Best Pioneer Poems
Now the wagons rolled out of Missouri,
Heading west on the Oregon Trail,
Through the blizzards and ice-covered mountains,
And the winds, and the rains, and the hail.
We crossed every river and desert,
And we never gave one backward glance,
And if we weren’t too weary each evening,
We’d take out the fiddle and dance.
We’d dance to the Pioneer Waltz, in time,
And the mandolin played right along,
And the children, they clapped, and the old people napped,
And the Pioneer Waltz was our song.
When the heat or the cold overcame us,
Then we pioneers lightened our load,
And we left half our precious belongings
Cast away by the side of the road.
And we sometimes left little wood crosses,
The graves, they were sometimes quite small,
But we finally set foot up in Oregon,
And the music helped us through it all.
Now the years hurried by without warning,
And we pioneers built us a town,
But you can still hear that old fiddle
Now and then, when the sun has gone down.
We dance to the Pioneer Waltz, in time
And the mandolin plays right along,
The children, they clap, and the old people nap,
And the Pioneer Waltz is our song.
Categories:
pioneer, historydance, old, people, dance,
Form:
Lyric
A pioneer is what I am
I don't think I can be stopped by the jam
For I have the power to make the rough sea calm
Because I have the super natural hand palm
I seat down and watch eagles and then the vultures scream
I concentrate to see that I get better
full of ambitions and aiming or the greater
I just think that none will stop us not even the official later
Because beneath to none is the pace setter
More of a speed merchant and a racer
As boundless as our oceans glory
Here the rest saying they are so sorry
We are gratefull for the natural success
Categories:
pioneer, uplifting,
Form:
Concrete
Tough broads with long skirts moving out west,
circling wagons never getting any rest,
now I'm on tv,
wrangling up recipes,
plus sell house wares that are simply the best!
12-11-16
Categories:
pioneer, business, humor,
Form:
Limerick
An Abandoned Pioneer Cabin
By Elton Camp
There it is, way off to the right side
A home where a family did reside
I mightn’t have seen as I drove by
Except a chimney still stood high
I wonder who, with labor and care
Took the time to construct it there
The best stones were set aside
All found on the mountainside
People could only use what was free
Chimney from rocks, logs from tree
Although he was not very skilled
Each man his own house did build
Only a single room it once had been
Sheltering a young couple within
But as the nascent family grew
They added rooms, one, then two
There was no mortgage to pay
Such wasn’t the pioneer way
Luxuries they never knew
Nor any “Joneses” to outdo
It was much the same everywhere
People lived simply, free from care
There wasn’t any reason to feel bad
You don’t miss what you never had
There it was still possible to tell
Where the family had dug a well
A pile of ruins did betray
Place where the privy lay
The family’s barn collapsed long ago
Scattered, rotted logs its location show
The cabin has been empty many years
Never again to see either joy or tears
And when more time has passed
There will be no trace of it at last
When the chimney crumbles away
To eras of time the place falls prey
To me it really seems a shame, though
A family lived there but none will know
Thus, each time that I pass by
That place I notice with a sigh
Categories:
pioneer, sad,
Form:
Rhyme
Divine God
All encompassing
Yesterday's dreams and tomorrows futures
Songs from the traditional church hymnary
Omnipotent divine God
Free from sin and adversity
Teacher and lord
Houses humble and forgiving
Each pioneer brave and bold
Pies and cakes, bread and rolls
Islands of freedom and simplicity
Outreach to the community
New clothes home spun and knit for each man and woman and children
Excellent ways of living
Each person talented and musical
Real dimensions of a previous history, simply blessed
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
Categories:
pioneer, education
Form:
Acrostic
With hammers and get rich schemes
He ravished the mountains and polluted the streams
And never recorded at what cost
He paid for paradise lost
Categories:
pioneer, loss, philosophy, social,
Form:
Couplet
~
Someone's calloused hands
pounded posts into earth’s clay
to circle the west
with stretched barbed wire, foresight
and faith in the horizon
Until fields were ripe
with grain, furrowed brows, and with
deep seeded pride--
For Russell Sivey's Contest: "Mesh of forms" Tanka/Senryu
Carrie Richards 3/19/12
Categories:
pioneer, people,
Form:
Tanka
A symphony of simplicity,
The rugged log cabin with the very tall spruce tree.
Decorated lovingly by the parents and children,
Home made decorations.
Deliciously baked cookies in the shape of Christmas symbols,
A gold ribbon tied to each so you could place the cookie on the tree.
The delicious popcorn and red and green paper chains,
Gold stars cut out of paper and carefully placed on the tree.
The rugged table and chairs set with a beautiful tablecloth,
Candles of beeswax placed on the table with branches of spruce.
The dishes simplistic yet beautiful,
The parents and children wore pioneer fashions.
The women wore long dresses of cotton,
The men wore handsome suits.
Presents homemade with care and love,
Placed under the Christmas tree.
A dinner of home cooked potatoes and roast beef with sauce,
A delectable homemade pie and freshly baked bread.
All cooked by mother and the children,
They all sat at the table, father said a prayer.
Thankful to be together again.
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
Categories:
pioneer, faithchristmas, parents, christmas, parents,
Form:
Free verse
It’s been ages since my fathers have traveled this space,
The gravity and severity of the mirth,
Subjects me to the gravity of the earth,
I’ve lost my comfortable place within his stoic face,
An emissary, …a lone liquid pioneer,
Escaping from vaulted ducts so dear,
I blaze the trail for them to follow,
His heart broken and hollow,
Down his face this clue is running,
He quickly wipes me on his sleeve,
Too late….the others are coming…
Give it up my friend, … grieve.
(inspired by the personified tear contest)
Categories:
pioneer, peopleme,
Form:
Rhyme
The Pioneer spacecraft, launched in nineteen seventy-two
now roams deep space with batteries flat, and nothing else to do.
There may be chance that it gets found by aliens, I guess,
so on it's hull NASA has stamped a full return address.
Along with this inscription are two figures on the plaque
of what E.T will find should he bring our old spaceship back.
A man stands by a woman, with one hand raised in the air
(which should cover his naughty bits since both of them are bare)
On first glance to an alien, the differences are slight
so why on earth do we find more differences just to fight?
You're from a different country, different colour, different creed,
if like that plaque we all stripped back there wouldn't be the need
since as a species, human beings, we are the only one
so come on Earth people, group hug, and let's just all get on.
Categories:
pioneer, humor, people,
Form:
Rhyme
When I was a kid on the bus,
I looked at all that surrounded us,
out the window I always gazed
seeing old fields, half-trees, half-hay,
beyond them rose a forest wall,
maples and pines, stately and tall,
past that rose a line of low hills,
I could never really get my fill.
My mind imagined trekking there,
discover mysteries if I dare,
what awaited in that country
always had an allure to me.
But as I grew it became clear,
for centuries folks had been here,
the forest and hills were settled long,
to other people they belonged.
‘No Trespassing’ posted everywhere,
made my young mind feel despair,
I thought I was a pioneer,
but my small world had no frontiers.
Of course then I became a teen,
travelled often with a ski team,
to the Catskills, Adirondacks,
upstate New York, it does not lack
wilderness to tempt outdoors souls,
whether summer warm or winter cold
it seemed an endless, vast expanse,
evergreens that held me entranced,
I trampled mountains, ancient stone,
walked America’s rocky bones,
and though it seemed ever empty,
things started to appear to me
that though it was a wild place,
humans had long known this space.
I saw names carved on mountain’s high,
chiseled in eighteen sixty-five!
I trampled down old logging roads
that my great grandpa must’ve known,
though I felt like a pioneer,
this no longer was a frontier.
As an adult it just got worst,
though I traveled and saw the world,
the wild west where cowboys play,
Scottish Highland’s misty days,
northern taiga filled with big bears,
but human sign was everywhere.
No hidden lands, no unknown stretch,
no place for people who feel best
away from laws, rules, and permits,
there’s nowhere left for us hermits.
Some say we’ll find it in the stars,
but the cost of that can stop the heart,
you can’t just walk to Mars freely,
and if you could, you couldn’t breathe.
With nowhere left to roam on Earth,
yet still burned by the wandering urge,
it’s hard for us poor pioneers
stuck on a world with no frontiers.
Categories:
pioneer, childhood, how i feel,
Form:
Narrative
The traditional log home,
Where each phase is a miracle.
The log furniture you built yourself,
The stone hearth where you baked your bread and cooked your meals.
The candlelight at night where you read perhaps the only book you had, the bible,
Distant days where you walked to the one room school house.
Blessed with chalkboard slates where you wrote out your homework,
Where school is a privilege as well as learning.
When I rise in the morning I think of how we have progressed,
Now we have contemporary homes and apartments.
With furniture purchased making our living space attractive,
We have appliances you switch on and off with ease.
The lights at home easy to access and turn on,
Delicious foods purchased from the local grocery store.
University and schools where education is acquired with excellence,
The library acquired and read.
Alexander Graham Bell's Telephone where you can miraculously telephone,
God's miracles for us, continues, for a moment I wished to reflect and appreciate.
Author : Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
Categories:
pioneer, faithschool, education, school,
Form:
Free verse
Johnny was a lover of God's country
who roamed cherished land because he was free.
A skilled outdoorsman with backcountry charms,
he donned a burlap sack with holes for arms.
To wear rugged shoes was quite a blessing,
for barefoot he'd trek, soles without dressing.
He donned a useful pot upon his head,
books have depicted, historians said.
He was kind and gentle to all God's life,
though he was childless and had no wife.
He escaped wild beasts, slept under stars,
and had tales to tell along with scars.
As an optimist with fistfuls of seed,
he ceased moments to meet a future need.
Crisp and delicious, he loved apples' taste,
pocketing precious seed to sow in haste.
Imaging orchards graceful and wild,
he planted new life with faith of a child.
With settlers he'd barter for basic needs
blessing them with the product of his seeds.
From Pennsylvania to Iowa's ground,
Johnny's living legacy can be found.
1/20/2021
Categories:
pioneer, adventure, dream, earth, fruit,
Form:
Rhyme
Well! sycophantic misanthropist, verbose agitator of spite
Club footed whore master, couldn’t goose step for his life
Malicious propagandist, spreading hatred in every breath
His wife willing disciple, poisoned their 6 children to death
Demanding patriotic nationalism, big speech carcinogenic
Snickers in vehemence, sardonic grin, genocidal eugenics
Never dirtying his hands, an aryan superstar, not by blood
Master race aspirational, looks into the mirror then shrugs
Doctor of nihilistic supremacy, swearing hypocritical oaths
5 ft 4” gigantic paradigm, inferiority complex, slow growth
Promising victory up to the last, faithful to his fuhrers flag
Cowers from nearby artillery, blasting Swastikas into rags
Hiding amongst his sewer rats, goes insane down a bunker
Mixing morphine with champagne, to alleviate going under
Saved the best cocktail for last, cyanide and bullet casings
Fitting end to crawling malaise, and cockroach infestations.
Biting Satire Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
24/02/2021
Categories:
pioneer, allusion, corruption, judgement, satire,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
A tribute on the twenty-fourth is paid
To pioneers who came here one July,
Then stopped in Salt Lake’s valley, where they stayed.
A tribute on the twenty-fourth is paid
To those who died; to those who lived and made
A Zion out of land both hot and dry.
A tribute on the twenty-fourth is paid
To pioneers who came here one July.
Like Christmas in July, this holiday,
Is celebrated with a huge parade.
The businesses are closed; the people play.
Like Christmas in July, this holiday
Is time for family, and good folks pray
That thoughts of those who sacrificed won’t fade.
Like Christmas in July, this holiday,
Is celebrated with a huge parade!
For "Where in the world" Poetry Contest
of Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver
Categories:
pioneer, holidaychristmas, christmas, tribute,
Form:
Lyric