Best Buckle Poems
VAROOOM!! Listen to my honey purr.
Better to me than being wrapped in fur.
Come take a look at my 77' Corvette,
worth every penny tho' now I'm in debt.
She sits on a very sturdy C-2 chassis.
I love the way she makes me feel classy.
Brand new rims made of finest chrome,
staying clean, kept in my garage at home.
She gets attention from the opposite sex.
Here's my cute neighbor. "Hi there, Dex.
Take a look at what's under her hood."
"Whew," he whistled. "Sure lookin' good."
I didn't know if he meant the vette or me
with her 350 engine, I couldn't disagree.
Maybe it was her paint job he liked best,
Black Rose Metallic, he'd already guessed.
Dex told me he had one, an exact match.
I smiled knowing I'd hauled in my catch.
He asked if he could take us for a drive.
"Buckle up, Baby, I wanna keep you alive."
We slid across her seats of black leather,
Lookin' so fine, cruisin' 'round together.
My sweet vette was worth all the money.
Got Dex to notice me. Now he's my honey.
December 4th 2015
For Women Only~Car Contest
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer
She dances to the rhythm at a place where cowboys gather
She dances in the evening and in the afternoon
She's got no place she'd rather be and that's a wonderous thing
She knows a thousand tunes at the Buckle Up Saloon.
She looked for fame and fortune in a place called New York City
The price of fame was high and the friendly folks were few
Took a train ride back to Texas where some folks still ride horses
And thought about the cowboy who hoped she'd say "I do"
Well,she plays a lonely guitar and she sings of love and loss
And wonders where he calls home and if he's gone for good
While she thinks about the music and the memories he left -
Sings about the days gone by and hopes he understood
She dances to the rhythm at a place where cowboys gather
She dances in the evening and in the afternoon
She's got no place she'd rather be and that's a wonderous thing
She knows a thousand tunes at the Buckle Up Saloon
4-16-18
One man one woman
Upon a horse they did ride
Till off it she slid
Buckle up now
And hold on tight
Gonna be my co-driver
You need to shout it right
We’re gonna be going
At some really hairy speeds
You’re my navigator
The one instructing me
I need that information
To plan the road ahead
Yes I need it quick girl
So get that in your head
So buckle up now
And hold on tight
You’re in for the ride
The ride of your life
We’ve gotta keep on going
We’re racing against the clock
To get to that check point
We’ll give it all we got
Racing through this forest
As fast as we can go
Close between these trees
Wipers going to and throw
So
Buckle up now
And hold on tight
Gonna be my co-driver
Please shout it right
We’re gonna be going
At some really hairy speeds
You’re the navigator
The one instructing me
We’re gonna be driving
Over different terrains
In all kinds of weather
It’s gonna be insane
Doing Speeds over
A hundred MPH
In pitch black darkness
Feel that awesome power
So
Buckle up now
And hold on tight
Gonna be my co-driver
Please shout it right
We’re gonna be going
At some really hairy speeds
You’re my navigator
The one instructing me
It takes a lot to focus
You’ve got to have the skill
Adjusting to conditions
Behind this rally wheel
One mistake is costly
I need the pacenotes quick
Just say it in advance
As we go into this drift
© Copyright KC.Leake
18th January 2016
All Rights Reserved
To whom does he smile at
With a tip-top approbation of doggedness
Neglecting the pleasure of the period?
To whom does he cheer
With a reverberating extant sound?
Nobody but he who buckles down
Another pair of cowboy boots
beneath my bed
banishing dreams of
a permanent man
right out of my head
They call me a buckle-bunny
but that sets too low the bar
for at the end of the night
I take home the rodeo star
He rides wild horses
and even wilder bulls
I lap him up by the mouthfuls
Lust curls in my belly
when I spy the champion buckle
his laughter is sweet as the honeysuckle
An aging buckle-bunny is what I see
until the next cowboy smiles at me
Does it make you chuckle
or even cause your knees to buckle
Does it make you snicker
or help your day go quicker
Does it leave you with a smile
for a little or a long, long while
Just how wide is your grin
wide enough for a double chin
Have you really laughed out loud
then of my limerick I can be proud
Baby baby baby you are sugar sweet
You think some lovin will make you complete
You believe all those shows on romance
Baby buckle up your heart for you don't stand a chance
Love is a bumpy ride because it takes two
For some love is just for fun and never true
Boys will be boys and men are men
They say anything for love to pleasure them
You may feel it's real but they be on their way
You fell in love but to them it was only play
Love has it's ups but it will leave you down
Don't turn that sweet smile into a frown
Buckle up your heart love is a bumpy ride
Paradise beautiful has an other side
Understand with love you'll kiss some frogs
So with your love be stingy not a hog
Buckle up your heart so it won't break
Love is a bumpy ride there'll be mistakes
Before you jump in put on those brakes
Buckle up your heart it's okay to wait
Baby baby baby you are sugar sweet
Pride in yourself makes you complete
Love will be found in just living
It's not just taking it's in giving
I may always appear like a shiny new buckle
gleaming in the morning sun,
freshly polished and ready to face the day
There is a side to me that very few see or even know -
the scared, tarnished soul afraid to allow,
too dark to dwell on
and to bright to see!
But now the buckle has lost its lustre
so bored of playing games and exhausted of the endless vanities of others!
I want forever to feel the light of every constellation beaming down on me -
the universal light of love and lust that is freely given without the need for negotiation, compromisation, deterioration...
Copyright Deon J.H. Burger 2014
He always wore that rodeo buckle made of silver and gold,
Every day of his life from when he was young till he grew old.
It said he was bucking horse champion of nineteen fifty-three,
And he told all the cowboys he had been the best that could be.
But then one day a stranger comes to town ‘bout as old as old Rance,
Who listened to his stories in silence and then eyed him askance.
He asked old Rance some questions ‘bout his times in rodeo—
Like horses he rode; cowpokes he knew and things he should know.
Then old Rance got defensive and asked just who was this cowboy gent
That asked him all these funny questions ‘bout days so long ago spent.
“Why,” drawled the old cowpoke, “I spent time here in fifty-three or two,
Ridin’ in rodeos you mentioned, but I don’t remember you.”
“And I don’t seem ta recollect you,” old Rance said and eyed the poke.
“Name’s McCall,” the stranger said, “and I ran that rodeo, no joke.”
Well, old Rance’s face fell and he knew his jig was up at long last—
Trying to pass that buckle off as his own, in one long last gasp.
He’d won that trophy buckle at cards from a cowboy on his last legs—
Why he started calling it his own, I reckon the question begs.
Now the other cowpokes gathered ‘round with wonder in their clear eyes
At why old Rance had shot the bull for years and told them all those lies.
Then a strange thing happened, as McCall realized just what he had done,
“Wait a minute, fella,” he said, “weren’t you the kid nicknamed ‘Young Gun?’”
And though he never had such a name, old Rance just nodded and grinned.
“I remember you now, you were the best – you rode just like the wind!”
Old Rance and McCall became pards, though Rance toned his bragging down,
But when new rodeos started, all the young cowboys gathered ‘round.
Then right before old Rance passed on, he gave that buckle to McCall
And told him he weren’t good at cards, that buckle was his after all.
John Wayne rode across the screen
And was able to beat the bad guys no matter how mean
Look at Red River as a movie about a cattle drive
With Wayne the trail boss so alive
This movie was one of his best
And for his Westerns made above the rest
If you look closely he always wore the Red River belt buckle aloud
Given to him by Howard Hawks who directed the Red River so proud
And look at the wanted posters in the Sheriff offices closely
You will see Hondo and his other characters mostly
So next time you are enjoying these movies now
Look for these things showing your know how.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Somewhere deep inside our souls.
We know who sits at the controls.
And that from the very beginning.
With God we knew we would be winning.
So now we're left to let you go.
To be with him, with faith we know.
That you have done all that was needed.
There's no need for it to be repeated.
And now we're left to hope and pray.
That we'll see you again someday.
And with that faith deep in our souls.
We know who sits at the controls.
P.S. This is why I hate, yes, hate contests on poetrysoup. This contest is already closed and after I took the time to, and put the effort into writing one for it. Thanks alot. :/
Jack Daniels whiskey label
That has you out aged
Stamped in the silver tombstone
Aboard your belt.
And the dust on your boots
Not yet time worn, or tattered with age
Almost as shiny as your youth
Behind those still driven eyes
embers of a fire
Burning in your belly
Flickering to flame
In your dilating pupils
If whiskey were all that
Touched the rim
Could you even hold
A steady hand
Keep it all down
Or would your young-blood
Reject all reason
If I were a Mixologist
I’d brand your innocence
With something frozen pink and fruity
Or perhaps your Ivy League smile
Would entice the monkey’s lunch
Milk could still do that body good
But behind my condescending smirk
And my time tailored thirty-something taste for whiskey
There is a little, Miss McGill
That wants to brew you tea
Boil your barley-teasing-twenty assets
And let them steep in the confines
Of a solid bed frame.
He tells the kids of Tuff and Lane with Cody by their side
Headin to every rodeo just tryin to make a ride
The long nights spent drivin and sleepin in the car
And every buckle bunny surroundin them at the bar
Every time he's lost and the bronc or bull has won
Havin a laugh behind the chutes and all the petty fun
The rides he's made the buckles won and the entry fees lost
To biggar, badder and better things that tried to buck him off
His story is long and painful it's filled with wrecks and rides
About the miles traveled and all the teary eyes
He left it all behind him for a chance at golden fame
Lookin at every rodeo for that buckle with his name
Place where they have a lot of nerve;
Should surely see the way they curve;
My big buckle,
Said knuckle;
They do it with much vive and verve.
Jim Nada Cantata Horn
We should wrote a poem about
Parlous Vaux cantata.