Best Honky Poems
I have dreamed so many dreams of life in Texas
Of cowboys and of the history I'd find there
So many hours I have been driving
but all I see are oil wells everywhere .
Long dusty roads and lorries hauling
Miles and miles of heavy industry
but just as I felt my spirit falling
A vision of loveliness appeared to me .
Calling to fill my car with fuel
Perhaps a diet coke to quench my thirst
Sat behind the counter on a stool
An angel giggled as I cursed .
She was so pleased that I was from England
She said my accent sounded like a song
She listened intently to my story
Then bluntly told me where I'd been going wrong .
There's a nice hotel in town if you are staying
You can pick me up at seven by the door
You're a nice guy but I hope you don't mind me saying
No guy ever needed my help more .
I drove her to that honky tonk at seven
Those jeans so tight I swear they're made of paint
With every word she spoke I felt I was in heaven
Those green eyes would make the toughest cowboy faint.
We danced then I sang her a ballad
My rendition of always on my mind
We kissed and we talked for hour on hour
Never have I met anyone so kind .
I walked her safely to her front door
A ranch style house on a leafy avenue
She gave the kind of kiss that shook me to my core
The strangest most beautiful woman I ever knew .
In the days that followed I found Texas
It was everything I ever thought it could be
and all the while my wonderful honky tonk angel
Was right there sharing every sweet moment with me .
When cowboys sprawl 'round the camp fire after the days work is done,
They strum guitars and tootle harmonicas and sing to have fun.
Real cowboys don't sing Honky-Tonk or She Done Me Wrong stuff.
They leave that to rhinestone cowboys, considerin' it to be so much fluff!
Real wranglers sing about ropin' dogies and fixin' barbed wire fences,
Roundups, brandin' time and the magnificence of God's grand expanses.
They sing of home on the range, rodeos and dinin' on bacon and beans,
Cattle stampedes on stormy nights, the old corral and dance hall queens.
They harmonize about ghost riders in the sky who've met their fates,
Tumblin' tumbleweeds, cool water, tin cups and eatin' from tin plates.
They sing about bein' back in the saddle again and the streets of Laredo,
And belt out songs about horses named Old Paint, Ol' Dan and Tornado.
They yodel the cattle call and sing about when the bloom's on the sages,
And croon about their yellow rose of Texas and their pitiful wages.
Real buckaroos sing about Christmas in the bunk house and rye whiskey,
Cattle drives on the Lone Star and Abilene trails and a life so very risky.
They sing of the grumpy foreman and when the works all done this fall,
And tweedle about ragtime cowboy Joe and many a barroom brawl.
Real cowboys sing about ridin' the range, the chaparral and dusty trail,
And leave Hank Snow to warble about lost love, honky-tonks and landin' in jail!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Janet went down to the honky-tonk
for some line-dancing and some beer,
down to a joint called ‘Edna Mae’s,’
she always had a good time here.
Old Edna, tattooed, worked the bar,
three bikers player pool, one guy scarred,
a country band played Hank up front,
soon her first beer Janet had drunk.
She joined in with all the dancers
and did soon find herself besides
a blond-haired cowboy who moved well,
with such deep, haunting, grey eyes.
After working a sweat both took leave,
at the bar he said,”Hi, I’m Steve.”
Up and down Janet’s eyes did roam,
he was the type she could take home.
They both did shots, rot-gut whiskey,
then made their way back to the floor,
there they both kept up the hot moves,
for another full hour more.
In a corner the two made out,
she took his hand and led him down
the front steps towards her small car,
for adult fun, they would go park.
But Steve froze at the sight of it,
then ripped his hand clean from her grasp.
he turned and sprinted for the bar,
she’d never seen a man move so fast.
Confused, she followed him back in,
could not find Steve, started looking,
half-hour passed, he was not found,
she went to the bar, and sat down.
Janet told Edna about it,
who listened to what Janet did say.
Edna smiled, and asked softly:
“Did this man have deep eyes of grey?”
Janet confirmed the truth of this,
Edna said,”Come to my office.”
She took down a picture, carefully,
said,”Took this back in ’eighty-three.”
Janet gasped at the image there,
what she saw then beggared belief,
where, dressed in nineteen eighties clothes,
was the young, grinning face of Steve!
“He was my partner’s son, you know.
He rode the local rodeos.
But then in eighty-three he died,
murdered, in the lot outside.”
CONCLUDES IN PART II
Your honky tonk don't cut it no more
all this misery you put me through
your whiskey breath, your cheatin ways
a cowboy gone astray, too many chances
& still you don't see
so get ya boots on honey & be sure to close the door
lovin you is over
your bad boy days & wicked ways don't win me
you wear the devils grin, full of evil sin
what used to be a man, now stands before me a drunken fool
full of sorrow your all washed up
your stumblin words can't save you now
so turn up the juke box baby
this love has played it's last tune...
...Janet’s eyes went wide at the words,
Edna said,”It was so tragic.
Steve would come dance on Friday nights,
with the girls he worked his magic.
He met a woman that that dark night,
had no idea she was a wife.
Her husband came up, in a rage,
found them in her car, ‘at play.’
“He smashed the window with a gun,
they say he was seeing red,
aimed at Steve and opened fire,
putting three rounds into his head.
He fled the scene, up to Glendow,
the police found him hiding out.
The jury his life didn’t spare,
they gave that bastard the chair.
“The wife was shattered by the act,
some say that she moved up north,
can’t say for sure, but I know that,
she never came here no more.
A year later Steve reappeared,
and gave a girl a night of cheer,
just to flee before the 'fun,'
my dear, you’re not the only one.
“It seems every two months I speak
to another young thing like you,
most of them don’t believe it,
but I swear these words are true.
Steve just never had his fill,
and I fear that he never will.
Forever bound up by the wrong,
here his spirit lingers on.”
Janet retreated from the room,
bracing herself against the door,
desperately she scanned the bar,
looking out on the dance floor.
Steve still was absent from the crowd,
she didn’t know what to do now,
so she made for the entrance-way,
for in this place she could not stay.
But outside the fear faded fast,
and a breeze tussled her hair,
gently, like a lover’s hand,
as if somebody stood there.
A simple, quiet presence that
she knew deep down could not be bad.
Perhaps Steve really was a ghost,
certainly much kinder than most.
to spend all of your afterlife
sweeping the cowgirls off their feet,
she supposed there could be worse ways
to live out an eternity.
Bittersweetness ran through her mind,
she said,”Thanks Steve, for the good time.
Tonight stood out amongst the best,
and I pray, some day, you’ll find you’re rest….”
A Honky Tonk Piano
I woke up all alone
My money was all gone
but I didn’t feel like cryin’ any tears
A redhead I would guess
Got me into this mess
A honky tonk piano’s in my ears.
I remember dancin’
Nothin’ ‘bout romancin’
Prob’ly left my money on the bar
That seems more than likely
My eyes ain’t so slightly
Been drinkin’ my share of that Lone Star
I should stop this drinkin’
That’s what I been thinkin’
Wonder who the redhead was I met.
Guess I shouldn’t worry
I ain’t in no hurry
Don’t know what town I’m in I’ll bet.
Guess I should take a wife
Give up this ramblin’ life
Been at this for God knows many years
I see that neon sign
And then I’m feelin’ fine
A honky tonk piano’s in my ears.
Yeah, there’s that neon sign
I’m feelin’ mighty fine,
A honky tonk piano’s in my ears.
April, 2016
Sittin' in a honky tonk he'd just turned forty two
Scratched the label off a beer he'd nothin' else to do
Thought about his life 'til now - he'd just turned middle age
Coulda done some better things if money was the guage
There were things that he would change and some he could forget
But he knew it was half done and he could change it yet
His memory flashed back to blue eyes and golden hair
The tears and the laughter and the love they used to share
She is now a granny with a family of her own
And he's tearin' labels as he sits here all alone
He smiles at the honky tonk it's home as he can see
He will have a beer or two when he is forty three
4-4-18
A voice of gravel wrapped in velvet
Bringing a warmth to every song,
Laid back and gentle as
Every track moved along.
He looked so tall and lanky in
Photographs of his early years
With the trade mark white Stetson
Perched so precisely above his ears.
Rainbow at Midnight
Walking the Floor Over You
Have You Ever Been Lonely
Filipino Baby, Seaman’s Blues
Somewhere in every track
I seemed to hear a smile,
Simple songs of the time
With no trickery or guile.
I think his music still as fresh
As those fifty years ago or more
When I first listened to the music of
Ernest Tubb, The Texas Troubadour.
Lost… somewhere between that whiskey lullaby and His saving grace,
I look in the mirror and I don’t know that face.
Heaven or Hell, why can’t I choose?
I know what’s at stake, I know what I’ll lose!
But the lure of the lights are calling me back,
While the power of the Cross is trying to keep me on track.
A sinner for years, I’m trying so hard to change,
But this new world I’ve found is so new and so strange.
Forgive and forget, they say I need to let go,
Let the past be the past, live for today don’t you know.
He forgave us our sins, and offers His love,
And invites us to live in His mansion above.
I don’t want to go back to those dark places with lights,
I know that they’re wrong, those honky tonk nights.
My new life is better, I know in my heart,
Jesus Christ is my Savior, I hope never to part.