raised ‘em up in spite of me, so give the gal her due. Cause I was much like you back then, full of feist and spit, looking for perfection, in every girl I’d get. Sure, some of them were prettier, maybe had a better rack, but this one loved me better, than I ever loved her back. Fellas, I guess you’re hungry...’cause you got words to eat, talking ‘bout my woman like a simple piece of meat.” Oh, the hackles raised, of course, the young ones always do, by then old Joe the barkeep, had grabbed a pool cue. And right behind the boys, a plus-sized woman stood, I was thinkin’ to myself, “oh, this is gettin’ good.” Well Mabel was quite old enough, to be them fella’s ma, she laid a nasty look on them, like a punch from her right paw. ‘Tween old Joe the barkeep, with his hickory pool cue, this busted up old Cowboy and a matron with a ‘tude, them little boys all turned real sweet — it really made me laugh, the words they’d said flew to their mouths, like tit to newborn calf. Apologies around, then came from those sweet boys, now tipping beers with mama bear and making lots of noise. Me and Joe leaned on the bar, opposing sides, and stared, at mama hustlin’ pool, with them babies over there.


Details | Free verse | |

Delusional Cowboy

For years, desire,
Was punctuated with excuse,
And resentment,
Became a full time resident
In his thoughts.

Age left him feeling
Like a malcontent,
Floundering through life shadowing
Love's Portion.

The years he envisioned as his
Had been long pilfered,
By inattention and neglect;

His decent years, now remote,
He visions through a haze;
Remorseful feelings by himself

He knew changed nothing,
For yesterdays are unforgiving,
And time respects no person.