Best Pancho Poems
Now this is quiet a famous little stream, many untold story
The muddy waters run slow, but don't let it fool you when it comes alive
Divides the United States and Mexico, but it is just a line
Old Cottonwood trees and quick sand, some cross it for glory
A history of out laws crossed it fleeing into Mexico, some did not survive
Maybe holding up a bank or stealing from a gold mine
Long yesterdays ago, Pancho Villa and his raiders came
They robbed and killed, then head back to their sanctuary
Some though him to be a hero, to the poor he was a giver
He was an out law, that is where he got his fame
Even today there are those that will argue to the contrary
After he did his damage, he always crossed that river
Those muddy waters have seen a lot and still active
It has been a battle ground, many old cowboy songs sung
But like history, the old river changes too
Sometimes history is not very attractive
Those cottonwoods have seen many horse and cow thieves hung
Back in those days that what they had to do
The tides of the old river have changed. smugglers bring drugs to this side
No longer six shooters, it is machine guns now days
No more cowboys and Indians, now cocaine desperado thugs
Anything goes there, no such thing as pride
And the old river once again has had to change it's ways
It is all because of damn old drugs
If you'd have lived and worked on Juno Ranch, you’d have come away better for it. It
may not have seemed like it at the time but Pancho (Uncle Frank) would put it to you, an’ it
was for you to decide to do it, what to do with it, or to fight. The motto was, “You either work
or fight, there ain’t no quittin’ on this-here ranch.”
Pancho cultivated a reputation as a living legend in his fifty-some years in the Devil’s
River country of the Texas frontier. He loved his life, family, work and felt plumb lucky to be
livin’ it. He believed there was art in every undertakin’ an’ practiced the highest standards in
dealin’ with any an’ all comers. He savvied horses, cattle an’ the land; and death was just the
gate that opened into higher pastures.
Ride 'em Pancho!
The cowboy wakes before each dawn
With blurry eyes n'a mournful yawn;
Gets breakfast down, just bacon'n eggs,
An' biscuits dunked in coffee dregs.
He feeds the stock some oats an' hay
In growin' light of break o' day.
Then Pancho comes an' rigs a hoss,
An' chews his butt, 'cause he's the boss.
“The sun is up, you little bride!
We're loosin' light! We gotta ride!”
So they ride out to make their rounds
In echoed clops of hoof-beat sounds.
The sun is high 'bout half-passed noon,
An' dinnertime is none too soon.
He eats his beans an' taters fast,
Then rolls a smoke an' rests at last.
He dreams of how he'll spend his pay
When he's in town on Saturday,
An' where he'll go to have some fun
With gals who'll laugh and call him, "Hun..."
He gets his hat an' pulls it down,
Forgets the dream of gals in town,
Cause if he ain't just damn near dead,
The work comes first on Pancho's spread.
Mc Jagger’s swagger, a southern drawl, I fell for
He gets stupid occasionally, bad behavior
So I made him my sancho
and now call him Pancho
The Stones play as he struts through the back door!
Don’t be buffaloed it’s not Pancho Villa he’s dead
Just have’n a fling before what lies ahead
I respect Soup Creek and its laws
Although some have their flaws
There are no guns allowed where I am headed
Anaya’s Steak House, sure like the ring to that
A place of my own, where I’m no one’s door mat
On my way to the bordello
And then soon the rodeo
Mis campanero’s, I’m bringing my charro hat!
Arizona Heat, packing it hard
Deeper then the deepest Chocolate Windows
Framed by long lashes, ebony compassions
Dying souls oppressed by more than the hotness of the night
Mocha Skin in Summertime
Let’s Roll
Impala, Hydro, wood grain and leather
Hot, baby, Bump it louder
Stolen speakers bump it best
West Coast, East Coast, Southwest
Greenback, wetback
Brown on Brown
Murder, it’s a homicide
Of the cruelest kind
Dark Reactions
Light is no longer required here
One cannot see what isn’t supposed to be seen
Here on the borders of AZ, the grim reaper
Reaps openly
Fluctuating from victim to victim
Cherry Red Silvery distain
Drips from guns
Bang, Bang, Bang
Pull the Trigger
Drugs are no longer sins but saviors
Sell them, deal it
Steal it all
Survival Of The Fittest
Mm, it’s hot, so hot, hot
Steamy sweaty Sin
Sultry music, sexy women
Tequila, Tecate, Paradise for some
The Heat doesn’t come from the sun
But the struggle to stay alive
To survive, and thrive
Breathe
Every Pancho Villa needs a Lady by their side
Right? Dolled up, complexion perfect
Hyna, Ruka, Sweet Vixen, Mami Sexy, hit it and quit it, baby
He grabs my chin
Blowing into my face, scent, full of toxic fumes
Drunk off victory from this week’s dealings
“Money is my first love, not you, she made me RICH
So get the hell away from me, trick”
Plunges into my chest
His heart, belongs, to no one
But success
Cold steel, cold hearts, cold money
That’s all he wants, honey
The hottest thing is the tears burning down my cheeks
Weak, suppressed, the insides of me
Tearing down
I need to find a way..out
without..him
Hustling my own
using my own
devices to succeed
My soul, heedless, shall always belong
To what shaped my tough skin
Intimate Beginnings
I belong
To the Arizona Heat
Dedicated to all the people who either gaze into the phone or it is permanantly stuck to their ear
Life is the same game, remorse, regrets and shame
Sick of the pain, the rain and the late train
Listening to the politicians with their same spiel
Turn off the TV, the radio, for a while
Listen to something new with a swing
A saturated robin in the wet garden, boy he can sing
The wind whistling through the air
Try taking a selfie of that to share
On your mobile phony
The sun breaking through warm rays
Those were the days
When people spoke face to face, oral communication
Before texting and messaging over ran the nation
So you have 8,000 facebook mates
Know them well do you, their birthdays and the dates
I can tell you one thing our kid
You don't really know Pancho Suarez from Madrid
He is a million miles and more away
Although you spoke to him today
Hell that's ok
He is only a phone call or a text message away
If you use your mobile phoney.
Nationalist;
He died for equality
May be rest in peace
Jose does the work that the homeless wouldn’t
Yet they blame him for stealing their opportunities
When they wouldn’t even dream of taking opportunities
When they had millions of chances to
Pancho dreams Big
Bigger than the Rich White Boys with Everything
Because the White Boy already has what Pancho wants
And doesn’t realize how good it is until Pancho has it
Fickle, fickle Man
These people expect us to Work Hard so they can Play Easy
But once we rise up, it’s snapped shut, treasures, equality
They end up taking it all away just to complain about how bad they have it
Why is it that I’m working a crappy job for minimum wage
But Sally gets an internship right away, same grades, same teachers,
Except I go to a minority dominated intercity school while she lives in the Foothills
But Sally has Pretty Blue Eyes and Long Blonde Hair, "All American Beauty"
Look at my skin, THIS is Beautiful, to me
Golden Yellow Brown Caramel
They call it Burnt Sugar, but I call it Perfect
Asiática Vietnamita Chicana Chica Fresa Señorita
Multi-racial Mutt and I don't give a Damn
Dark hair, dark eyes, the darkest kind of electric fury
I’m American too, Damnit
Do you have the audacity to say that color makes a difference?
Discriminate me again, I dare
You! come on, come ON
Keep on pretending like your giving me a chance with Affirmative Action
Well Affirm this
I don't want your pity, or redemption
I want EQUALITY, once and for all
Not a cheap imiation of it
What the Hell are you Afraid of?!
Discriminate against me again
And I’ll show you what being American is all about
Come On, DAMNIT!
I'll bring it H A R D, with everything I have
I want to show racist America what I got
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.
Some say that he was the "Robin Hood" for the poor in Old Mexico
Others say he was a tequila drinking horse thief, murderer to boot
One night on my great grand father's ranch in New Mexico, Villa stole their horses
A Piece of Cowboy Fun
I know that once the West was wild
This I learned when still a child
The matinee on Saturday was the best
To see the cowboys clean up the west
My favourite was the man in the mask
‘Who was that masked man?’ I hear some ask
None other than the brave ‘Lone Ranger’
Who rescued all who were in danger
With Tonto who was his very best pal
And always there was a glamorous gal
There was Roy Rogers and trigger too
Cisco and Pancho, to name a few
Hopalong Cassidy, Tarzan and Jane (oops they slipped in)
And who can forget ‘Big John Wayne’
After the flick we came charging out
Galloping our horses and mucking about
Holding up buses with pretend guns
Hounding poor dogs for cattle runs
These days of innocent fun are gone
But in my mind they still live on.
Yesterday on the news of the Internet, with a hot cup of coffee
I get my news on the Internet, this one woke me up
Some where back East, not sure of the location
A sweet grand mother, spent the night in jail, how could this be
Angry at what I read, it took another cup
But seems now day, we are seeing this infection
Her eighteen year old grand daughter doing her work work refused
Screaming the F word at her, grandma gave her a good old slap of the jaw
What she needed, but she ran to the telephone
Probably had the number ready and called the law
Crying and sobbing, saying that she had been abused
The poor little brat, more than likely expected a ice cream cone
The Law arrived, claimed to be a domestic call
Officer claimed that these can be dangerous situations
The sweet grand mother was in cufffs, spent the night in jail
Who was not on the ball?
And they will fail
Arresting someone on a screw ball thought, maybe drug crazed allegations
From what I saw the grand mother did not have any grenades in her purse
Was not throwing gang signs and did not have prison tattoos
Not even a Pancho Villa moustache or a pipe bomb
Talk about not having a clue?
We have to give to the Granny, she stayed calm
A simple drug test would have determined both parties
Of all the tools used by the law, it was not common sense
This is a sad joke, but it is not funny
This happens everyday in the new so call society
And sane people have no real defense
Go Granny go, I hope that you sue them for a ton of money
The Phantom called a meeting for he wished to unionize
the trucks had been delivering unloading their supplies.
Bat man and his robin boy came bursting threw the night
The shadow showed up early to find the perfect light.
The ranger with his six gun didn't come alone
Tanto rode up with him mounted on his roan.
Cisco came in swaying to his mariachi band
Pancho had his plate of beans and burrito in his hand.
When Zero used the bathroom it's there he left his mark
while the sergeant rode in circles all about the park.
When spider man showed up his shirt was all a mess
a pigeon on a window sill do-doed on his vest.
I tell you it was crazy when they argued over dues
all they did was sit and eat and drink the Phantoms booze.
When the meeting was adjourned the Phantom left the room
The heros followed close behind and left the place in ruins.
They should never organize, that should come as no surprise
one has but to realize, that's why they're all disguised.
"THE PHANTOM"
I had dreams of yesterday
I woke up with a smile
My dreams took me back
And it was better for a while.
Jeff was calling Lassie
We had moonbeams in a jar
Perry Como was teaching us
To catch a falling star
Bishop Sheen was preaching
Lawrence Welk was leading the band
And we all remembered the Alamo
When Davy Crockett made his stand.
Clark Kent changed in a phone booth
And brought the bad guys to their knees
Sugarfoot walked up to the bar
And asked for a sarsparilla please
Elliott Ness was in Old Chicago
Taking on Capone and Nitti
While Paul Burke was a detective
Inside the Naked City
Gene was singing Back in the Saddle
With Gabby by his side
And Cisco said "Oh Pancho"
"Oh Cisco" Pancho then replied
Arthur Godfrey had his talent scouts
And the Texaco man wore a star
Martin Kane was a private detective
Perry Mason passed the bar.
Maverick and Cheyenne were cowboys
Peter Gunn was making noise
We learned a little bit about life
Just watching the Real McCoys.
Car 54, where are you
Do you have a secret like Garry Moore
Let's sing along with Mitch
Is that Ben Casey at the door?
Who could forget old Lonesome George
And Red Skelton playing a clown
You bet your life, I loved Name that Tune
And Ed was Toast of the Town.
I could go on for days and days
About the times we had back then
When life was so much simpler
In my dreams I remember when.
there is this bar i went to once up north
it is called les pugilist.
it is a canadian dive bar somewhere
in the western province of quebec.
the parking lot is filled with large trucks
wandering in like steel framed geese.
their drivers touch down awkwardly on
cracked vinyl barstools.
they eat truffles and curse!
water boarding themselves with pitchers
of labbat blue and listening to french versions
of willie nelsons pancho and lefty.
at times their vision blurs and the criss
cross patterns of thier matching flannels
enrage each other.
the only solice they have is a cigerrette
machine over by the window that does
not vend cigerrettes but tickets to heaven
each seperatly blessed by the pope.