Best El Dorado Poems
Prospector Pete had roamed the hills fer years searchin' fer gold!
He and his faithful burro, Fred, were both growin' weary and old.
He'd looked fer color in many a mountain and stream in Colorado,
Lookin' fer that mother lode, that elusive vein, his own El Dorado!
Oh, he'd found a few nuggets here and there, but didn't amount to much.
Those he did find he'd blown on gamblin', women, whiskey and such!
Pete would save a bag of dust or two from his many wanton toots,
To grubstake himself to re-supply his picks, jeans, shovels and boots.
He staked his claims along ripplin' streams and left many holes along the way.
The mountains and valleys are pocked with his many diggin's to this very day!
He'd come up dry, nothin' there, and move on to more appealin' pickin's,
Burrowin' and pannin' with elbows flyin' workin' like the dickens!
Pete would winter in his cabin 'til spring then he'd begin his annual quest,
Packin' his tools on long-sufferin' Fred and headin' fer the hills to the west.
If he didn't find that elusive bonanza this year he swore that he would retire,
To his ramshackle cabin at the foot of Mount Pisgah and enjoy the blazin' fire!
Years passed and Prospector Pete wasn't seen 'round town much anymore.
One wintry day his friends found him froze to death upon his cabin floor!
They dug Prospector Pete's grave and buried him outside his cabin door.
Eureka! Six feet down was that vein of gold that he'd been a-lookin' for!
Categories:
el dorado, funny,
Form:
Ballad
My father's abeng blew up my mother's womb
And I was chained there
Nine months in darkness drinking blood
Longing for my resurrection from the tomb
Longing to break the chains
Holding me before my birth to a carnal earth
Longing to stop him pounding
Pounding on the door of my bereft eternity
I carrying the weight of him already
The weight of them against the gravity
Of my life. My wings folded
Longing wield sword edge of flight against the sun
I burdened to undo what already is done
Have no finality here.
Look at me like an eagle flying in the sun
Blood dripping from my talons when the flight is done
O let me cleanse the world again
In the red flood that alters pain.
One day I was born screaming for a cause
I could not take kindly to tradition
Slapping black and blue a baby's **** ... laws
Must have been broken to beat the innocent
Unless it is a crime to come into this earth
To carry so much legacy
From maroon history to Jesus Christ, blacklisted
Like my my forebears: Shaka
Father of my grandfather's mother,
My other grandfather, Accompong warrior
Slain between the stones of Holland Estate and Mountain
Bridging the way for fleeing slaves
I come Cudjo less, Nanny less, merciless
Carrying on the war of generations
Calling no more for repatriation but reparation
Of human rights, human dignity, and racial sovereignty
Where Africa may find again its concord
Without false treaty and flimsy accord
Raping the Congo of natural resources and life
I come, the bushing through guinea grass
Tumbling kingdoms with wisdom and knife.
For this I was born, beaten at birth
Given resurrection from the night of earth.
My father sought to be civilize
Recite poems of Britannia's might and lies
And I, I was singing with the night
Reading a long history of pain to make write
Of my own proclamations, to declare
I shall not bend my knees, nor walk in fear
Where death measure us in dust
And vampires and conquistadores lust
For El Dorado buried in my disgust.
I am a man, and I will make my monument of truth
Upon the gravestone of the brute.
Categories:
el dorado, politicalme, history, me,
Form:
Free verse
Como’ Si’ Yama’, Senor’
Como’ Si Yama’, Por Favor’…
… for Below That Embroidered Sombrero’
Shone Eyes Like El Dorado
He Was A Tall and Handsome Hombre’
Like The Range of Sierra Madre’
…Now, He Sat Center The Cantina
Surrounded by Bonita – Senhoritas
He Smiled, “Buenos-Dias Senora’”
Por Favor, Por Que’ El-Hora’ ?...
If So, Have A Seat, Mi- Amiga’
And Mercedes, Bring Over More Cerveza
He Was… Rodrigo Reyes-Pacheco’
Best - of The West, of Vaqueros’
He Came to Compete in The Rodeos
And Win Fame and Fortune in Pesos’
He Came Thru El Paso De’ Tejas
Thru Dusty Rancheros and Mesas
To Ride on El Toro Rojo
Who Has Never Been Ridden Befo’…
La Viva’… Arriva’ … Rodrigo
The Brave and The Bold Caballero’
Champion Bull Rider, from Old Mexico
Vaya’… Con Dios’ !... Rodrigo
Now, El Toro Rojo, Was Dangerous
For Killing Men, El Rojo, Was Infamous
His Horns Had Pierced Many A Corazon
Ripped Flesh, Like It Was Piñata’ Hung
I Informed All of This To Rodrigo
The Hombre, Was Bent on Being Macho’…
… He Would Ride Toro Rojo, Manyana’
Said “Gracias”… But My Cares Were Por Nada’ !
La Viva’… Arriva’… Rodrigo
The Brave and The Bold Caballero’
Champion Bull Rider, from Old Mexico
Vaya’… Con Dios’!... Rodrigo
… Now, He Wasn’t Loco in La Cabeza’
I Just Didn’t Comprehende’ … “Que’ Pasa”
But I Saw Rodrigo Atop… El Rojo
… ! He Rode Like A Latino – Tornado ! …
He Rode El Rojo, To The End…
Then, Turned ‘Round and Rode Him Again…
Rodrigo had Won… Just Like He Planned…
Because El Toro – Rojo … … Was Mexican !
La’ Viva’ … Arriva’ … Rodrigo
The Brave and The Bold Caballero
Champion Bull Rider from Old Mexico
Vaya’ … Con Dios ! … Rodrigo….
Vaya’ … Con Dios !... Rodrigo o o o o o
for Ruben Ortellao...
I Don't Really Know
What Your Branch of Humanity is...
(Spanish, French or Other)
But I thought You Might Like
This Whimsical Poem...
Oh... And Thank You For Your
Most Generous Comments...
(Cause I Know You Are A Fantastic Poet...
I've Read Several of Yours
and I Love Them Too...)
(P.S. Excuse the Spelling...
I'm Spanish Illiterate (Smile)
MoonBee
Categories:
el dorado, adventure, animals, cowboy-western, fantasy,
Form:
Light Verse
Prospector Pete had roamed the hills fer years searchin' fer some gold.
He and his faithful burro, Fred, were both growin' weary and old.
He'd looked fer color in many a mountain and stream in Colorado,
Lookin' fer that mother lode, that elusive vein, his own El Dorado.
Oh, he'd found a few nuggets here and there, but didn't 'mount to much.
Those he did find he'd blown on gamblin', women, whiskey and such.
Pete would save a bag of dust or two from his many wanton toots,
To grubstake himself to re-supply his jeans, shovels and boots.
He staked claims 'long ripplin' streams and left many holes 'long the way.
The mountains and valleys are pocked with his diggin's to this very day!
He'd come up dry, nothin' there and move on to more appealin' pickin's,
Burrowin' and pannin' with elbows flyin' workin' like the dickens!
Pete would winter in his cabin 'til spring then he'd begin his annual quest,
Packin' his tools on long-sufferin' Fred and head fer the hills to the west.
If he didn't find that elusive bonanza this year he swore that he'd retire,
To his cabin at the foot of Mount Pisgah and enjoy the blazin' fire.
Time passed and Pete wasn't seen 'round town much anymore.
On a wintry day his pals found him froze to death upon his cabin floor!
They dug Pete's grave and buried him just outside his cabin door.
Eureka! Six feet down was that vein of gold that he'd been a-lookin' for!
Categories:
el dorado, humorous, irony,
Form:
Ballad
Were I to swim to the edge of the sea,
what splendid scene should await for me?
Would I behold the legendary town
with glittering brick roads and king’s famed crown?
Could I uncover the truth in the seed,
win a place in the king’s absolute creed?
Anoint my body, in sticky sap drown,
paddle to Guatavita and dive down.
Arise from the waters clean as a bead,
to the fest of El Dorado I’d lead.
No other exists so gilded, hands down,
an existence of gold — building and gown.
I’d join with the Muiscan folk, indeed
take up residence and full life proceed
to build again a foundation so sound
that none could purloin the gold around.
World befallen by avarice and greed,
best forgotten I hardily accede.
To such golden place without up or down
I’d ever exist in paradise found.
Categories:
el dorado, fantasy, happy, history, longing,
Form:
Ballad
As a Kid, I never wanted to be viewed as Black. There were always negative connotations that came with that.
Death and Evil, things like the "Black" Plague.
The Representative of Darkness and the Loneliness of Shade.
I Remember a teacher told me according to statistics, by the age of 16 I'd Drop out of School
And by 18, I'd Be in the Prison System or in my Grave.
I guess she was trying to use a scare tactic to make me behave, but I took it in the wrong way!
Now I'm hating myself just because of the pigment of my skin is this way!
But the next couple of days, my opinion changed.
I started to learn some "Evil" History.
You see, there was the KKK and we had the BPP! I learned that my Ancestors were Kings and Queens.
From Light skinned to Dark all Black was Beauty. And a couple of musicians and inventors I do secede.
Then along came the NAACP!
My ancestors were writers and politicians, so what CAN I do?
They were Innovator! So what CAN I do?
They Broke Indestructible Barriers! So what CAN I do?
What CAN I do?
What CAN I do?
WHAT CAN I DO?!
Being Black, the true question is
What CAN'T I Do?
*Dedicated to the NAACP of El Dorado, Arkansas
Categories:
el dorado, black african american, deep,
Form:
Free verse
Jefferson Randolph 'Soapy' Smith was the wiliest scoundrel in the west!
He was invited to leave numerous towns since he wasn't a welcome guest!
He swindled gullible dudes throughout the west endin' up in Colorado,
Where he earned the sobriquet 'Soapy' and where he found his El Dorado!
He'd set up a soap display on a Denver street and invite folks to gather 'round.
His spiel began: "Buy a bar for a dollar and inside money may be found!"
The rush was on and suckers fought to buy bars of soap, gamblin' on a win!
Cops were even called to the scene to maintain order and to quell the din!
Folks tore at wrappers and one feller hollered, "I got a hundred dollar bill!"
Little did the unsuspectin' boobs know that it was 'Soapy's' planted shill!
Dupes lost their dough and with a five-cent bar of soap they were stuck,
He pulled the scam time and again and that's how "Soapy's' name was struck!
'Soapy' pulled up stakes in Denver and migrated to other towns out west.
He was successful with the soap scam and was adept at hidin' aces in his vest!
He made his way to Creede where he established the Orleans Gamblers Saloon.
There, 'Soapy' was involved in nefarious affairs and left town none too soon!
The gold rush was on in the Yukon and he pined to go there ere it was too late.
He arrived in Skagway and later on in Juneau where he was to meet his fate.
'Soapy' met his end in a gunfight and his final words were, "My God, don't shoot!"
Thus ends the ballad of 'Soapy' Smith, that swindlin', cheatin', rotten galoot!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
el dorado, cowboy-western, funny
Form:
Rhyme
Hershey, Pennsylvania’s a place I would like to go.
It is essentially a chocolate El Dorado.
This little town somewhere in the middle of the state
is truly a place many people consider great.
It’s just full of chocolate goodies without any doubt.
You can get chocolate bars with almonds, or some without,
and peanut butter cups, kisses, and others galore;
enough is there to satisfy anyone, and more!
This is a town I would be proud to call my birthplace
if I were made of chocolate with “HERSHEY” on my face.
A bunch of “Whatchamacallits “would be my brothers,
and tall stacks of Kit-Kat bars I would call my sisters.
How many people would want to take a bite of me?
Supposing this was all true and not mere fantasy?
I would have plenty of relatives for all to see.
Together, we would be one big happy family.
Categories:
el dorado, adventure, imagination, travel, people,
Form:
Rhyme
I was on me way to Adelaide, to watch the Blues take on the Crows,
it’ll be a super effort winning there, as every Vic here knows,
I could have flown and watched the game and done it in one day,
but decided on a tourist drive to catch the sights along the way.
I took the narrow winding path along the Ocean Road;
took in mountain views of sandy beaches, these special vistas showed;
spent one night in the Grampians with Zumsteins Kangaroos
and another in the Little Desert; a garden filled with many hues.
Then I drove down to Mount Gambier to visit rellies there,
I toured around the blue lakes and the limestone caverns where
stalactites and stalagmites grew from the roof and floor,
and then I found my el dorado… a McDonalds store.
Since the morning I left Melbourne, it’s been all fruit and weet bix,
so its great to find the ‘Golden Arches’ where I get my ‘Macca’ fix;
a nice thick super burger, with a coke and double fries,
and it’s waiting on the counter and so attractive to my eyes.
I found a table that was empty, put down the tray and ate a chip,
placed a serviette upon me lap, grabbed the coke and took a sip,
unwrapped the burger, ate more chips; had another drink of coke,
then watched a couple sit beside me, but neither of them spoke.
It’s obvious that they are married and that both are elderly,
but it seemed strange they ordered, the very same as me,
then I watched the fella cut the burger, in half carefully,
divide the chips and into glasses, pour the coke out equally.
I must admit I felt embarrassed as I watched this small charade,
and thought that being pensioners, times must be pretty hard,
so with a caring gesture, I offered them my burger, chips and coke,
but they refused me generous offer, and the lady quietly spoke.
“I know you mightn’t understand”, and then continued with her riddle,
“But through our married fifty years, we’ve split things down the middle,
what we buy is always shared, including everything we eat.”
Then she sat and watched her husband, scoff his Macca’s treat.
Here I am still quite confused, as I scrutinize what’s going on,
she’s watching as her food goes cold, so I asked her what was wrong,
“Oh nothings wrong” she said, then took a drink to quench her thirst,
“It just so happens that its Harold’s day, to use the false teeth first.”
Categories:
el dorado, food, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
" She was born in 219 A.D.,
I met her in 235 when she was 16 years old.
I was working hard with her father as a mercenary
from a Belgium territory, trying to persuade a chieftan named Horaic
to attack the Roman garrison west of the river.
Tamitha had the energy of a robin & the curiosity of a pirate,
she loved hearing accounts of mesoamerican cultures;
I gave her a jade owl from the Andes
which she held onto like her heart depended on it.
One day a couple of bandits scared her off from the woods,
she fell from her horse,
broke a few ribs which puntured her lung
and she died nine days later in agony;
there is a balance to the Cosmos that I cannot interfere with.
1300 years later I found a girl that resembled Tamitha,
brought her to an artist named Michaelangelo
and arranged for him a Vatican Commission
if he would draw for me that picture
based on my recollection and this girl from Constantinople."
I asked, are you capable of having children,
Lucifer answered with a pensive dignity, " Yes,
actually I possess the libido of a rattle snake
but I dare not concieve,
any biological offspring of mine
may successfully challenge my supremacy."
So that Biblical story of you and Eve
is simply a myth like the lost city of El Dorado,
He replied, " Since you have broached the subject
I'll reveal something that is very precious information for me,
Jesus, whose original name was Mephistopheles,
was my first and only biological Son.
Mephistopheles was born so long ago
that the stars you see today
in the canopy of heaven were but afterthoughts to him
when his regicide was affected.
We coexisted for millenia,
sometimes happily, sometime scornfully,
our goals were more regional then,
not so much global, he lacked access to primordial wisdom
and consequently developed philosophy & strategy
diametric to fundamental nature."
J.A.B.
Categories:
el dorado, creation,
Form:
Ode
"Dreamy Cadillacs"....COLOURFICATION
Decided one Sunday afternoon to indulge in something I love!
Being "Olde School" with an "e" and a Cadillac classic car buff.
I went to this show and was blown away by all the "Cads" I did see!
I'll describe some of them to you! Come take this journey with me!
The first to drop my jaw was a '50's turquoise El Dorado!
Just when I thought I'd seen it all there was a Brougham that was indigo!
By now I am reeling! These cars are quite the sight to be seen...
"Oh No!!!.... Are you kidding me?, that '60's Coupe De Ville is tangerine!"
Once again, I am in a daze by what just caught my sight...
a '77 Eldo Biarritz that is seashell and malachite!
Ok, I was in love and in Heaven and "OH WOW!"....don't you know,
there was a '68 Fleetwood De Ville that was platinum and fandango!
"Stick a fork in me! I'm done!", I said! I was ready to pack it in!
When I turned around, there it was!....Another Eldo that was aureolin!
"Ok get me a stretcher!"...I needed something to lie down on!
There was a '74 Cadillac hearse that was the beautiful color of fawn!
Now although this was not a classic, it was decked out and beautifully made-
the best for last at the end of this journey was a rosso corsa Escalade!
WTA-IV 3/12/2016
"Dreamy Cadillacs"
for COLOURFICATION Contest by Silent One
Turquoise, Indigo, Tangerine, Seashell, Malachite,
Platinum, Fandango, Aureolin, Fawn, Rosso Corsa
*With some of the truly eloquent winners already submitted,
this was a fun challenge*
Categories:
el dorado, car, dream, imagery, passion,
Form:
Free verse
In the spring of 1880 young Clifford Griffin immigrated from England to Colorado.
The death of his fiancee left him bereft and he was searchin' for his El Dorado.
He settled in Silver Plume where he and his brother bought the Seven Thirty Mine.
Clifford and his brother Heneage became very rich from ore that assayed very fine!
With all his riches, Clifford chose to live in his lonely cabin above the town.
His only companion was his treasured violin which he played with some renown!
His melancholy melodies wafted down from his mountain aerie 'most every night,
To be heard by the whiskey-guzzlin' hard-scrabble miners to their delight!
Clifford always dressed in black, enjoyed fine cigars and was quite the dashin' bloke!
He seemed content with his solitary life and in business was as solid as an oak!
Alas, death cast its gloomy pall high above Silver Plume one moonlit night.
Instead of sweet violin music, a single shot was heard that left the town affright!
Next morn his mortal remains were found in a grave he'd dug for himself alone.
His heart-broken brother found the pistol with which his brains he had blown.
A grand monument was erected atop the mountain just above Silver Plume,
At the very spot where Clifford lay midst the ponderosa and Columbine bloom!
Mysterious events now occur on that lonely mountainside accordin' to local lore!
'Tis said on moonlit nights sad violin music is heard below on the valley floor!
Folks have seen a black-clad phantom smokin' a cigar and drawin' a bow,
Playin' melancholy music and a wraith in Clifford's likeness a-swayin' to and fro!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Entry for Carol Eastman's "Story Poem" Contest
Categories:
el dorado, death, mystery,
Form:
Ballad
I've ventured far from Indiana, the home soil of my birth,
To many exotic and exciting places all about this earth.
I've seen majestic Mount Fuji from the Kanto Plain of Tokyo.
But I'd rather marvel at Pikes Peak right here in Colorado!
I've traveled the rugged Khyber Pass in ancient Pakistan,
And saw sumo wrestling and cherry blossoms in Japan.
The alabaster city of Casablanca I've visited in Morocco,
But I'd rather tour old ghost towns right here in Colorado!
Magnificent Mount Vesuvius I've seen across Naples Bay.
In Holland I've seen windmills and tulips in vast display.
I've seen the swallows returning to San Juan Capistrano.
'Tis more thrilling to see eagles soar the pristine skies of Colorado!
In Bermuda I've lolled upon the beaches of pink sand,
And have viewed the towering Alps of Switzerland.
Mayan ruins I've scampered over in Old Mexico,
But I'd rather explore the ruins of Mesa Verde in Colorado!
I've climbed the Tower of Pisa rewarded with a view divine,
And visited the quaint Principality of Liechtenstein.
Some folks strive for a lifetime seeking their El Dorado.
I've found mine right here in Colorful Colorado!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 Tracie's " Where in the World..." Contest - Dec 2011
Categories:
el dorado, places, old, old,
Form:
Rhyme
Men have searched throughout history
For a city made of gold
So much in fact it has become legendary
This city that has yet to unfold
Some have even died I am told.
The story says, a chief had an initiation
Covered in gold dust and jumping
A lake bottom became his situation
Now known as the golden king
Where is El Dorado they would sing?
Legends grew from a king to a city
Spaniards knew this gold had to be won
Expeditions to discover it were plenty
One such Conquistador even discovered the Amazon
Female warriors there had them on the run.
If you have not guessed this legend yet
It is El Dorado or City of Cibola
That all were searching to get
Nicholas Cage tried finding it in the cinema
A fake explorer made the most pesetas.
Categories:
el dorado, adventure, fantasy, historycity,
Form:
Quintain (English)
Slimy gloppy corn smut
Smeared on a tortilla
Tastes like a monkey's butt
Thank you, Pancho Villa.
Crows' hearts in chili sauce
Beer-battered crickets
Bad luck and double-cross
Ten dollar tickets.
Bar fight in El Dorado
Devil on the trail
Mule train in Colorado
Bandits of the rail.
Vampires and gunslingers
Snakes off the grill
Harlots, saloon keepers,
Ghosts of Boot Hill.
Categories:
el dorado, food, fun, horror, insect,
Form:
Rhyme