Best Quirt Poems
I was working cattle with a crew a little south of Muleshoe,
When I watched a horse work with perfection and grace.
I said "pardon me gent, no offense is meant,
But your horse is the smartest thing on this place."
He broke out in a grin and scratched at his chin,
“Name is Bob, I'll tell you the story if you've the time."
I looked at the crew and said "We're about through,
You can tell me over tequila and lime."
"My grandpappy , Jason , was from the Permian Basin
And cowboy'd where it was dusty and hot.
And I'll tell you son when it's all said and done,
That bunch from Odessa was a hard gamblin’ lot
"Now three fingered Willy owned a stud and a filly
And played poker whenever he could.
One day Willy met Jason, from the Permian Basin,
And they locked in a game of seven card stud.
"Things had gone badly and Willy looked sadly
At the money he had left on the table.
He could ante it all, but couldn't raise or call,
So he offered the stud from his stable.
"Now the stud's name was Gyp, smart as a whip,
And he was standing just outside the door.
Willy treated him like dirt and hit him with a quirt,
So the thought of a new owner pleased Gyp for shore.
"And so there was Jason, from the Permian Basin,
Holding two Aces, two jacks, a Queen and a Four.
Willy wasn't saying which cards he was playing,
But Gyp could see three Kings through the door.
"He had to act fast if he was ever to get past
Being treated like an old worn out shoe.
He burst through the door, knocked the lamp on the foor
And nuzzled Jason as past him he flew.
"After Gyp was gone and the lights came back on,
Jason looked at the cards he was holdin'.
Gyp had given him a third Ace and he settled it in place,
And knew Willy would certainly be foldin'.
"So Gyp teamed with Jason from the Permian Basin,
And he sired many a colt in his time.
The one I am ridin', there just ain't no hidin,
Is as smart as Gyp was in his prime.
“How did Gyp get that Ace that he put into place?
I get asked that question wherever I go.
I think you'll agree that Gyp was smarter than me
So I always answer "How the hell should I know?' "
Well, I listened to the story in all of its glory
And drank my tequila with lime.
I live in Texas, it's true, and I think like you do,
Now I guess I've heard it all in my time!
August 26, 2016
For Contest Unhinged
Categories:
quirt, horse,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
I have harnessed my power,
And I have unleashed its full potential,
I am in full control even in rush hour,
I dare not tell the truth for I will lose the control.
Take me as a bulwark,
A shield, defender and guardian angel in a coup,
Yes I have all the facts in bank,
I dare not tell the truth for I need to protect you.
I have worked my head out,
Consequently earning irreproachable complect,
My reputation supersedes my mistakes, no doubt,
I dare not tell the truth for I will lose respect.
I have created a slippery slope due to snowball lies,
The kind to make an atheist convert,
A disbelieving woman believe in bies,
I dare not tell the truth for the sake of the trend quirt.
See I may have a personality disorder,
So the lie doesn’t matter to me anyway,
I want it to be the truth recorder,
I dare not tell the truth for I compulsively lie each day.
Man made money,
Money made man’s madness reign,
Conceiving greed dripping of honey,
I dare not tell the truth for I need financial gain.
Categories:
quirt, life, , atheist,
Form:
Rhyme
You know that you’re old as dirt
When your whole body does hurt—
You grab a cane ‘stead of quirt
And you’re just too old to flirt.
It’s when you have to trim hairs
From your nose and your big ears—
You’re sure that those creepin’ years
Has justified all your fears!
It ain’t that you’re gittin’ old
Or Father Time is too bold
Or the last crow has done crowed—
It’s sittin’ ‘round till ya mold!
But if time comes a knockin’,
Don’t let it be too shockin’—
Don’t take your tack for hockin’,
You’re jest rollin’, not rockin’!
So when you’re payin’ for sins
And seems your life never ends—
You’ll know just who’s your true friends
When they has to change your Depends!
Categories:
quirt, cowboy-western, funny, life, people,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
Orpheus
by Michael R. Burch
after William Blake
I.
Many a sun
and many a moon
I walked the earth
and whistled a tune.
I did not whistle
as I worked:
the whistle was my work.
I shirked
nothing I saw
and made a rhyme
to children at play
and hard time.
II.
Among the prisoners
I saw
the leaden manacles
of Law,
the heavy ball and chain,
the quirt.
And yet I whistled
at my work.
III.
Among the children’s
daisy faces
and in the women’s
frowsy laces,
I saw redemption,
and I smiled.
Satanic millers,
unbeguiled,
were swayed by neither girl,
nor child,
nor any God of Love.
Yet mild
I whistled at my work,
and Song
broke out,
ere long.
Categories:
quirt, romantic, song, symbolism, uplifting,
Form:
Verse
You know that you’re old as dirt
When ever thang done hurt—
And you trades a cane for quirt
‘Cause you’s too old to flirt.
And when you have to trim hairs
From your nose and your ears—
You done knowed those creepin’ years
Has justified your fears!
It ain’t that you’s gittin’ old
Or Father Time is bold
Or that last crow has done crowed,
It’s jest sittin’ till ya mold!
Old sport, jest what’s the matter?
You ain’t no mad hatter—
You ain’t old, that’s jest blather—
You is jest gittin’ better!
But if time comes a knockin’,
Don’t let it be shockin’—
Don’t with yer tack go hockin’,
You’s jest rollin’, not rockin’!
So when you lose all yer friends
And seems life never ends—
You’ll know ya ain’t on the mends
When ya end up in Depends!
Categories:
quirt, cowboy-western, funny, introspection, old,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
I was daydreamin' the other day a-munchin' on my oats,
Gazin' across the pasture at the cows, sheep and goats.
Them fellers sure do live a life of ease as compared to me.
When I tell you about my plight, I think that you will agree!
They get to graze and lounge about while I do all the work.
Often they'll glance my way with a self-satisfied smirk.
I get the sting of a quirt if my duties I should ever shirk.
It's enough to drive this weary old war-horse berserk!
I will readily admit and I'll be the very first to concede,
It's for sure I ain't a handsome, prancin' Arabian steed.
But if I may be permitted to say somethin' in my defense.
I'm certainly blessed with good old common horse sense!
Them arrogant snobs ain't "saddled" with all this silly tack,
Nor do they bear three hundred pounds of cowpoke on their back!
And they don't have that dude a-spurrin' 'em on each flank.
I could get along very well without that, to be perfectly frank!
About the only highlight in my life is some new shoes now and then,
And if I'm able to survive, I'll retire to frolic in the glen.
Perhaps they'll take pity on me when I become old and gray.
Til then, I'll plod along eatin' my meager rations of oats and hay!
Categories:
quirt, life, old,
Form:
Rhyme
Tuning William Blake's Whistle
by Michael R. Burch
a musical prophecy, after William Blake
I.
Many a sun
and many a moon
I walked the earth
and whistled a tune.
I did not whistle
as I worked:
the whistle was my work.
I shirked
nothing I saw
and made a rhyme
to children at play
and hard time.
II.
Among the prisoners
I saw
the leaden manacles
of Law,
the heavy ball and chain,
the quirt.
And yet I whistled
at my work.
III.
Among the children's
daisy faces
and in the women's
frowsy laces,
I saw redemption,
and I smiled.
Satanic millers,
unbeguiled,
were swayed by neither girl,
nor child,
nor any God of Love.
Yet mild
I whistled at my work,
and Song
broke out,
ere long.
Keywords/Tags: William Blake, prophecy, Orpheus, singer, singing, minstrel, ministry, hymn, troubadour, whistle, Satanic, mills, manacles, law, leaden, ball, chain, prison, labor, slavery, freedom, music, muse, song, poets, miracle
Categories:
quirt, freedom, miracle, muse, music,
Form:
Verse
I gained back all my trust
after I freed myself from guilt,
and not suffered much from it;
ah, bravery taught me a lot!
Because of this hurt,
I hid myself behind a shadow,
every thought was full of sorrow;
whatever happened to faith?
I hoped for a serene tomorrow
to explore joy and feel its worth:
all turned out to be a quirt...
digging gold into dirt!
I wanted to feel alive,
transform bitterness into sweetness,
flee from the adumbral prison
where I was held captive by fears;
I admit to have been too lonely:
a complete wretched in isolated region,
no naive to befriend and run away,
where folks loved to drink and connive!
Nobody offered empathy
and true understanding,
they never reached out
but showed embitterment
sneering, staring and wondering
if I deserved the harshest
and cruelest punishment,
for having done much harm
to others with malicious rage!
I shouldn't have treated then evilly
and remained gratified and calm!
Because of this hurt,
nights are brighter than a desert,
moonlight has a luminous glow;
I'm a ghost aimlessly wandering,
not knowing his destination!
I'm the doer who failed to follow
his aspiration and ambition,
not redefining thought and feeling!
Categories:
quirt, anger, anxiety, conflict, emotions,
Form:
Rhyme
Gunsmoke
9/30/2024
Miracle Man
Dodge City had a handsome blacksmith called Quirt,
who was played by a Hollywood actor named Bert.
With cannons for arms,
pared with his charms,
not one person in Dodge City mistook him for a squirt.
Categories:
quirt, celebrity, men,
Form:
Limerick
A perfume bottle’s shape and size may dictate what you buy.
So pretty and so colourful all pleasing to our eye.
But then again it will depend on contents, and its smell.
A little sniff that we all take, is often how we tell.
Some perfumes that we really like, are ones we use each day.
A quirt upon our neck and wrist, is mostly where we spray.
Ensuring then we do replace the perfume bottle lid.
So, the perfume does not dry up, a crime we must forbid.
Our perfume bottles have their place, look pretty in a row.
So lovely that we feel we must, put them all on show.
But when the perfume does run out, the bottles rarely keep.
Instead, we buy another one, on special when it’s cheap!
Most perfumes cost a fortune, cannot believe their price.
Upon the shelf they beckon us, in bottles looking nice.
Designer brands, like Cartier, Lancome, Dior, Chanel
Attractive to our senses, they all have a lovely smell.
So yes, I do like perfume, many bottles I do own.
A perfume tragic I’ll remain; have even tried Cologne.
I feel complete, with a squirt, a different one each day.
Then replace the lid quite firmly, so I don't lose my spray.
Categories:
quirt, senses,
Form:
Rhyme