Long Buffalo bill Poems
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Hannibal L.
It was during a time I was visiting,
in a cell that felt like hell,
a doctor and killer most riveting.
I shall call him Hannibal L.
This psychiatrist - he had feelings for me,
and he treated me very well!
I was whip smart and HE was whip smart.
In this cell that felt like hell,
I’d question him this. He’d riddle me that -
I and this Hannibal L.
Then I grew in respect from the things that to me
Hannibal L. would tell.
So this is the reason that when he escaped
from his cell that felt like hell,
no fear did I have of the chilling
fled cannibal Hannibal L.
So when he fled, his clues about
a killer that he knew well
would help me shut up a murderer
in a cell that felt like hell.
This devil I tracked, known as “Buffalo Bill”
was eluding me so well.
But Hannibal (as you already know
from the cell that felt like hell)
had given me clues that helped me to catch
this killer chilling as Hannibal L.
Doctor L., how he knew me! Our bond was no ruse,
for he’d gotten to know me well.
Yes, that killer knew me so well,
for "Death's-head Moth" killer I caught from his clues
(demon “Bill” who's now locked in a cell).
And cured I am too of trauma because
of cannibal Hannibal L.
For I no longer dream of poor lambs as they scream
thanks to cannibal Hannibal L.
And his eyes saw my soul, so I now feel I’m whole
thanks to cannibal Hannibal L.
In the sequel, part 2, played by somebody new,
I’m Clarice, and that cannibal I will pursue
on a pathway that leads to a hell -
like a "tale from Poe" kind of hell.
Dec. 27, 2020
for L MILTON HANKINS' "Parody of a Famous Poem" Contest
No apologies to Poe because I think he would have really enjoyed the
novel on which "Silence of the Lambs" was based, but sorry for any meter
that was "off." If not for my trying to match the meter of this poem to Poe's in "Annabel Lee," I would have called this poem Hannibal Lecter instead of Hannibal L!
The wild west created many cowboys with the will to win;
some were robbers and didn't care whom they hurt,
others true gentlemen who courted beautiful women
and fought for justice's sake making everyone shout.
Buffalo Bill must have been the most famous of all,
he delt with the Native Indians and was admired as well;
his horse was swift and his tracker's mind was always alert,
many trails he left behind and those stories evolved into legend.
Hollywood created its own cowboys: John Wayne and Clint Eastwood,
both were known for their sarcasm and good looks, but faithful they remained
to their steed with those images of fearless cowboys, but they couldn't be compared
to the Lonely Ranger for speed and shrewdness everywhere his keen eyes turned.
Some modern folks, when they hear his name,
will roll their eyes and look ashamed,
thinking the cowboy is uncivilized,
with his hats, and guns, and round-up rides.
That somehow they are beyond the stuff,
to good for the wild, and the rough,
following some unwritten ‘elite’ law,
suppressing the urge to shout ‘yee-haw!’
But I think when it all is said and done,
cowboys are truly made of awesome…
Riding swift across the wide-open plains,
coat flapping behind like your horse’s mane,
maneuvering a large and panicked herd,
turning a stampede with iron nerves,
rough-hewn men cooking by the firelight,
coyote chorus yips through the night,
knowing that for all the wind and grit,
it sure beats sitting in an office.
A battered hat worth more than any pearl,
grabs the attention of the cowgirls,
boots that announce you in any room,
be you a mere hand, or fancy bride-groom.
Leather vests that dress up any shirt,
and somehow can even make fringe"work,
a bandana or a wild rag,
with a thousand uses, not a mere fad.
The tell-tale jangle comes from your spurs,
vast coat made out of buffalo fur.
Square-dance, line-dance, twirl a girl around,
to fiddle and steel guitar’s sound,
campfire songs to entertain the kids,
harmonicas to sing the blues with,
teaching the folks to throw a lasso,
then breaking out tricks with swirling rope.
Living life by a strong honor code,
one that good people would do well to know.
Wyatt Earp and his famous revenge ride,
Masterson cut Dodge City down to size,
Doc Holliday gambling with a death wish,
Billy the Kid, criminal, yet tragic,
Wild Bill holding those aces & eights,
and old Kit Carson, out blazing the way,
Buffalo Bill brought the people a dream,
and who can forget, the legend Bass Reeves?
A six-gun at ready, holster right side,
the lines of a Winchester, ever sublime.
Ranches that sprawl on mountain and prairie,
riding the trails where man can breath free,
rampaging rodeo, those guns are fun,
and damn can those barrel-racers run!
Living out of doors, by both skill and luck,
be it on a horse or a pick-up truck,
It’s clear that when all is said and done,
that cowboys are truly made of awesome.
Hydro bill
Visa bill
Food bill
Toilet paper bill
Heating bill
Wine bill
Car bill
Phone bill
Clothing bill
Duck bill
Buffalo bill
Entertainment bill
Anti acids tablets bill
Insurance bill
Bar bill
House bill
Weed bill
Bakery bill
Starbucks bill
Medical bill
Psychotic drugs bill
Dental bill
Legal bill
( for murdering dentist)
Lawn bill
Maid bill
Sexy maid bill
Super sexy maid bill
Misc hookers bill
Feminists lawsuit bill
Internet bill
Cable bill
Speeding ticket bill
Second speeding ticket bill
(to pay first bill)
Drivers license bill
Tic-Tac bill
Kidney replacement bill
Second wine bill
Netflix bill
Barber bill
Uber bill
Russian translation bill
Predator Bill
Y-Bush bill
Donald Trump
Assassination bill
Legal bill
Alimony bill
Stormy bill
Sauntering through an antique store the other day,
I chanced upon some old straight razors on display.
One struck my fancy and upon it my eyes were cast.
I couldn't help but pause and muse about its past.
A sheath of ivory encased its blade - 'twas a beauty I beheld!
I wondered by whose steady hand it had once been held.
It could've been wielded by a hobo or tycoon, I suppose,
As he deftly trimmed the mustache sprouting 'neath his nose!
Perhaps it was used by the town barber in old Cripple Creek,
To scrape the stubble from a feisty old prospector's cheek!
Or maybe Colonel Carrington used it on his perilous journey,
Leading his troops westward to foredoomed Fort Phil Kearny.
Perchance it was brandished by the impetuous Colonel Custer,
For his morning shave ere meeting his final muster!
Buffalo Bill may have used it to trim the goatee on his chin,
Carefully grooming it, so as not to nick his leathery skin!
Could it have purged the fuzz from the mug of Billy the Kid,
Before Pat Garrett cornered him and lowered on him the lid?
Whatever its storied past it now lies there in all its splendor,
For folks to admire and about its antiquity to conjecture!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Benjamin Buffalo came on my tele show
For he had written a book
The world’s oldest Buffalo with tales of long ago
Gave a retrospective look
I asked Benji Buffalo, here’s what I’d like to know
Did you know Buffalo Bill
He said let the record show that I’m a Buffalo
Listen to this if you will
Bill was a nice ’en but he herded Bison
His rope never wrapped around me
For Bison were smaller, us Buffalo, taller
But each of us need to roam free
On one lucky pass he slapped me on my ass
He did have a very warm hand
Back then I was thicker but not a lot quicker
It turns out I’m sporting his brand
It doesn’t seem like that long ago I was heading to the park
Meet some friends and play until well after dark
It was a special time being young and free
Riding the sliding board or climbing a tree
An innocence searching for a pot of gold
Never dreaming of growing old
I was king of the mountain, on top of the hill
I was Robin Hood and Buffalo Bill
Pony tails and freckles were in style
My heart would race when I’d see her smile
We’d light up a lucky because we were men
Filters were for girls way back then
In the pavilion we’d meet the rest of the crowd
While a transistor radio played music out loud
Sometimes we’d lie in the grass and count the stars
Or look at taillights and identify cars
We’d ride our bicycles home at night
On the handlebars we’d tie a flashlight
We shared our happiness, joys and sorrow
Living for today, not worrying about tomorrow
I’m still king of the mountain and there I’ll stay
Enjoying each moment with each passing day
Housemates are sleeping on the couch in the living room as I come down from the loft. A bowl with a fork lies on the living room floor. It’s already ten o’clock. Unopened mail lies on the desk. An argument overheard last night lingers. There are some stories mentioned too often. Some are never told. Bare limbs next door wave in a gust of wind. I grab my keys, go for a drive.
a line of trees
Just upriver and past a foundry at the edge of Bettendorf, a diner in a red building lies to the side of a busy road. A family business, I figure. The hostess smiles and asks how many. I say one, just me. She smiles. Seat yourself, she says. The sight of a server catches my eye before she comes and gets my drink. I watch a match of women’s tennis, as I had years ago and occasionally glance at her. Conversations of families bubble through the room. The server brings me my bacon, tender, just as I wanted. We share kind words. Maybe that’s all I need for now.
the Mississippi hides
In time, I’ve learned to love each small town along the river a little more. LeClaire hosts antique shops, the Buffalo Bill Museum on the shore and a paddle wheel. I’ve made friends with people at the public library and shown them poems I wrote before I take the manuscripts home. Each time I laugh and say the piece I write is never finished. Today I stop by a craft shop, and sunlight glows through a stained-glass window. The woman who it made has moved out of town.
and whispers
Each time I drive I take in the scenes of what I already love. Sometimes I notice something new. Waters rise when a barge moves downstream, as it recalls an era of paddlewheels and steamboats. Captains far away from families navigate their way through changing currents but stay true to the channel. Mark Twain once said humans are a curious species, and I must agree.
This morning, I drove to the diner on a whim, and the bacon was good. The table set for me.