Cowboy Metaphor Poems | Cowboy Poems About Metaphor

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

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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

Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2012

Details | Sonnet |

when we Hallucinate our known fear

When you hallucinate our unknown fear, In the act of offsetting the oracles.Therefore Forworning ownself from its sacrosanctity shear, Subsisting off at the expense of the rescissive cycle, & It is risked to be answerably clear of the recidivistion, On our ragout heads would yet behest fairer? In the greegree region, If the unbeknownst boko were only so tinder, Would not its saracenic harem stoke. So they shorn in the allotments of massive  alopecician , As trying tardy in some doubtful spoke, Men left out in its tincture realms, spun in 
the air like a coin to come to face the faced,Grappling with the Hecates seeing an unkingly estranged from what had besought men  engendered.

Copyright © kelechi Emeaba | Year Posted 2012

Details | Cowboy |

Annies Gun

“Never trust your life behind a cheap gun”
- Annie Oakley

Annie, has a heavy heart.
But also a light heart
	one that shines in the sun.
and regardless light or dark,
Annie’s bright heart will spark
	and spin out a round, whistling like a song being sung. 
With only moments notice, 
	before most prepare to know it
She showcases its essence in one single sentence.
But a statement to render us speechless
Pierced as a whole. 
All of us she reaches.
Standing there alone 
with her gun.

She splits a playing card at 90 yards 
without care.
Plugs a nickle in the middle 
flipping through the air,
and with a single shot, puts out a candle flame
	without disturbing wax a drop.

The hammer and trigger are stock, 
and cherry is the handle. 
Handmade, crafted, shaped
	like herself, to perform in dust and rain. 
Tooled as a saddle and Gold washed in a barrel.
But Annie's gun is a mystery. 
And what's more 
when she points her heart towards anything
or chooses to use it for our amusement
Her targets are always attained.

Somehow by her grit, grip and will,
we're left in awe, and even a little afraid
of Annie's heart of iron and steel.

Afraid of the way, she owns the stage. 
Holds and keeps her gaze on the straight away,
as we ourselves stare down the sight
she'll let fly the first of bullets loaded that day
With five more, soon on the way

“Never trust your life behind a cheap gun”
she'd say.

And each round fired off
takes us back to a younger age.
The image of the dying past, laying to final rest,
The old west
and the way things used to be.

To see those cards split at the neck of the king.
Lit cigarettes gently whisked away
from the lips of her husband, sitting
blindfolded, or asleep
She alone stands with Sitting Bull,
A dying breed.

For us watching those bottles break
Our hearts too, shatter as much as they
having never seen such a scene
as we've seen today 
they scatter 
with the ashes in the breeze.

Copyright © Trey Pearson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Cowboy |

Walk your line

Walk your Line 

A word to the blind:
From the day your first mount and ride
Till the moment you die
Walk your line
Walk proud and high
Through each and every wreck your stride unwinds
Walk your whole heart
spine upright
till it breaks if you like
But drink the whole pint down
and with an appetite for burning in the stirrups
See if you can swallow the time. 

Walk, right away from your childhood dreaming
lay it beneath your feet in caliche
And when you're yearning most to tie on a tourniquet 
Telling yourself you deserve it
stay in line, as you're not entitled to anything. 
Never more a burden then when asking for money
and worthless for thinking of quitting
cuz there's nothing in the world worth half it's weight 
unless for it you're bleeding. 

Your life's only worth your life's work
the grinding gears in your temple, spinning
Always on time, you can count on it 
strides lengthening
but despite it all you'll walk well beyond all you thought
you'd get
When you first agreed to begin
When for what you signed on for you've nearly forgot
Some crockpot reason to pursue a living 
in what to most is only a vacant lot
You'll have to walk to the empty spot on the map
just past where your mom and dad had given up. 

And then keep walking
Bypassing your own bragging rights stopped dead in their tracks
and all parts plastic inside you have snapped in half
In fact, you'll soon be worn so far past the point of no return 
to think you were actually born on its welcome doormat.

Everything is past the big fancy hat
walk, before your feet get frozen, stuck to the bar 
for something more than can be bought no matter who you are
To be the one who takes it this far
and to become the soul of the man
as if you've finally landed – working for the homeland
Riding for the brand, cuz you were given a single chance
And walk for the credit of at least one loop correctly cast
and for the wisdom of knowing if and when to turn em back
or hang on for dear life like you've dallied your own hand. 

And stick by the very skin of your big toenail, as you pitch in the norther winds
just trying to send you clear to rock bottom
and only then, they might not prevail.

So go on out, the time is now
Walk high and proud, and take a breath in town
then keep being the nail, always driving deeper down
never quit walking the sacred ground you're standing on now

If you think you love that gal.

Copyright © Trey Pearson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Cowboy |

Out Riding

I have seen,
Time and time again, our rise and fall
But not what passes between. 
However, my reflection stays the same. 
As I ride through the brush and green mesquite
Late in the evening. 

And while the sun goes,
Spilling the sights, and casting shadows far in their elongated flight
Jetting towards the night
High above and below alike, 
another day is reclaimed by the west. 

And, within that balance struck
from up on a horses back 
lies behind the creaking tack
a way, past the minutia.
A place, where nights and days fade 
for the fluid movements between them. 

And so, begins a subtle breeze
	I hadn't noticed it before it had already past me
As if a response to the sun-day's sending 
gleaming rings like tangerine
And facing the applause I pause to watch
the wind run fingers through the hairlike grass
A tender act, quite loving in fact
As if this moment they share
along with a deep sadness to part.

However, they must know that the spring cannot begin
without either of them both
and so the grass and wind promise to unite again 
when the time is right.

No fear of the night
and heedless of their most distant dreams
Deepest sleeps
or even faced with the stark differences their lives have seen
	To find each-other, no matter the cold
and never let go
	of knowing high hopes can lead
to things far larger than them both. 

	-And perhaps someday 
		So will I. 

Copyright © Trey Pearson | Year Posted 2016