Long Cowboy western Poems
Long Cowboy western Poems. Below are the most popular long Cowboy western by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cowboy western poems by poem length and keyword.
It was high noon in Dodge City, Kansas on that hot and sultry day.
The sheriff was makin' his leisurely rounds on Old Dan, his faithful bay.
Rowdy cowpokes was wettin' their gullets tossin' whiskey down.
That mornin' they'd herded their steers to the railhead jes' east of town!
After bein' on the trail fer weeks they was ready to go on a drunken toot!
The sheriff had been through this before and was ready to settle any dispute!
He was lanky with a leathered face and wore a .44 slung low on each hip.
He was fast on the draw as shown by a dozen notches on each grip!
The cowboys convened at the Long Branch Saloon when an uproar was heard!
They was settlin' an issue with Slick, the resident gambler, that had occured!!
They was yellin' and cussin' tryin' to git their paws on that miserable cheat!
A brawl erupted and shots was fired - the fight spilled out into the street!
The sheriff arrived on the scene and expertly drew his blazin' guns!
After the smoke had settled, three fellers was sprawled upon their buns!
Their pals, havin' seen the odds, hopped on their hosses and took to hoof!
The gallant sheriff triumphed once agin and thus ended the daily spoof!
When the swirlin' dust had settled and the billowin' smoke had dissipated,
The tourists who saw this excitin' event cheered those who had participated!
I reckon you thought a bit of history was bein' played out in old Dodge City!
(If I "steered" you in that direction with this bull, what a doggone pity!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Hero Cowboys
The peaks of the Rocky Mountains
The mighty rivers of the northwest
The epic wastelands of the south
The endless miles of grass in the east
Men wandered surviving them all
Horses were their only family
Their guns their only friends
Every hill could bring a new life
Every turn hides death from a piece of lead
Names like Gene, Roy, Tom and Audie
They lived every Saturday afternoon
Fighting in a small town’s saloon
Shooting the bad man in a gunfight
They never hurt an innocent
They lit up a dark movie screen
To millions of boys they were heroes
Always fighting for the power of right
They always got the girl in the end
Where have the western heroes gone
The ones who were faithful to their characters
Hollywood has moved on
They don’t make heroes any longer
They are only found in fifty year old reruns
If you are lucky enough to find them
Old CAP'N CRUNCH was hanging out one day
With the bunch at SPECIAL K Ranch
When FROOT LOOPS from the city rode by
With their pay CHEX in their pants
Greeted them each with warm CHEERIOS
Asked them if they'd ever SHREDDED WHEAT
They were full of PEP and said no not yet
His shock was TOTAL and COMPLETE
So he thought he'd show these SUGAR PUFFS
Just how cow pokes get their KIX
He mounted his faithful horse APPLE JACKS
And performed a bunch of neat TRIX
He turned on the JETS and performed like a vet
Wearing LUCKY CHARMS on his belt
Landed on his MUFFET when his horse reared up
Crushed his NUTS 'N HONEY they swell't
©Jack Ellison 2012
Continued From:
5. Billy, the Kid Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195851
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Billy was a lad of many aliases. William Henry McCarty is believed to be his birth name.
Alias Henry McCarty, Alias Henry Antrim,
Alias William Antrim Jr are all one and the same.
Kid Antrim was another alias that Billy became known to be.
His most common alias was simply The Kid.
Then one day suddenly he was William H Bonney
and finally, The Most Legendary Billy the Kid.
At the age of 12, legend says that he stabbed a man to death
because the man insulted his mother.
Legend also says that he killed a man for every year of his life.
It's been said that he was killed by a man once his friend.
Both were always seen hanging around with each other,
but it's also been said that The Kid was shot dead
because of his love for a woman that night.
Billy always fought to stay alive, when others would just accept their fate.
He did back then what he needed to do in order to survive.
It was kill or be killed if you dared to hesitate.
The Kid may have done some things that many can't justify.
Even so, his young life ended far too early to die.
Was he a victim of his time or was he truly the bad guy?
His entire truest to life story is about to unfold. Afterward you can decide.
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7. Catherine McCarty
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195847
He is a young boy turned man before his time
He is someone with a dream
Who shows compassion for his work
He wakes before dawn and drinks his coffee without cream
Who along his journey always finds an adventure
He is a cowboy at heart
Riding in the saddle
Eating meals over open fire
Watching his cattle
He is trying to make a dime
Leaving everything behind
Meeting new faces
He is genuine and heartfelt
He is neither a lover or a fighter
He is one with the land
He gives everything to the land
His soul and his life
He eats, sleeps, rides, and will die on the land
He is consumed by the land
He is a cowboy and will always be classified as a cowboy
With his cowboy hat and wrangler jeans hidden by his brown duster
Seated upon on an iron horse
I look at him and say to myself "I wish i could be like him- free"
Continued From:
11. BTK Coming Attractions Part 3
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195843
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Billy the Kid's Great Escape (Continued)
Billy entered the outhouse closing the door behind him.
"Let's not take too long in there Kid," Bell said with a humorous grin.
While in the outhouse Billy managed to slip one of his hands out of his handcuff.
"You fall in there Kid," Bell laughed, "You've been in there long enough."
"I'm coming out now Bell," Billy said opening the door.
"Sorry I took so long Bell. I must have ate something bad for sure."
Deputy Bell then escorted Billy back to the jail cell.
Once inside, Billy spun around and smacked hard Deputy James Bell.
Bell lost his balance, dropped his rifle and was momentarily stunned.
"Hands Up Bell!," the Kid yelled. In his hand was a gun.
"Please don't do it Bell," Billy pleaded, but Bell tried to run.
The Kid had no choice but to do what had to be done.
He shot and killed Bell, then went for Ollinger's shotgun.
The Kid never found pleasure in killing, but Ollinger was indeed the exception.
Knowing that Ollinger heard the gunfire, Billy stood by the window
and waited for Ollinger to appear in the street down below.
One senior named Godfrey saw Bell fall dead down the stairs.
The moment probably gave Godfrey a few more grey hairs.
Ollinger ran out into the street as Godfrey screamed, "The Kid's killed Bell!"
Ollinger looked up into both barrels of his own shotgun and whispered,
"Now he's killed me as well."
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13. BTK Coming Attractions Part 5
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195839
It's been years since I've heard that lonesome whistle blow
Or smelled the smoke along the track
And I've been getting the urge to go
As my memories carry me back
There's an old railway station with its' doors boarded up
Thats a monument to days gone by
It holds stories of passion, triumphs and love
And it brings a tear to my eye
I want to ride these rails till the day I die
I want to see the cities passing by
To hear that lonesome whistle cry
And to camp out in the rain
I want to feel the freedom that the railroad brings
Listen to the song that the bluebird sings
Visit places where I can spread my wings
Oh God I miss the train
There's an open road calling out to me
There's a lot of places I want to see
The lure of the rails won't let me be
And it's driving me insane
I just don't know what I want to do
To settle down would make me blue
Always looking for something new
Oh God I miss the train
I walked those railroad tracks
When I was just a kid
Throwing stones, singing songs
Never kept my feelings hid
I'd sit on those wooden benches
And watch the old man sell tickets to places far away
And daydream of cowboys and outlaws riding the ranges
On a hot and sultry day
Now those days are no more
But I'm still longing for
The mountain and valley and plain
Although I still yearn
I can never return
Oh God I miss the train.
Continued From:
8. Catherine McCarty Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195846
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Congratulations Billy
There was the usual exchange of foul words and light shoving around,
but then "Windy" rushed Billy and threw him down to the ground.
He sat on Billy's chest pinning his arms down to the floor.
He punched and smacked Billy's face. Each blow was more vicious than the one before.
Billy called upon all of his strength that he could possibly muster
and tried to work his 41 caliber out of his holster.
"That's enough Windy! You're killing the kid!" some concerned bar room patrons did roar.
A gunshot was heard. There wasn't a single spoken word
as Frank "Windy" Cahill rolled lifelessly to the floor.
Billy struggled to his feet. His bloodied face was so swollen he could barely see.
His smoking gun was still clenched in his shaking hand.
Congratulations Billy. Now look what you've done.
You've gone and killed your very first man.
Tales of this incident have been told far and wide from one extreme to the other,
such as the merciless killer kid who gunned down the helpless blacksmith
and then left the bar whistling without a care or bother,
but eye witnesses attest that the first version describes it best
and that the following quote seems most accurate and right.
"I never saw no killer. I saw a scared beat up boy run out of the cantina that night."
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To Continue Go To:
10. BTK Coming Attractions Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195844
Come and sit here by the fire
Watch the flickering firelight
Let me touch your lips with mine
Will you keep me warm tonight
I've been here reminiscing
Just feeling kind of sad
Wondering why angels love outlaws
And all the times we had
We've been through Hell together
Feeling the pleasure and the pain
Stood side by side against the world
In the sunshine and the rain
Outlaws live their lives on the edge
Their castles built with sand
Why angels fall in love with them
It's hard to understand
So while we're sitting by this fire
And thinking of all the times you cried
This outlaw loves his angel
I want you forever by my side.
I'm very small
I am called Standing Tall
My story to be read as i live through it all.
Our Dakota lands are forest and vast
Where our ancestors have hunted
From long in the past.
Our tribes are, a confederation of seven
With our language of Lakota, Sioux heaven
We stand proud as we remember our past
And look to our gods, to make it all last.
A silhouette on the prairie hill i see
This shape in the distance is new to me
As we sleep in the night, we hear guns and blows
We arise from our camp, to look for the noise
We creep on the prairie to their surprise
Under the moon, where the land would flow
No longer the Buffalo.
We mount our ponies to challenge these men
What gives them this right to kill and maim
Bodies of beasts, furs cut away
Missing heads, a ghastly slay.
On reaching their camp our bows stretched
Arrows screech, hit the wretched
Watch them fall to the prarie floor
Just like the Buffalo did hours before.
Years have passed as we are moved from our lands
These poisonous men, and their poisonous glands
Bringing illness fever and strife
Ending many a Lakota life.
We reach a point in History
Which made the white man sit up and see
Their Golden Child General George Custer
And the Little Big Horn, my what a disaster.
Arapaho, Cheyenne and us Lakota too
Sliced the Blue Jackets, their Scouts too
The US Cavalry would have their glee
At the Battle Of Wounded Knee
Where Siiting Bull would finally rest
Standing Tall's story last's the test
If we Indians had the same resources
Like the silhouette on the hill
These praries we always had. would be ours still.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/native-americans.php