Long Cowboy western Poems
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A lone desperado rode his lathered cayuse to old Santa Fe.
It was high noon, sweltering hot and dusty on that fateful day.
The handsome young outlaw wore deadly forty-fours on each hip,
And there were multiple notches etched on each pistol grip!
He dismounted and brushed men aside as he strode to the saloon.
By the look on his face, someone faced doom that sultry afternoon!
He ordered up a bottle of whiskey to wet his sun-parched throat,
Downed a couple of shots and gazed around taking note!
For days he had ridden to find his roving sweetheart LeNore.
Now, he spotted her with a cowpoke in a dark corner near the door.
Their eyes locked briefly and she quickly turned away.
Knowing what was to happen, she sensibly got out of the way!
The enraged desperado fingered his forty-fours and lit a big cigar,
Roaring, "You stole my woman and you know damn well who you are!"
Men scattered, chairs toppled and the two men fired their rod!
When the billowing smoke had settled, one had met his God!
Alas, the lifeless young outlaw lay sprawled upon the barroom floor!
Clutching him to her breast with tearful supplications, knelt LeNore.
They buried him in a lonely grave atop a knoll in Old Boot Hill!
Lenore placed petunias upon his grave, declaring her true love still!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
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
Home was just a mellow state of mind
A place a rambling man would never find
Home was anywhere the rivers flowed
Spent most of his days on the open road
Couldn't find a reason to settle down
Morning would find him in another town
Standing still was too big a price to pay
He wouldn't have it any other way
He's a dying breed standing in the rain
Longing for the sound of an old freight train
Sometimes sleeping 'neath the stars above
Living the life he's learned to love
Got all he needs strapped across his back
Too much up ahead to start looking back
Live for the moment. Don't regret the past
All the years go by so fast
In a cheap hotel on a lonely night
He felt the pain and the time was right
He prayed Dear Jesus I'll no longer roam
Tell my Father I'm coming home.
The desert breeze
Blowing across sun baked sands
Lifeless eternity going off in all directions
Tracks of wagons show through beneath the blue skies
Centuries of dust lifted into the air by swirling winds
Covering every trace that life was ever there
Heat as hot as any oven roasts even the strongest soul
Water holes that were there one day
Dried up overnight
Surrounded by the bones of horses left behind
And the graves of a few men
Buried by love ones left to suffer
How did they make it?
What made them push on through Hell on Earth?
In the distance there were mountains
Maybe a day away
Most likely a month
Snow covered peaks tempt the soul
Plush with the tallest trees draw them to the west
With rivers flowing like strings of jewels
Rolling down moss covered rocks
Toward the deep blue green sea
The smell of the pine
The clean scent of a waterfall
Drifts across the empty sands
Filling the few left with hope
People and horses struggle
Suffer through pain unimagined by others
Hours, days and weeks more
To stand at the foot of the Rockies
And get a look at the Promised Land
So they will suffer no more
He stumbled in, as drunk as sin
with a limp and a nose full of red
He ordered cheap gin, and the blood dripped in
As he raised the drink to his head
He sat on the stool,and the drops formed a pool
He could feel all the eyes on his back
He guzzled the fuel, but he kept his cool
As he loaded the balls in the rack
He straigtened his gaze, yet still in a haze
and challenged the room to a game
Then through the maze, with a cigeratte blaze
The surly stranger came
His face was stone, He walked alone
With a beer and a black leather case
with a cue of his own, his cover was blown
On his wrist a tatoo of an ace
He said "I'll take", and he put up his stake
The lushes all gathered around
With a half hearted shake they flipped for the break
While the bartender poured out a round
The stranger broke, with a solid stroke
And down fell the four and the three
This guy was no joke, then he pinched from his poke
and cried out "the next one's on me"!
Ear to Ear grins, as they swilled down that gin
In this stranger, a hero they'd found
They cheered him to win, as he knocked those balls in
they cheered for another free round
He had it won, yes all but one
The eight was final ball
The table run, the lushes stunned
When that sphere refused to fall
Clinching his fist, shocked by his miss
He glared across the table
Like a ship in list from drunken bliss
to stand he was barely able
That drunk cracked a smile, for he knew all the while
That he only needed one chance
In appearance so vile, yet he shot with style
That Gin put him into a trance
His vision was blurred, he mumbled and slurred
Yet to win he would need just one more
And so much as a word, could not be heard
That stranger just stared at the floor
Well he sank that ball, and won it all
and he yelled with a bellowing groan
"before last call just one more tall
And the lushes can all buy their own!"
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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To Continue Go To:
13. BTK Coming Attractions Part 5
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195839
Two old cowpokes were reminiscing about the olden days,
Comparing thoughts about the way things are nowadays.
Spending the afternoon guzzling beer at the local saloon,
Chawing terbaccy aiming near misses at the brass spitoon!
"Well, they is even wimmin herdin' dogies in designer jeans.
Instead uv a horse, they is usin' fancy all-terrain machines!
Dudes wear alligator boots an' jeans with Calvin Klein labels.
Ya kin bet they won't curry a horse er muck th' stables!"
"Each mornin' th' boss has a tooth-grindin' decision to weigh;
Will it be th' helicopters er pick-ups fer th' roundup today?
It wuz no big decision whut we wuz to use, uv course,
We'd jes' saddle up an' ride th' trail on our faithful horse!"
"I've even heerd tell they now uses cell phones to keep in touch.
We wuz jes' outta luck if'n we got in a serious clutch.
Fer chuck we had beans, pertaters an' applesauce.
Nowadays, if'n they don't git fancy grub they gits mighty cross!"
"I reckon the things we is talkin' about ain't politically correct,
But I 'spose it's a good thing now an' agin to recollect,
On how us ol' fellers did th' job in good ol' yesteryear.
Ol' pard, let's mosey up to th' bar an' git another beer!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
"He was a brave, resourceful and honest boy. He would have been a successful man under
other circumstances. I loved the youngster in the old days and can say now after the passing
fifty years that I still love his memory. He has gained an unfair and undeserved reputation.
Most of the stories told about him are simply not true at all. He was born into poor
circumstances and did what he did to get by. He was a thousand times better and braver
than any man hunting him." - George Coe, close friend
He was a remarkable boy. Far above the average of the young men of those times and he
undoubtedly had the making of a fine man in him." - Susan McSween, close friend
He had a great personality and could ingratiate himself in people's good graces very quickly.
He had laughing blue eyes, always smiling or laughing, very accommodating and good
hearted. He had an innocent timid look and all of this took with the girls at once."
- Lily Casey Klasner, resident
"All the wrongs have been charged to him, yet we who really knew him know that he was
good and had fine qualities. We have not put our impressions of him into print and our
silence has been the cause of great injustice to him." - Martin Chavez, close friend
"He (The one who killed him) was afraid to go back into the room to make sure of whom he
had shot. I went in and was the first to discover that they had killed my little boy. I hated
those men and I'm glad I've lived long enough to see them all dead and buried."
- Deluvina Maxwell, very close friend
"He has gained an undeserved and unfair reputation to this very day,
and so his truest to life story written poetically is my mission to set the record straight."
- William A Cleator, Me
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That last quote of mine actually does rhyme poetically,
and so that justifies my posting all of these documented quotes from history
about this well known historical figure, but who is he?
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To Continue Go To
2. "Quien es?" "Who is it?" Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195856
I’m a roving cowboy atop the finest steed
I look upon this arid land with nothing here to eat.
But used I am to open spaces and arid lands to boot
So even if you see no pack be sure I 've got me food.
In my hat 'pon my head a B- sits mighty fine
It’s the Bible ‘pon my head…my companion, my friend.
In my ears the wind doth blow whispers from above
Messages of love sent to me from the Great beyond.
The beat of my horse's hoofs clip clop in three fourth's time
Reminding me to take life one step at a time.
In my hand the horse’s reins a leather strap with links
Reminding me that gentle communication’s the key to every thing.
In my pocket a few meager coins jingle all the way
Reminding me that earthly riches last only for a day.
To the spurs upon my boots the prairie grass doth cling
Reminding me that I am one with every living thing.
Now I lay me down to sleep my head upon a stone
May God watch over me this cowboy far from home.
“The flower of youth,” that’s what Ma said,
the day we packed the wagon.
She tussled my hair and planted a kiss
on my cheek and tin cans to the tail gate draggin’
My bride, my Peg, she hopped on aboard
while her Ma, Nellie, stood by bawlin'.
Dad stood by the farm house door
and Ole Red stood aside him howlin'.
We left from Pennsylvania aimed for Oregon
I’m not sure we woulda gone if we’d new,
all the loss a comin’ afore the shores of Avalon,
land of milk and honey, where apple trees are strewn.
Peg-a-my-heart, fair she was, and our baby she was carrying,
we’d lose that chil’, I’d lose my Peg, before we hit Missouri .
I sold the wagon, and bought them a stone, markin' the place I’d laid them
and off I went on a cattle drive a broken man in a hurry.
A cowboys life was all I had, a horse and my whiskey
and every night afore I’d sleep I’d sing “Oh, Peg-o-my heart…I miss ye”
*this was what it was like to be a cowboy