Chaps Poems | Examples

Capricorn rain

Across the great plain with sun sprinkled path
they frolicked with the golden buffalo clan.
Dodging black powder chaps along the way
they moved about strong and steady
like a necklace of runaway slaves.

They were cornered at trickster's cliff
guardian angels were on permanent hiatus. 
I guess it just wasn't a prosperous gig. 
Many leapt to their misty valley fate
a few dug in deep to a sacred place
black powder veiling proud- painted faces
within the last drumbeat of a Capricorn rain.

Bareback Bronco Bustin'

I'm ridin' on the range

And I'm lookin' really strange

Guess most folks I'd appall

Thru all the miles of pain

Thru the wind and thru the rain

Wearin' Pap's old chaps and that's all

Freddie the Old Beekeeper and his Bees

Bright orange lobsters pointed their claws at their brother
When someone asked who had cut the cheese
The audience began to have a bit of a laugh with their mother
For they were outing each other, with a bit of ease

Who cut the cheese? Asked the magistrate again.
They pointed at each other; the sorry chaps
They probably both did it, said their truthful cousin Win
He had spent some time in their house during naps

who cut the cheese

Bright orange lobsters pointed their claws at their brother
When someone asked who had cut the cheese
The audience began to have a bit of a laugh with their mother
For they were outing each other, with a bit of ease

Who cut the cheese? Asked the magistrate again.
They pointed at each other; the sorry chaps
They probably both did it, said their truthful cousin Win
He had spent some time in their house during naps

Eyes on the Fish

Hungry for ideas -
a fish dish would help,
an unhinged arm's length away,
way over the Yangtze River,
where, far from the nearest eyeball,
drunken cormorants dive
for silverplated carp.
Alas, any old iron skillet
will not fit this oily range,
I will have to cowboy it,
first, beans and baby powder
to talcum my muffins
while I break-in some roughhewn chaps,
then to rodeo this coal-black cooker,
as I lasso a China man,
a wise angler who knows how to catch,
the natural gas of an angry Puffer Fish.

The Unknown Librarian

behind the plastic barrier,
    behind the black mask,
          behind the goggles,
        behind the paper bag,
      behind closed eyes,
    behind snorkel,
  behind chaste lips,
muffled but cheery,
 “hello!”

two eyes peer out
from cut out holes,
like the unknown comic -
a peerless booking.

perhaps, chaps,
the pandemic lasts
and lasts,
with a song and a dance -
a gong-tastic self-checkout.

Free kick

Love, that's our free kick,
No regrets, all chaps and chicks,
Man, love ya to bits!

Don't Misunderstand

It's only my heart.
Chipped away, calcified
fragments all over the place.
Coherence that's all.
The blue butterfly
a toy in the hands
of little Catie.
Always fluttering
touch and go
playing tag with spirits.

It's just my heart
a very brief second in passing.

One of my guides
wears chaps, boots and a hat,
riding a stick pony.
How did this happen to me?
He is not there for me, 
He makes little Catie happy.
I'm grateful.

Don't judge a little girl playing
like she never has..

Pastiche

It was the last order rush  
All full of fun and chat.
As the door swung wide
All turned to look at what.
He wore his hat pulled low
He wore his dark hair long
And his spurs jingle jangled
Like the rhythm to a song.
His leather chaps dragged
And scraped along the floor
And you could cut the tension
As he stood there in the door.

Someone started laughing,
Then another one or two,
Great guffaws and giggles
You know the way you do.

He glared at us with slitted eyes
One hand hovered as if to draw
And as the laughter increased
Glared at us all once more.
The last Gunfighter?
Survivor of the few?
But rather out of place
In a Saturday chippy queue
He walked out defiantly.
Such an amazing sight,
Ok I suppose in Tombstone,
But on a Barnsley boozy night?

Growing Old

It's not so bad, I say,
Part of our ride today,
Health and mobility our stage,
To this golden age,
Wake up to say,
"Let's get positive, yah!"
Old power chaps and miss
You have so got this,
No need, negative blip,
Ageing process is our trip!

A Wannabe Cowboy

Well, I’ve lived in this Montana country
guess it's been pert near fourteen years 
I call myself a cowboy though I ain't
punched no cows or branded no steers

Ain't broke me no fiery eyed wild stallion
Or pushed cattle across open land 
Never fended off a mountain lion 
nor killed a grizz with my bare hands

I ain't wrangled some ornery rustlers
with my rifle and colt six gun
Haven’t spent winter alone in a line shack
or been in a bar fight just for fun

But I got me a hat, some chaps and spurs
went and watched me a rodeo 
I learned that to be a real life cowboy
is more than putting on a show

Don’t need to wear a Montana slope hat
to live the good old cowboy way
It's more about how you respect the land
and always mean just what you say

You believe in traditions and honor
love, nature, honesty and song
A person who follows his commitments
though he may have to ride alone

If you want to be a cowboy my friend
then it's having the fortitude
to stick to convictions and do what's right
That is the cowboy’s attitude

1960 Superheroes

1960 superheroes
arrived inside our grayscale tvs
sporting fringed jackets, leather chaps, and stars on their chests
we knew they were the good guys
the bad guys wore black hats

You Came

Today I want to sing a song, 
I write an ode to sunny days , to love .
To you and your translucent ways,
Cause like you say : when we are together,  
nothing goes wrong . 
Accepting this , took me a while : 
You are the coffee that makes me better . 

You are that hand that grabs me stronger, 
Your lips dissolve all that is harsh , 
when facts of life start to annoy me . 
You keep me safe from nights of thunder .
You broke the cycle of useless chaps . 

You celebrate my imperfections , 
You love  me just the way I am. 
You always say : I’m precious oxygen 
In the  four chambers of your heart  . 

Since I have met you I’m always smiling 
I haven’t cursed not even once . 
 That guy is nuts - some people comment , 
-He doesn’t know that crazy gal .
But  I just walk and kiss your hands , 
You told me once silence is bolder , 
If you  can  scream on my behalf .

Marlboro Man Mirage

somber handsome Marlboro man on a painted stallion
a mirage has appeared in the dust bowl wearing chaps
his worn Stetson is pulled low,
he outshines the cover of a juicy romance novel
I do not know his name but he takes my breath away
he rides to the west

Welcome To Twerking Tree Tribe

Shining in the distance was a pinata shaped like round bubble
A skinny limber boy yelled to his friend, “I will hit it on the double!”
The friend was watching star lizard twist on mountain with his curly tail.
Chuck, a skunk fox hybrid brought in bits and tatters of the morning mail.

Larry, an unassuming chipmunk tossed around his ruffled lace umbrella.
Dorothy, the girl in the slip dress told Larry he was an interesting fella.
Chickadee was fearful of the palm with the leather chaps and third eye.
Woe is me said the oak tree, I agree. I might even have to cry.

Cartoon petroglyphs rounded out the twerking tree tribe nicely.
Artist capturing everything complained, “does it have to be precisely?”
A turquoise lady bug who was butting in rolled her eyes and said.
You might leave out the chickadeel he is so still, I think he’s dead.

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