Lariat Poems

Heads Up

I saw a jet, jet ‘cross the sky

silvered high, captivating my 
eye: 

Surely no meteor could show 
natural better, icing the sky
leaving lick-able tails of frosty
air glitter -- 

The jet made circles

a lariat rhinestone cowboy

or sparkly pinwheel in the hands of
dancing child – surely some future
astronaut, making
novelty of atomic flash and fire – 

celestial lollipops

two scoop cones of sprinkled faceted
stars….

he had feelings for this big galoot

She came prancing in wearing a lovely houndstooth suit.
And a silky lavender shirt, and a neck tie lariat to boot.
Her oversized rhinestone shades made her ex yell out “shoot!”
He still had enormous loving feelings for this feminine galoot.

Swing Low

I lassoed with my lariat
a laureate named Harriet;
I rope-a-doped a pope
and washed his mouth with soap.
The wheel broke on my chariot;
it was too big to carry it.
The poet and the pope got hitched;
I’ll be home soon, I hope.

Cowboy Lover

"I didn't want to break your heart.
I had no thought of that at all,
When I told you I'd be leaving
Right after roundup time this fall.
A cowboy's life is lonely,
A saddle, bridle and a horse,
Bedroll, just to keep from freezing,
When he wanders off his course.

If I had a stack of money,
I'd settle down, make you my wife.
Until I'm through meandering,
I can't ask you to share my life.
Dry your eyes my little lady
And let me see that pretty smile.
There will be other cowboys 
Who will outshine me by a mile.

If you find one with a bankroll,
Who can afford a little spread,
Get your lariat and rope him.
Forget about these tears you've shed.
I'll be thinking of you, Honey
As I travel 'cross the range.
But this cowboy is a rambler,
I expect he'll never change.

I'M a Cowboy-

On the dry Prairie and then Mississippi Valley, yahoo buckaroo;
I come out eating choking dust daily, yahoo;
While on the long open range;
This cattle drive I parade;

Moo-be then dar doggies;
Through open Plains and Gulfs in Valley range;
Yippee ki-yay, Yahoo buckaroo doggies;
Got a rope and a horse, hey flowing mange!

Also got a sixth barrel caliber Bang Bang git them bandits;
I ain't going to be in shooting unless it's in self-defense;
Because this keeps me saved me from them Outlaws those dirty varmints;
That corn whiskey on my breath;

I'm a self-proclaimed cowboy;
I'm not afraid of this life or death;
And one day I'm going to be a big-time Lariat Oh, boy;
Screaming yippee ki-yay Yahoo buckaroo wooh!

From the range to the rodeo this is where I'm going to go;
I am a cowboy




1/19/21
Cowboy Poetry Poetry Contest
Rhyme poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier

With Vigor Rode In On Trigger

With Vigor Rode In On Trigger

Our anxiety grew bigger and bigger,
Until someone appeared with vigor;
With a long lariat;
He would carry it;
Roy Rogers had rode in on Trigger.

Jim Horn

Cowboy Howdy the Clown Goes Home

Cowboy Howdy the Clown still goes
To town with ten little shoes on his toes
Purple hair and a square blue nose
Ten grey flowers for Cimarron Rose
An itty bitty teeny weeny cowboy hat 
Vaquero chaps and a little dogies tat
A plug of chaw and a lariat
Two six-shooters and a shoulder rat
He sure looks silly; he sure looks strange
And he's looking for his home on the range.

Things I'Ll Miss

Bags all packed and ready to go?
I wish that were the case.
Tossed some clean clothes in the trunk,
With some things I can’t replace.
Won’t take time to be ready to go.
I don’t wanna see her face.
Leaving behind lots of junk;
Getting out of her space.

There’s some good stuff that you should find
At Saturday’s yard sale.
Cowboy boots, mechanics’ tools--
Nothing fancy or upscale.
You can have the gal I left behind.
You’ll get her better than wholesale.
Watch out, she plays dirty pool,
And puts her men through Hell.

Things with my gal were getting cold.
It’s time for some upgrades.
Nothing there was working right--
Need a new gal ready-made.
I want a gal that’s better than gold,
Without charades or masquerades.
Saint by day, sinner by night,
That’s easy to persuade.

(chorus)
I’ll miss my worn-in cowboy hat
And slightly worn-out clothes.
I’ll miss my rig and lariat
With the yellow Texas rose.
Counting all the things that I gave up,
You could naturally infer—
Though I’ll miss a lot of my old stuff,
I definitely won’t miss her.
Yes, I’ll miss a lot of my old stuff,
But certainly not her.

Christmas In the Desert

Our snowmen, they're not made of white.
They're tumbleweeds, rolled up tight.
No top hat upon his head,
a cowboy hat sits there instead.
His face and buttons, tree ornaments,
boots and lariat, his accoutrements. 

Saguaro cacti with lights wrapped 'round,
illuminate the landscaped grounds.
Old horse drawn wagons get a festive touch,
with lighted garland, packages and such.
Porch rails glow with colored lights,
Christmas trees in windows, warm the nights.

Our little town gets all decked out,
then we gather along the parade route.
Folks on horseback with ribbons and bells,
the horses know that old route well.
Marching school band play Christmas songs,
trucks and tractors carry carolers along.

Floats abound from businesses and groups,
braving the cold, the Christmas cowboys troop.
We all stand up to clap and cheer,
as Santa, as usual, brings up the rear.
Waving his red cowboy hat, in a horse drawn sleigh,
Welcoming Christmas, The Wickenburg way.

Returnee

For thirty years long I fled my fears
Until I was wax soft and white like moon
The fugitive only his own voice hears
His lips trembling swell the empty spoon
Shattering dusty teeth. O the exile
Has returned, now he is out of style.

I brought back no Oshawi gold
No meteorite tail in alphabet soup
Trailing my name, defining soul
As a horse broken with lariat and loop
And climbed the guango tree first
Trying to remember where I put my thirst.

Long love ago, long dream broken
Mother died and the distance in silence
Was truth in pain so plainly spoken
For only birth and death has no pretence
I love my country and it does not care
The eyes of clouds follow me and stare.

Ronald Reagan: So Long Cowboy

Fold your tent now
Cowboy, the prairie sunset has come
Pull the hat low
Over the silent brow, let the horse go home
Without saddle,
It's round up time for you, the trail is done.
Bit and bridle;
O let it go free, and feel the weightless
World runs with it,
Put the branding iron down, blow out the sun;
The mind's habit
Shutting out the endless tedium and stress
Now can reclaim
The dignity that future-centered men
Denied; the fame
Past-centered men recalled and softly blend
With their own hopes;
And none but the dead ever realized.
Roll up the ropes
The cowboy no more rides, or seek the prize.
Rustlers die fast
Cowboys live long, lariat looping ferile glory;
Rodeo past,
The poled hat and belt tell all the final story.

A Cowboy's Life

I didn't want to break your heart,
I had no thought of that at all,
When I told you I'd be leaving
Right after roundup time this fall.

A cowboy's life is lonely,
With saddle, bridle and his horse,
A bedroll just to keep from freezing
When he's wandering off his course.

Your own daddy is a rancher.
He should have warned you from the start,
Should have cautioned you to never
Let a cowboy win your heart.

I'll be heading to the south lands
Until some wrangling work I find,
Didn't mean to fool you, Honey.
I didn't mean to be unkind.

If I had a stack of money,
I'd settle down, make you my wife.
Until I'm through meandering
I can't ask you to share my life.

Dry your eyes my little lady
And let me see that pretty smile.
There will be another cowboy
Who will outshine me by a mile.

If you find one with a bankroll
Who can afford a little spread,
Get your lariat and rope him,
Forget about these tears you've shed.

I'll be thinking of you, Honey
As I travel across the range,
But this cowboy is a rambler
And I expect I'll never change.

Placed 2nd in Ballad contest

Pecos Bill

we bury the past like but not with dread
wounded hearts triaged and on the mend
we bandage the cuts, scratches and mars
slowly they heal with just a faint scar
we pick it all up from yesterday
start again fresh, another clean slate

what we put in is what we get back
tenacity a virtue that you never lacked
you see the lightning, hear the thunder
a red-flag warning that causes some to shudder
an Irish tempest with eyes that flash
you may have finally met your match

you can't say that it is ever boring
you lassoed a tornado with your lariat
like Pecos Bill you ride though it bucks
going till the buzzer with any luck
you hold on tight, with one arm in the air
spurring me on with your special flair
ride on Pecos, hold on tight
this could be the ride of your life

Silver Lining

I guess the silver lining
is that I learn humility
once more I forgive
and love falls at your feet
roping with your lariat
more than you'll ever need
what do you do with the excess?
when you tire of paying heed
when the sky is clear and cloudless
when your limit has been exceeded

Silver Lariat

he told her that he loved her
and that his love was true
he sealed it with a kiss
underneath a crescent moon
besides this gift of loving
he placed around her neck
an intricate piece of jewelry
a silver lariat

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