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Cowboy Poetry
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When I die turn me into ash
Set me on a bar room table
Order me up a Lone Star beer
Pour me a shot of Black Label
Don't mix me up with old saw dust
Or let smoke get under my lid
Not too close to that dance floor crowd
And away from that drunken kid
Just want to rest and close my eyes
While I hear an old fiddle sing
I'll just pretend I hear Bob Wills
And imagine that he's still king
4-15-19
Contest: April 2019 Contest 5, Max 12 Lines
Sponsor:Brian Strand
Note: I am an old man and I thought a practical approach to death - rather than a $20,000 funeral would get legs. However it seems the younger generation found it not applicable.
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Cowboy Poetry
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...But his lust for life remained unfulfilled,
’till one day he ran into One-Eyed Bill,
Leader of a group of rough-hewn men,
Grant decided to throw in with them,
They roved the territory, on the prowl,
For ill-gotten gains won by acts foul,
The rush of the hunt, the thrill of the steal,
Doing whatever, whenever you feel,
Made Grant wonder aloud with this phrase,
“Do I really want to settle down someday?”
Until one day when a bank job went wrong,
They were chased by a posse, thirty-strong,
Riding for hours, they found themselves in
The dead-end of a blind, desert canyon,
There the posse closed and opened fire,
A short, lopsided fight did transpire,
Outnumbered five-to-one, impossible odds,
Even for criminals good with a rod,
As Grant fell dying, the sheriff did proclaim:
“We’ll settle those thieves down today!”
Grant was buried there, on that spot,
In a shallow grave covered in rocks,
One day his lover came out all alone,
Carrying with her a small funeral stone.
Said,“I guess I was never to be his wife,
He was too taken by living his fast life.”
Then she placed the stone at his graveside,
Across the front of it she’d had inscribed:
‘Beneath this rock, my sweet Grant does lay,
He has finally settled down this day.”
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Cowboy Poetry
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Ol’ Prickly was dead, shot down with hot lead, and all of his friends did grieve—
But so it now seems, they fell for his schemes – he owned money before he did leave.
“In that dern cuss, I put all my trust,” said Rod, “but he up and dies just like that—
He borrowed my horse and my saddle, of course, and now he’s still wearin’ my hat!”
“He promised to marry,” cried sweet little Sherry, “he told me I was the only one.
But at the wake hall as I started to bawl, in walks three wives, ten daughters and a
son!”
Now I ain’t got no truck in yer bad luck,” said a tall man to all of Pete’s ex’s—
“But that dern dead ol’ Pete tied me up real neat by sellin’ me half of Texas!”
“Oh, please,” the pastor begged on his knees, “can we not speak ill of the dead?
Surely there was good in this misunderstood cowboy whose life has now fled?!”
But an hour was fleet as they spoke of ol’ Pete, who lived by the lie and the gun—
Hearin’ more tales of Pete’s travails, the preach screams, “Let’s burn this dirty ol’
son!”
Then just in a bit, as their torches were lit, sweet little Sherry faints in a swoon—
For sittin’ in the casket like fruit in a basket, Pete says, its jest a flesh wound!”
Then he done said, “All reports of me bein’ dead, has done been exaggerated—
I seen Saint Pete before, but he warn’t no cure and ol’ death is over-rated!”
They chased Pete alone from the funeral home and he’s never been seen again,
But no one did care, just so he wasn’t there – he claimed no kith, kin or friend.
So it goes to show if you’re dyin’ to go, its better you take enough lead—
‘Cause if your name’s Pete, life ain’t complete until they’re sure you’re stone dead!
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Cowboy Poetry
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He was just a stove-up old cowboy,
Who only drank to ease the pain,
And he really didn’t need it,
Except when it was cold or gonna’ rain.
He’d spent his life bull-ridin’ ,
Until he had that wreck,
The bull threw him high, he came down hard,
And busted his legs all to heck.
He’d been my Daddy’s best friend,
Up until the day my Daddy died,
They rodeo’ed together,
At the funeral, he cried.
I’d see him every now and again,
At one or another rodeo,
He always had kind words for me,
Acted like he hated to see me go.
He gave me my first pony,
And a saddle with a dally horn,
They say he drove my Mamma to town,
The icy night that I was born.
I heard he’d talk about me,
And only had good things to say,
He never told me to my face,
But I knew that was just his way.
It came as a surprise to me,
When I heard that he was dead,
I couldn’t forget the last time I saw him,
Or the last thing he ever said...
“I wish you’d been my own son,
I’m proud to know ya’ as a man,
I wanted to say ‘I love ya’,
While I’m sober, and I can.”
Then he turned and strode off,
And his back seemed straight and strong,
I’m not real sure, but I’d have sworn
That limp of his was gone.
So, on those nights when I’m alone,
And hurt gets in my way,
I think of him and the guts it took,
To say what he had to say.
And now, when I see an old Cowboy,
A little drunk and broken down,
I stop and listen to the stories he tells,
‘Cause I know he’s been around.
And Somewhere, Jake is bull-ridin’,
Hittin’ in the eighties on every ride,
Young , and Free, and Wild again,
In that place, called The Other Side.
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Cowboy Poetry
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Elden Hewett smiled at the sight
of Gretta Coburn moving his way,
she had worked here at his saloon,
ever since that dark, tragic day.
He pinched her as she walked by,
said,”Now I think it’s time you see,
you got no husband left to help you,
you’re gonna need to make real money.
“Let me make you one of my girls,
you’ll have your own room upstairs,
you will make more coin than waitressing,
and you’ll have money for all your cares.”
Gretta pulled herself away and said:
“I have told you this all before,
I got no interest in being your ‘girl,’
I’m not working as some damnable whore!”
Elden shot up quickly to his feet,
said,”I’m right tired of this here game.
If you want to keep on working here,
you’re going to do what I say!”
Just then the front doors broke open,
and a male figure paced on in.
The whole room gasped as Red entered
with two guns and a chilling grin.
Gretta stammered,’R-Red, h-how?
How can what I see be true?”
Elden’s blood ran quickly cold,
“Y-you’re dead…I-I saw to you!”
Red just grinned, and said,”Am I?”
Then strode over to them rather bold.
Elden said,”Yes! I know that you’re dead,
I saw your god damned funeral!”
Elden’s grin faded, hand moved to his gun,
saying,”I know your people bushwacked me.
You’ve been eyeing my wife for a long time,
I should just put a bullet in thee…
“But I’ve never been a violent man,
murdering you is a step to far.
So you and I will both settle this,
sit on down, and deal out the cards.
“We’ll play one hand, the winner takes all,
if I lose I’ll go far from this place.
But if I win you’ll pay a great price
for trying to bring my wife to disgrace...”
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
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Cowboy Poetry
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“You've probably figured it out by now,
I am not really a human being,
my home is three whole galaxies away,
and the form that you now are seeing
“is due to the fact that my species can
sample and replicate strange DNA,
but every few weeks I have to recharge,
I'm sorry that you saw me that way.
“This image once belonged to an old man,
I touched his corpse at a funeral home,
didn't want to copy one of the living,
so I adopted his form as my own.
“I made myself look like his young self though,
felt it would be easier to fit it,
and in this form, I feel all that men do,
I know it's enough to make your head spin...”
Jenna just gasped, her mind still was reeling,
Calvin said,”Come on babe, please talk to me.”
Jenna shook her head,”How...what? No...how...why?
What you're saying...it just cannot be!”
Calvin nodded sadly,”Yes dear, it is,
but if you give me a chance to explain,
I think you'll see we're not so different,
that what drives me is a common refrain.
“You see though my people can change their shape,
most of them feel a strong need to conform,
it's even written into their own genes,
go-along-to-get-along, it's the norm.
“But I'm a genetic aberration,
excessive individual traits,
one-in-a-thousand, they lock us away,
put us down as a dangerous mistake.
“I knew once they figured what I really was
they would all be coming for my head,
rather than wait to be jailed or cut down
I stole myself a spaceship and I fled.
“I wandered the stars for three hundred years,
where I could live freely, anywhere,
but there's little life in the universe,
and intelligence is incredibly rare.
“I search to other whole galaxies,
found sentient life on time within each,
both were as tyrannical as my home,
fear no safe-haven would I ever reach.
“And when I came here to the Milky Way,
I admit I was running out of hope,
this galaxy hes less life than others,
despite the vastness of size and of scope.
“But then in a backwater spiral arm
I stumbled upon radio transmissions,
traced them back to their source, this planet,
and found a world that was truly a vision.
“I'd never seen so much life on one world,
and a species just entering space...
I landed in the ocean near Long Island,
I just had to go explore the place...
CONTINUES IN PART III.
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