Best Bandanna Poems
The unsung heroes of the open plains
The outlaw bandits like Jesse James
Cut throat thieves and black jack hustlers
Green horn Cowboys and long horn rustlers
They all stood the Cowboys test
A stetsons man a broncos best
Leather chaps and leather vest
A real man's man a cut above the rest
Blazing saddles and blazing guns
Long trail ride and mountain runs
Chuck wagon chilly and camp fire sites
Hot sweaty days and long cold nights
A Cowboy sits on his faithful steed
Quick draw fingers based on speed
Bandanna mask and whiskey flask
A Cowboys job is'nt an easy task
Tabacco chew and cow beef stew
a Cowboys gang and Cowboys crew
They did work from dusk to dawn
round 'em up and brand 'em all day long
Gee!!! and haw!!! right and left
Yee and haw out of breath
Cowboy slang and Cowboy lingo
even Mexican Cowboys that say Gringo
Greetings y'all and howdy stranger
long lost wranglers and lone rangers
Ruff and rugged with no frills
Ask questions later shoot to kill
Yellow belly buckaroos and snake oil peddlers
wanted dead or alive outlaws and frontier settlers
From the California gold rush of 48
to the 13 colonies of this great state
Cowboys lived and Cowboys died!!!!
Cowboys give for Cowboys pride!!!
The wind laughs softly
The full moon with the stars
In the sky,
As I lie near the fountain
Gazing at the
Exquisite beauty
Of the nature.
It's the charm of the moon
Opens so many thoughts
And dreams.
The moon
Looks like a beautiful
Ballerina
Dancing with the troop of
The professional stars.
Twisting carelessly with the
Elegance of a swan
Through the lilac beauty
Of the spring time.
The sky seems a bandanna.
A dewy freshness
Fills my heart and soul.
How beautiful is the night,
I captivated, enchanted.
Oh! Gealach,
ben reine ny hoie.
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"Gealach" means......Brightness,
"ben reine ny hoie" means.....Queen of the night.
The language of the Isle of Man.
_________________________
The moon and the moon poetry
in general seems to dispel the
human centredness that we all
suffer from.
Thank you for reading.
Chitta.
A party store robbery last weekend
deadly for patron and clerk
Suspect ran out, waving his gun
bandanna just covered his smirk
Eye-witnesses? Almost a dozen
not one of them saw anything
Which way did he go? We really don't know
straight faced they won't say a thing
No one was fazed by the gun that was raised
they said they were facing the wall
All of them stand with a phone in their hand
but no one had bothered to call
Now there are two families mourning
the witnesses should be ashamed
Now will they do right, and help the law fight
or be the next patron that's "slain"
Its a tough one for many to answer
they stay out and don't get involved
They're usually the first ones complaining
that another crime didn't get solved
Remember who you, turn your back on
it's easy to say "don't ask me"
So don't think that it's pride when you must decide
and who will you call? We shall see...
Charlie. I worked with Charlie for 14 years. He was a little older than me, did the same job. Sure had the "highs and lows" - he must have been manic-depressive or bipolar or something. He'd blow up, but remained a good friend. Charlie was big, had to be 350 lbs. or 160 kg. A very good drummer, he could work magic with just his fingers and thumbs on a table. He said nobody in his family ever lived past age 55. Colon cancer. At first, there was some steely resolve to fight, but it quickly leached most of it out it of him. He was correct about age 55.
Bob was a mechanic, and didn't work "on the road." At that time, it was somewhat like being in the military for most of us - we had our rank, our chain-of-command, and our missions (not to mention our egos). Bob was at peace, competent, relaxed, quiet. He was a little hard to understand - he spoke softly, perhaps slightly muffled, as if with a small speech impediment, but always with good humor and a twinkle in his eye. I'd see him a few times a year, when we were back from a tour of work. Always wore a red bandanna around his head.
He was as purely good-natured as anybody I've ever met. This was in the days before cell phones, and in the repair shop there was a pay phone that was enclosed with sound-dampening material, so you could hear over the din. One time I lost my wallet - that cold, nauseating feeling - I'd left it in the little sound-booth. After searching the grounds for two fruitless hours, I came upon Bob, approaching me with the most honest smile. "Are you missing something?" he said, holding out the wallet. No games, no sarcastic comments, he was just glad to help.
And then one time he wasn't there. "Bob died - he had leukemia." I hadn't known; I don't think he told anybody, maybe a boss right at the end. Oh Bob.
I was in a field near Maitland, just wading through this rain
and I'm feeling about as ragged as my jeans
Mali went home to lay down just before this rain
started spinning this old man's mind back into a dream
so I pulled my wood flute from my dirty red bandanna
and played it softly as I learned to sing the blues
didn't hear the words or see the lies just held Mali's hand in mine
We must have sung every song this grand-pa knew
Dreaming is just another word for nothing left to lose
Nothing means everything because this life it ain't free
And feeling good was so easy, Lord, Till I sang the blues
In real life feeling good was good enough for me
From her fast track to play time, she loved laying in the sun
That's where we could discuss the secrets in our souls
Through clear and stormy weather, arguments and the fun
Yeah, this blue eyed baby girl kept grampa from the cold
On a clear day near Amplatz, Lord, I felt her slip away
You knew she went to look for her Big Bro, I know Liam found her
I'd gladly trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday
If I could be holding that precious Mali on my knee
To remember is yet another word in this life some must lose
Dreams, hope and deep faith that's what Mali left me
Speak often to all who cross and you will realize who is free
Learning this together was good enough for me and Mali McGee
She tore me apart
under a rockabilly sunset;
Set me free from the
sway of pop culture jive
with her bass-line booty.
She smelled like gasoline,
tasted like cherries,
and made my heart rumble like a .454
And she knew she had me,
when she dropped her hair
outta that black bandanna,
wrapped it it round my neck,
and lit me up with
…Pontiac red lips.
Yeah, she tore me down
like a fixer-upper,
built me back up,
and revved me high.
Reeedd liinedd by those
spider web leggins’.
I know she’s mine,
thank God in Heaven.
Cuz when she whispers in my
ear “Baby, lets go for a ride”
I can’t find a way to make
this monster glide.
We’re stuck in high gear,
bound to make it outta town
for’ daddy knows I got her
sittin’ in the middle of my bench
seat ‘stead of that church pew.
I know he’ll come a lookin’
but as long as we keep bookin’
we’ll make it to horizon ‘for the
world even knows we’re gone.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved
VALENTINES DAY IN AUSSIE BUSH
Awakening with a romantic itch,
Then a scratch where I had burst a stitch,
looking at my beaut shagger named sheila,
as a randy ram, try to hug her,
tis Valentines Day in Whattabugga.
Love is in the bush out west,
all that walks, crawls, or calls do their best.
Upon this farm there is no calm,
for all feel that Valentine charm.
Kebabra of sheep
could be heard all night without any sleep.
Calling all crow, this rooster is on show.
That goat, oh damn!, is horny for porky ham,
and Freckie the Frill neck, tries to Goanna,
while the Kookaburra laughs in a speckled bandanna.
My best mate arrives, called Whatafella,
only blued eyed dog in Whattabugga,
with bottle brush from down da riva,
a prezzie for my missus, I try'n' giv ha,
still with wild bees,
to try 'n' please,
smiling "Darls have ne recipes for these.
Love is in the Aussie bush out west,
All that walks, crawls, or calls do their best.
There was a young lad from Havana
Who refused to eat his banana.
When Mama said take it,
He tried hard to fake it
By hiding it in his bandanna.
Written: 7/2/2019
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Lava veins while hand washing
needing a camel,
Forcing bottled water.
Bandanna dream feeding
warning on chem-paper
tinkering on a clip board.
Ear to conditioning air
customer complant service
Blue 80 there table number.
Bush grooming for butts
Pecking the capped
textured by stone, colored dirty.
This hunter's green is in envy
statement from "Laurel"
"Hary" sleeping.
Job-headed to tedious hair
encountering under cloths
Pathos: a beautiful world.
I'm a blue collar worker who works outdoors
and I'm also required to wear a hard hat all day.
My exposed skin and face tan at a very fast pace,
but beneath that hard hat, absolutely no way.
The last time I went bandanna free,
someone got distracted, lost their footing and tripped.
All I heard as I fled the scene was, "Did you see that human Q-tip?"
In addition to speaking in rhyme, I dress in black all the time
but that shouldn't reflect upon my personality.
I just claim not to be so great when I attempt to color coordinate
but the simple truth is black is safe and I'm just lazy.
I live the single lifestyle and by that I simply mean that I have chosen to live alone.
I enjoy True Solitude, so I don't share living quarters very well.
My home has to be My Home.
I keep mostly to myself but that shouldn't suggest that I can't be the life of the party.
Back in my day I wore many a lampshade.
Now I've calmed down. I don't party too hearty.
Well, enough about me. What about you?
What are your interests, your passions?
What do You like to do?
Who knows where this might go or how it might end.
At the very least, I Hope to find A Real and True Friend.
Oh yeah, one last thing I need to mention to you.
A little sex from you also would be very nice too.
I was doing very well. I was doing just fine
and then I had to blow it with the very last line.
Am I right ladies? Damnit!
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Please do not respond to the above ad ladies. It is now null and void. I pretty much live the
life of a hermit these days.
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Deep in the south, lives the Southern Pine.
I love the fresh pine scent, it’s really quite divine.
The palms adorn the water’s edge, such sturdy summer trees.
As they grow, they will bend and shape up in the breeze.
The Magnolia has a lovely flower; its scent is, oh so sweet.
Downwind in the evening breeze; it makes the day complete.
Evergreens unfurling their new baby greens; will make a fright, Halloween;
when their mass of moss highlights eerie moons scenes.
The Catalpas displaying their long pods; nicknamed Cigar Trees;
create an eerie vision of waving fingers in the breeze.
Pawpaw trees, with their sweet fruits; better than bananas;
These tasty treats are great to eat so, fill up your bandanna!
Southern trees are beautiful, like Cypresses and Red Cedars. You must go south to see them all; yes you must, dear readers.
under the sun light
Boston ivy's bandanna
diamante shines
The Un-Cowboy Like Cowboy
this is the story of cedric hyde-fleet
the most un-cowboy cowboy you ever would meet
cedric was english, not british you see
but, being a cowboy was what he wanted to be
he was from england
as i said before
never ridden a horse
and well, what's more
his image of cowboys
was of those on tv
but, being a cowboy
was what he wanted to be
he was all set to travel
and leave his home land
out to the west
but, he was allergic to sand
the dust would wreak havoc
with his pale, flaky skin
ten miles from home
was the furthest he'd been
he had a six shooter
which he'd nicknamed Old Burt
but, he didn't have bullets
they made his ears hurt
the smell of the powder
and the noise of the gun
made cedric wonder
if this would truly be fun
he needed a cream
for the chafing down there
and a specialized hat
to protect his thin hair
a brush wouldn't do
he would need a nice comb
he reacted to flannel
so he'd get shirts from rome
he'd fly out from london
head out west to a ranch
find a town just like gunsmoke
and a bar....the long branch
but, his stomach was tender
hard liquor was out
and the salt in the food
would just trouble his gout
but, cedric hyde-fleet
was determined to go
to the united states
to join a wild west show
he'd start out learning riding
how to shoot, and all that
he'd learn about cattle
he had his own hat
he was the most un-cowboy cowboy
they would have in the west
but, with his dedication
he would soon be the best
he would get all equipped
from dolce and gabbanna
his shirts and socks matched
his silk plaid bandanna
now, cedric hyde-fleet
never ever left home
never got on the horse
or got shirts made in rome
the things that he wanted
were the things that he'd seen
and he forgot about cowboys
when he first saw ....The Queen
Bandanna and me
I tie my hair at night
So I can sleep
Hoping my hair doesn't
Move underneath
Trying to save
Sometime in the morning
I don't have to spend to much time combing
Now that I'm gone
To start my day
I'm already dressed
So I'm on my way
First to the coffee shop
To have me some tea
Then to work
My bandanna and me
I wont entertain these stillborn
Ideas with a bandanna and a cross
I wont bargain for insurance
While fake servants roam the floor
There's no love on my tongue
For pasty, plastic American dripping dreams
The thief of the garage
Stole my conscience