Long Cowboy western Poems
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Continued From:
13. BTK Coming Attractions Part 5
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195839
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Truly A Kid
BILLY the Kid was truly a kid when found in the company of children.
Many children of his day would go on to say
how much they wished their playtime with him would never end.
Good Guy / Bad Guy were one of the games Billy would play with the children in town.
"Bang! Bang! You're dead Billy!"
Billy would then grab hold of his chest and comically fall down to the ground.
Salsa Bocca recalls her playtime spent with her playmate Billy Bonney.
"He used to bounce me on his knee for what seemed like hours as if I were riding a pony."
The following story might not be true but I'll still share it with you
because it certainly fits Billy's profile.
This young boy in dismay kept following Billy all day.
Wherever Billy went he was followed by this star struck child.
"Do you know who I am?" Billy asked the young lad.
The child simply nodded, "Yes" was all that he said.
Billy took off his hat, dusted it off and placed it on the young boy's head.
The innocent young child was overjoyed and smiled
and then this is what Billy said and did.
"If anyone ever asks you who gave you that hat,
you tell them you got it from Billy, the Kid."
Billy was also very respectful of the elderly
and very sympathetic towards they who were poor.
Many times he would extend acts of kindness towards them.
He was a true philanthropist at heart to be sure.
The newspapers portrayed him as this dangerous desperado,
someone to be hated and feared and appalled,
but to all of the residents of Fort Sumner, New Mexico
Billy was very fondly adored by all.
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To Continue Go To:
15. A Short And Violent Life Ends. A Legend Begins.
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195837
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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10. BTK Coming Attractions Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195844
I have a black cowboy hat I wear on certain days,
like when a night of partying is the only goal.
The wearing of this cowboy hat brings out my wicked ways,
when loudly and with fanfare, into the bar I stroll
and the only thing I don't do is to dance on the stripper pole.
This hat, it transforms the meek little me
into a wild woman , not to be tamed,
I put on quite a show, you see,
because of it, my reputation's defamed
and of course, it's the hat I've blamed.
I should probably throw the hat away before I land in jail
but it really does suit me, makes me look quite fine.
As long as I have good friends to help me post my bail
I'll wear the hat and party on and really try to shine
and of course the blame is not the hat's, it really is just mine.
~~for Carol Brown's 'Favourite Hat or Bonnet' contest
Continued From:
"Quien es?" "Who is it?"
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195858
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"I don't blame you for writing of me as you have. You had to believe other stories,
but then, I don't know if anyone would believe anything good of me anyway."
- Quien es? Who is it?
1859 -1861, month and day unknown.
As of this writing that's the closest we've come to his birthday.
So many records of his life are now all gone.
His tragic, short and violent life began when he was only just a very young child.
He was a lamb among wolves trying desperately to survive
the untamed Old West's most merciless and vile.
He was supposedly born in New York City,
but the state of New Mexico is where he'd be raised.
It would be there where he'd grow to young adulthood
and become familiar with the west's outlaw ways.
His first foiled crime occurred in New Mexico's Silver City.
He stole some butter and then sold it to a local merchant.
Upon discovery the local sheriff spanked the young boy silly.
Sheriff Whitehill then let the lad go with this stern warning,
"No more will I put a belt to your hide if we ever meet this way again.
If you again break the law, of this you can be sure, You'll Be Going To Jail My Friend!"
The sheriff was actually sympathetic. He wanted to give the boy a healthy fright.
He knew the kid was orphaned, alone and all on his own.
He could see that his future wasn't looking too bright.
It's sad for this boy was no dummy. Mary Richards, his teacher would say,
"He was a student who always had his homework in on time each and every day."
He would enthusiastically help with the classroom chores.
Schooling was not just education, it was an activity he adored.
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3. "Quien es?" "Who is it?" Part 3
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195853
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
God simply made man and woman
to be together for the rest of their lives...
it's a blessing this heedless world
has not fully known;
and it's so rare nowdays
to see two people in love,
and promise each other to be faithful!
Is that all so impossible?
Real men don't cheat on their women,
real men give their whole hearts full of gold
to those who really love them;
I've come to know a good man
who did just that for his woman,
and he still loves her although she's old!
Unfaithful men, would you rather have
an unhappy home or feel a joy
as sublime as the sunrise in glory?
Untrustworthy men, give up what you crave;
you can be the strongest man on earth,
and still can't stop the tears gathered inside!
Real men don't cheat on their women,
real men adore and cherish them 'till they're gone;
to be beside them and share a lovely dream,
to console and encourage them when they're weak!
It seems that the truth is never quite square
it’s just a bit catywampus you see
All about the way that the cowboys lived
back in them old westerns on our TV
Them outlaws and sheriffs had old six guns
that could shoot forty-nine times on a load
Look real close and see them telephone poles
running alongside an asphalt paved road
Good guys always wore white and bad guys black
with their pearly teeth that sparkled like snow
It just took a minute to saddle up
and get anywhere they wanted to go
They could quick draw and fire their six shooters
And hit a nickel tossed into the air
But they just could never hit the outlaw
till he got to where he’d fall down the stairs
When being chased by a few Indians
they’d throw bullets out the end of their gun
If they did run out of ammunition
that’s when they’d just throw their pistol and run
A hero could get shot right in the chest
but never a drop of red would you see
The next day he’d be out riding his horse
while chasing the outlaws with his posse
At the end of it all the good guy wins
he would get the horse, the dog and the girl
He would live happily ever after
in his black and white TV western world
Continued From:
14. BTK Coming Attractions Part 6
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195838
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"Quien es? Quien es?" Billy called out into the dark.
He then heard the sound of thunder and glimpsed briefly a faint spark.
A powerful force struck him and spun him around.
He then found himself face down on the floor.
There was extreme pain within his chest as he struggled gasping his final breath
and then BILLY the Kid was no more.
Pat Garrett would gain power, money and fame for the killing of BILLY the Kid.
He shot an unarmed young man in the dark without warning.
That's all Sheriff Pat Garrett did.
Garrett ran out of the room nearly tripping himself over the bed.
If it was The Kid and he missed, he knew he'd be dead.
As he ran out the door into his deputy he ran.
"I just shot The Kid! I just shot The Kid!" he exclaimed again and again.
"That wasn't The Kid Garrett," his deputy replied, "You've gone and shot the wrong man."
Jesus and Deluvina were the first to arrive on the seen
to inquire as to what all of the commotion and noise had been.
"I just shot The Kid," is what Garrett said,
"Could one of you go inside the room and see if he's dead?"
"Go to hell Garrett," is what Jesus Silva said,
"You went and shot him, you check to see if he's dead."
Deluvina however immediately, entered the room to see what she could never again un see.
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16. A Short And Violent Life Ends. A Legend Begins Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195836
Jefferson Randolph 'Soapy' Smith was the wiliest scoundrel in the west!
He was invited to leave numerous towns since he wasn't a welcome guest!
He swindled gullible dudes throughout the west endin' up in Colorado,
Where he earned the sobriquet 'Soapy' and where he found his El Dorado!
He'd set up a soap display on a Denver street and invite folks to gather 'round.
His spiel began: "Buy a bar for a dollar and inside money may be found!"
The rush was on and suckers fought to buy bars of soap, gamblin' on a win!
Cops were even called to the scene to maintain order and to quell the din!
Folks tore at wrappers and one feller hollered, "I got a hundred dollar bill!"
Little did the unsuspectin' boobs know that it was 'Soapy's' planted shill!
Dupes lost their dough and with a five-cent bar of soap they were stuck,
He pulled the scam time and again and that's how "Soapy's' name was struck!
'Soapy' pulled up stakes in Denver and migrated to other towns out west.
He was successful with the soap scam and was adept at hidin' aces in his vest!
He made his way to Creede where he established the Orleans Gamblers Saloon.
There, 'Soapy' was involved in nefarious affairs and left town none too soon!
The gold rush was on in the Yukon and he pined to go there ere it was too late.
He arrived in Skagway and later on in Juneau where he was to meet his fate.
'Soapy' met his end in a gunfight and his final words were, "My God, don't shoot!"
Thus ends the ballad of 'Soapy' Smith, that swindlin', cheatin', rotten galoot!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
The vastness of the prairies
Grassed and green
As far as the eye can see
Grace the lands
Of the Big Country
Ranches so large
It takes days to ride
Herds so colossal
Ranchers pride
Long horned steers
Browned and white
Like the buffalo
An incredible sight
The open range
Inhabit with new
Sheep farmers arrive
Lambing Ewes
With vast herds
And flocks of sheep
Big Countries land
No longer deep
The Homestead Act of 1862
Led to the need, to feed us humans too
Ranchers diversified, and farmed as well
As the Big Countries population began to swell
The prairie lands as big as they are
Could never sustain the bovine stars
Organisation would eventually fold
As grazing rights, the government sold
No more roaming for these herded souls
Fenced off ranches, the modern goal
Barbed wire in 1874
Kept the herds, and they roamed no more
You have to admire the land of the free
Make that journey take a look and see
Vast prairies for past ranchers be
The Big Country