Best Rodeo Poems
As Mayor Tom often says when he's off on one of his escapades...
"Greetings" this time from Milton Creek! It seems like decades
since we've shared the latest news about what's been goin' on.
The law is still being abided here. For that, we thank Judge Horne.
Sheriff Mark is still away on a secretive meeting about a commission.
Guess, it's not so secretive since I just mentioned it in my admission.
The town is safe in the capable hands of Daniel Rodgers for a while,
and deputies Terry, Duke and Mike are always lookin' out for the vile.
It's been mighty tranquil here in Milton Creek and surrounding towns
since the hombres and rustlers are gone, there are no worried frowns.
The law here never lets down its guard against the evil doers of crime,
so, we're enjoying the pleasant atmosphere; a long-awaited peacetime.
Telegraph agent, Jerry sent word that soon we'll be hosting a rodeo.
It promises to be an exciting event for everyone... a big western show.
There's a list of events, and I hope each category will fill with names...
Calf ropin' and barrel racin' will take place with lots of other games.
I've noticed Jan and Tania have both signed up for a few of the events,
Ranger David will ride broncs and bulls, so will several other residents.
Deb said she would, too, although it's a decision she might regret.
Constance will be checking out the animals since she's our new vet.
There's still two months before the first rodeo opens in the Creek.
I'm adding a new wing of rooms to Aces Hotel; a few will be a bit chic.
We're hopin' to draw in nice folk who might settle down from afar
and bring in revenue for the Manx when they belly up to the bar!
Anne-Lise will perform trick riding to begin the rodeo celebration.
It'll be a week-long event, so we're extending this as an invitation...
Come to Milton Creek for drinks and eats... steaks and whoopie pies!
and bring your competitive spirit if you're aimin' to win a rodeo prize.
Preacher Paul Nederlof will be here to pray that everyone stays safe.
Cowboys and cowgirls, strap on your chaps so your legs don't chafe.
Guns will be collected by deputies when newbies ride into Milton Creek
cuz we don't take kindly to black hat gangs. It's peace here that we seek.
papa said
son what you going to do
with your life
now that you have
no money job
or wife
he said papa
I'm going to
leave this town
think I'll
join up with the rodeo
and break them bulls down
Maybe even rope
me a stallion or
even a clown
Son you better
take another
look around
for theres no money
for bull riders
thrown to the ground
or being stepped on
by a horse or bull
weighing over eight hundred pounds
Papa I promise
Ill make you proud
of your rodeo cowboy when I'm done
And promise
not to be thrown or bucked off
to the ground
So papa please come
visit when our show's
in town
for I'll be
the one riding high on
the biggest bull that's found
hanging on for just
eight seconds while I'm
listening for that bells sound
just kicking those sides
of horses and bulls
jumping up and down
with coming out your
top rodeo champion and
bull rider found
Tribute To
The Rodeo Cowboys
and Cowgirls
Hang Tough
RODEO
raise that hand above your head and give a mighty yell
on that bouncing bovine you might meet your bucking hell
devil eyes will hold you and he’s got you in his spell
each second you hold on will mean you ride a little more
one more minute and you’ll have the top bull rider score
It was a hot and dusty day
the crowd fidgets as it waits
bull dripping sweat in shute bay.
howdy folks the announcers say
Raging Tornado in shute awaits
it was a hot and dusty day.
Saddle slipping this and that way
only held in place by weights
bull dripping sweat in shute bay.
R.T. chews on his cud of hay
pawing the ground in anger waits
it was a hot and dusty day.
Flies out of shute now comes what may
saddle slips man evacuates
bull dripping sweat in shute bay.
Riders distract bull hold at bay
while man slides out and valuates
It was a hot and dusty day
bull dripping sweat in shute bay.
Silhouettes and cowboy hats...stake their claim in time..
with cowboy boots and western suits...we also find...
those leather chaps, western tools, and those rodeos...
where cowboys ride those crazy bulls that go bucking to and fro...
Where wild bull heads are dropped and swaying...
as spurs rake bounding hides...
While the fans in the stands are saying...
"Ride'em cowboy ride!"...
Where cowboys are the shining stars in country western design...
as wild bulls and broncos full of spirit are the bucking ones of time...
Where spurs are often used on wild natures kind...
Yea, those wild rodeos are like a TV in the mind....
Where bronco heads are dropped and swaying...
as spurs rake bounding hides...
While the fans in the stands are saying...
"Ride'em cowboy ride!"...
Silhouettes and cowboy hats...stake their claim in time...
Cowboy boots and western roots...everywhere we find...
that cowboys are the shining stars in country western design...
and those great wild rodeos are like a TV in the mind...
Where wild bull heads are dropped and swaying...
as spurs rake bounding hides...
Where the fans in the stands are saying...
"Ride'em cowboy ride!"...
Where bronco heads are dropped and swaying...
as spurs rake bounding hides...
Where the fans in the stands are saying....
"Ride'em cowboy ride!"....
Yea, cowboys are the shining stars riding wild natures kind...
And those great wild rodeos are like a TV in the mind.
Solo, like a butterfly, emerging out of its chrysallis for the very first time
She tip-toed slowly , silently , then ran far far away.
Far from a combination of vomit and slurring speech ,
from the buzzling sounds of the town , alleys , valleys ,and zig-zagged streets.
Far from boots and guns, from the smell of gasoline ,and red puddled mud.
Distant from his stinking sweat and from falling dust .
Far from the present, and even the past .
She walked, crossed bridges, and ran once again
till the sapphire sky turned asphalt brown , and captured her breath.
Under the old oak tree the little woman have closed her eyes.
She dreamt about tattered wings fluttering free, soaring up high.
She dreamt dulcet dreams about a talisman of wisdom , truth and love
belonging to a stranger who lived in a hut.
Rhapsodic as the voice of bamboo pines playing in the wind were her dreams.
Evanescent those lunar limbs that cradled her into a deep sleep.
Radiant like buttercups'glow was the sun upon her face
Exposing her eyes to a waterfall where bruises and fears will be soaked away.
How She danced on that day. Felicity adopted her name.
How She sang, amongst a plethora of coloured thunderbirds.
Along with the chorus of the breeze , harmony spread through the evergreen leaves.
Then suddenly, She stopped. to listen to approaching footsteps , and words.
A tall dark Cherokee glanced at her with a talisman in his hands.
She knew, He was the stranger that lived in her dream.
He knew , this almond eyed girl owned beauty , He had never seen.
Getting closer to her , He got hold of her hand.
and welcomed her presence to his Idyllic land.
(Not for the contest, bur tnks for the inspiration S. O )
Ten words challenge : Plethora, Radiant , Evanescent, Idyllic , Talisman ,chrysallis , Rhapsodic , sapphire , Felicity ,Dulcet.
It must be hard to be a clown.
When all day long you're chased around.
Those great big bull's whose attention you need.
If the cowboys caught up and can't be freed.
Ther're putting their own lives in harms way.
So the cowboy's may ride another day.
The rodeo clown must have nerves of steal.
Cuz the job their doing is a really big deal.
If they don't do their job then things can go wrong.
And the life of a cowboy just might be gone.
Spurs and Chaps and the Rodeo,
The Smell of Leather and Hay,
Lend a Romantic Excitement
To Being a Cowboy Today.
The Last of a Dying Breed,
These Cowboys Lead a Great Life.
They Travel All over the Country,
But the Majority Have No Wife.
There Isn't Much Room for Commitment,
Except to the Rodeo.
There's Something Way down Deep Inside,
Known as a Cowboy's Soul.
No One Else Can Understand
The Feeling He Has Inside,
And the Unique Excitement,
That Comes Before Each Ride.
Yes, He's a Rodeo Cowboy
His Life Is Lonely at Best,
But it Is in His Blood,
'Till the Day He's Laid to Rest.
Connie Moore
There was mister O and sister O
DeeDee O and Baby O
Doggy O and Granny O
All listening to the radio
So Maddie O and Daddy O
Mommy O and Landon O
Betty O and Idun O
All heard about the rodeo
Here comes a rowdy bunch of O’s
They even brought their cheerios
They’re stepping on each others toes
Demar to one anothers clothes
Where's the free kin rodeo
We heard it on the radio
You’re far too loud, you’ll have to go
It’s lovely to have met eo
Copyright © Mike Martin 2015
I should have seen it coming
By the sad look on her face
Instead she had to say the
words
Right now I need some space
Standing by the open door
In her mind she's already gone
One foot tapping on the floor
To the beat of another's song.
It wasn't my first rodeo
And it ain't gonna be my last
I always get back in the saddle
but lately not as fast
Thank God there's a lot more
rodeo queens
Than riders at each show
Less broken bones than
shattered dreams
For those who love the rodeo.
But my daddy always told me
Steer clear of the rodeo queens
Cos they ain't nuthin but
trouble son
Dressed up in tight blue jeans.
Step right up
come down below
welcome
to the side show
See rodeo clowns
spiral down
tendrils
twine around
Hobo
give us thrills
break our hearts
Star attraction there’s
no sadder show revealed
Sure...
to tear you apart
No 8 second ride for these cowboys tonight
As they start in the morning, losing daylight
Their hats are now ties, tethering true
Not breathing in clean air as faces turn blue
Their motive, the green, but not of a pasture
Not men of free will, but now slaves to a master
When the bell rings, it’s chaos, not for a meal
It’s a dog eat dog city, with true faces concealed
They’re just…
Cardboard cowboys in a concrete canyon
Riding steel horses, reigning in their abandon
Letting loose bridles, for no horses they ride
Spending their days, cooped up, deep inside
It’s a sad way
And a sad day
For New York cowboys
Their fishing hole yonder’s now polluted with clutter
As their southern boy drawl’s replaced with a stutter
No chaps and no stirrups, no boots and no jeans
Their lives are now over, at the end of their means
The bull that they ride are the very stories they tell
From wall to wall bouncing, not sitting a spell
They are always in a hurry, no time for the rose
Not much of a cowboy or anything, I s’pose
They’re just…
Cardboard cowboys in a concrete canyon
Riding steel horses, reigning in their abandon
Letting loose bridles, for no horses they ride
Spending their days, cooped up, deep inside
It’s a sad way
And a sad day
For New York cowboys
Just one step and you whipped me,
You flung me in the air,
You flung me like I was nothing,
You didn’t feel, you didn’t care,
And you threw me at the fence,
Then you grabbed me by my hand,
And refused to let me run,
You refused to let me land,
And then you kicked my body,
You tried to kick my head,
You tried to kick my entire me,
To make sure that I was dead,
But then some clown stood between us,
He must have been insane,
And I stood, with one bruised hand raised,
To ride bareback bronc again.
Looking directly ahead, eyes stretched to breaking point, the rider watched with no steering wheel as his huge black, frenzied angry hate fuelled bull charged, bucked, leapt, grunted and attacked the iron barred, immovable barricade.
He flew from the beast. He flew like a rag doll being tossed, and fate decided to use his chest, not his face, to stop his body on the fence. Some of the crowd cheered, some feigned interest, while the internet drugged told of the more exciting and “real life” rides on you-tube.
Crowds of kids imagined there crazed wild rides in their control at the dodgem cars while a new cohort of five year olds had their first buck on a calf in the gladiatorial ring… gates flung open. A huge accepting applause met the first child, the fifth child met a number of disinterested and schedule watching people gauging if they have the time to purchase a pie or beer and not miss the proud horses teased by a rope.
And the horsemen, rounding up, taming the beasts, unfazed by the animal power, the universal anger released by these docile beasts. These horsemen sit quiet, relaxed and yet completely aware of every movement in the cauldron.
The rage, the softly, the loud of the rodeo.
Yesterday outlaws were in view
so what happened of just me and you.
As we both know this is not our first
rodeo,We must learn to lean on each
other to grow.
We cant help they both let go ten yrs
ago,Not our fault our hearts never
traveld at the speed of light.
I know one yr ago the speed of
light led my heart into your
hands out of the bad lands
to grow old with the new,
So lets make this our last rodeo