Long Cowboy westernold Poems
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Wally some call him Zip (fed em black duck) (crow actually) Kakadu song man of Gulf town
Karumba Australia
Stay alive in 55 and 56 said the roadside sign..
As the Ford Mercury whizzed by on local Brisbane time...
A flat head 8 jumped into a muffled roar...
And Bronco Don gave it its head full bloody bore..
Bill Brummell was a waiting Aunty Nell was coming by..
And of course she'd bring the Johnson's little grubs like Mark and I...
So we lurched and wobbled cross country to the coast...
And aunty Grace was awaiting for sure shed cooked a roast..
So I followed cousin Wally about the Cleveland farm..
And watched him eat a melon from the inside without harm
Cut a hole put his head in, call him melon head?..
Just like a giant white ant this I say god strike me dead?..
Down in the valley my love is so low...
Sang old Slim Whitman on the valve radio..
old Don bought an inter truck a droving we would go..
to the Moonie floods back more than 50 years or so...
then Zip some call him Walter, he got a grand idea...
went to shoot some wild duck with a threeoh and some beer.... .303cal
so he lined up a wood duck but a crow got in the way..
so he reefed and pulled the trigger, just tough duck is all he'd say...
yes these ducks had big black feathers when talking they said ark...
(not like them squeaky yank crows)
Wally plucked and filled the stew pot says its duck or just a lark..
Drunken ring barkers were hungry scoffed the lot in one quick feed...
And they were farting feathers till the crowing parts were freed...
Don Johnson...
OUR MATE WALLY...
Oh they call him Wally Brummell and some just say old Zip..
He wrote and sang about Kakadu on the radio a bit...
Hes seen the passing of the horses and the drovers all gone too...
The rain don't come cos the trees are gone from Brisbane to Barcoo....bad hey...
Old trees that had a life force, as strong as me or you...
Killed by the ring barkers axe and bulldozed burnt so blue..
But if the desert reclaims its own, if the hungry farmer knew ?...
Would he let a sapling live its life, from Brisbane to Barcoo?...nope...
Don Johnson..
http://www.scullywag.com/kokoda1942st...
Aubrey Mc Govern
by Don Johnson ........
Aubrey McGovern and the Deaf & the Deefe
lived down on Cubbie on damper and beef.
The damper was easy McGovern could cook
the beef it was shady Deaf & Deefe was a crook.
When the meat bag was empty and had to be filled,
the first neighbors beast just had to be killed.
It was a bush law that you don't kill your own,
when picking one out it was mostly a roan.
These cattle are softer and won't hurt your gums,
digestion is better and won't hurt your buns.
Whips could be made from their soft roan hides,
and last for years when properly applied.
You could make hobble straps out of green hide you know,
bell straps for the horses,…(green hide uncured leather off a bullock)
but twisting hide ropes was ever so slow.(hobble pegs 4 hobble strap)
They would last for years if you kept them well oiled,
and kept under cover so they wouldn't be spoiled.
With head ropes and leg ropes and a Bronco horse,
the branding was done on the old water course( Cubbie stn)
McGovern was evil when on the grog,
Swore until his death he'd met the Devil agog.
He met him front on with a pot full of spuds,
he threw it all over him and scalded his duds.
Yes the Devil took off McGovern did say,
and he didn't come back for many a day.
The tools of the Bushman are simple and few.
So he hit the old devil with a bucket of stew.
Sometimes when sober and a few friends around,
They'd query him about the Devil,
he declared the story was sound.
by D H Johnson
This eating of the neighbors cattle or sheep was
traditional, and IS accepted as the done thing.
in south west Queensland. http://www.scullywag.com/kokoda1942stoush
In El Paso town is where "The Head Witch" make her nest
She is smart, clever mean, evil to the heart
her tentacles to grab her prey, reach far and wide
Been at war with this old heifer for 25 years, she claims to be the best
And she can take one for a wild ride
Like a tornado going through a town, tears it all apart
El Paso is the hot spot on the Mexican border drugs
Has been for many years, where the witch will be at
Everything that she does is a evil conspiracy
Works hand in hand with the Mexican Mafia and all of their thugs
When it comes to evil's general, she wears that hat
But like "The Wizard Of Oz", behind the curtain where you cannot see
Several years ago, she had one of her conspiracy after me
Acted like I had gone and peed in her cornflakes
I guess I did a little and crossed her path
I thought that I would send her something to settle her furry
So I decided that was enough,put in the brakes
She has been on cocaine for 40 years, full of mad wrath
So I sent her a Bible, in plain brown wrapping paper
Thought that Bible would take her voodoo away
Now if that did not get the old hussy 's under britches in a wad
Her little group, killed my best friend, my mother and has my daughter
But God will get her one day, so that is okay
Scared her so bad, in open court testified she called the FBI bomb squad
A witch with no voodoo is no good when it comes to Black magic
Made the wart on her old nose glow in the dark
She vowed to get me, in any way
But she would love it better if it was tragic
God is stalking her, reckon he will hit his mark
The moral to this story..She will pay in her Judgment Day
Form:
An old cowboy went in for his annual medical examination
He was polite, plain spoken, sometimes he would growl
Did not like doctor, hospitals, pretty nurses were alright
He tried to be nice, was not looking for a confrontation
All the doctors that knew him, expected something foul
Most of the time they were right
The doctor he had that day, was just the opposite
Did not have time for nonsense and someone with an attitude
Salty, with answers in sort of the same way
"Doc, I came in here today to see if I am going to kick the bucket"
The doctor grizzled, "Do you always have to be so crude"
"Well now, it all depends on what you have to say"
"No need in checking my vitals, I am still breathing"
"Just sit down and shut up"
"My old ticker is ticking, can't afford any cholesterol"
"Well according to these chart, don't stop praying"
"Done run out of Poly Grip, my old teeth are in a cup"
"Now please , look at the eye chart on the wall"
The old cowboy covered one eye, "Well By God, I can still see the Big E"
"Well that is good, utterly amazing"
"Kind of worried about my blood pressure, might be up a point or two"
"You making all those funny faces, what do you see"
"Getting kind of quiet, what are you calculating"
"Are you fixing to tell me I am about through"
Then the doctor said, "Well I have got good news and bad news"
"The bad news is not all that bad, the good news is not all that great""
"But just wanted to make it all clear"
"Some you win and some you lose"
"But, I don't think that you will have to sit around and wait"
"If you are still alive, come back and see me next year"
Form:
A properly equipped cowpoke is bound to impress the boss.
He'll need a mount of course and a silver-studded saddle fer his hoss.
He'll need some chaps to protect his jeans frum them pesky burrs,
And his outfit wouldn't be complete without a fancy pair of spurs!
A wide-brimmed Stetson is needed fer shelter frum the searin' sun.
It's also dandy fer feedin' oats to his hoss when their work is done.
He'll need a pair of Tony Lama boots with high heels and pointy toes,
And a bandana to keep the dust and bugs from a-pluggin' up his nose!
When on night patrol and the restless herd is spooked by lightnin' bright,
A harmonica is a handy gadget to soothe the herd frum takin' flight.
A coiled riata he'll need to corral them stampedin' wild cows.
He'll wear a pair of 44s to shoot rattlesnakes (if'n the boss allows)!
He'll need a couple of blankets fer sleepin' 'neath the canopy of stars,
And bags of Bull Durham fer roll-yer-owns and maybe a few cigars.
He'll need a heap of patience when gallopin' through the chaparral,
Roundin' up them frenzied dogies fer brandin' in the old corral!
He'll be a-chasin' cattle and a-fixin' fences thro' rain, sleet and snow.
He wonders sometimes why he cowboys - it sure ain't fer the dough!
He'll need lots of fortitude to abide "Cooky's" taters, bacon and beans,
But he'll keep at it 'til he's old and gray, 'cause cowboyin' is in his genes!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Placed No. 10 in Giddy up! Little Dogies! Contest May 2010
There is an old ranch outside of El Paso in New Mexico
No windmills, not a drop of water, sits on the Mexican border
No horses or cattle, not a cowboy does it employ
Used to be a working cattle ranch, but that was long ago
Now a lot of outlaw, no law and order
Now it is just the Devil's toy
The old ranch house, the window are painted black
All run down the fences of barb wire
Bones of ghost cattle lay in the sand, from cattle mutilations
Used in ceremonies for the Devil's attack
The witches dance and chant around a bon fire
Human sacrifices are taken as donations
Cowboy hat, boots and spurs, are gone by the way
No round up or rawhide on this outfit
In the tall mesquite dunes, a "sweat lodge" is where they worship
always carry on by night, never during the day
Where "The Head Witch reigns, don't think that she will ever quit
Booby traps galore, so you had better not slip
A multi million dollar cocaine shipping factory
Hidden off in the brush.under lock and key
Shipped by railroad, by air and Interstate Ten
A Helluva a tale and quite a story
Where "muling drugs" got it's name, when brought in by donkey
Don't get caught out there, you might not get back
Now for the scary part, if the other was not bad enough
When you think our Southern border is safe, well think again?
They are protected by the police and the United States Border Patrol
Telling us they are fighting drugs and it is tough
And the war on drug, they are going to win
How can they when the Devil has their soul
Form:
It was just a "Front", that most were supposed to see
Not a stud on the place, just "mystery donkeys"
Some days they were there, then just up and disappear
Maybe this is the reason this happened to me?
But it all had to do with the "magic donkeys"
For a long time it was a secret, then it got real clear
For several days the burros would have nothing to eat
Then Sawford had pack saddles, they all got one
About sundown the donkeys were driven to the border
To a group of Mexican drug smugglers they were to meet
Pack saddles loaded with silver ingots and pot for the next sun
It was a shipment made to order
At the barn, Sawford had the troughs loaded with waiting hay
At the border the drug smugglers would turn the burros loose
Like "homing pigeons" the donkeys came at a lope
Told the law, "Well them old donkeys have gone astray"
It worked until they got his neck in a noose
And Sawford fan out of rope
The silver was melted down, Sawford had a coin stamping machine
Making silver dollars as fast as he could
And the law never figured how the burros got there
Sawford swore up and down, "Dangest thing that I have ever seen"
"Why those bugger must have winged it here on a prayer"
He went to the pen and it did him no good
All ranches have a tale to tell, so does the old 5Y
But this one never will die, and it lives to this day
And that is a shame
But this is why?
The 5Y turned out this way
And where the term, "muling drugs' got it's name
Form:
(Based on a true Story)
Foggy Bottom = Washington D. C.
Several years ago out in Wyomig country
The ranchers were having nightmare, coyotes killing their sheep
They did not eradicate them, just get some control
For centuries they have used the steel jawed trap, that was the controversy
They were losing money and not getting any sleep
The Devil's dog was getting their soul
The Defenders of Wild Critters and the government boys were all upset
Thought that the rancher did net know a thing, but they did not know a cow from a bull
Had to call in the high muckity mucks from Foggy Bottom, then it got deep
Crying, "These old dumb cowboys will never be Politically correct
But they did not understand the high price of wool
After hours of useless thought "We can save your sheep"
Had a town meeting to sell the ranchers the plan
"We will put collars with radios, give them birth control
"So we can locate them and preserve this wonderful habitat
"We have spent hours and millions of dollars on this plan"
An old rancher stood up and shook his head under his cowboy hat
"Sir, I don't think you are missing the point here tonight"
"We don't need radios to locate them, they are right here"
"And that birth control you can keep"
"But this is the thing in our plight"
'So listen up real close, I want to make it clear"
"We are not worried about the coyotes screwing our woolies, they are eating our sheep"
Form:
The brilliant sun 'wakens me and heralds another glorious dawn!
I rub the sleep from my eyes, stretch my bones and stifle a yawn!
The diamond-filled sky was my roof, the soft grass was my bed.
The dew was my blanket - my saddle, the pillow for my head!
My dog Duke races about and faithful Wild Lightnin' grazes nearby.
I'm suddenly transfixed watchin' a magnificent eagle transit the sky!
I've had my bacon, now with a cup o' joe, I savor His Creation!
Each day of my vagabond bourne is filled with so much elation!
I sit on a log and watch rainbow trout leap from the lake.
They put on a dazzlin' acrobatic show just for my sake!
White tail deer and antelope graze in the vale 'cross the way.
With such beauty and serenity, 'tis hard to keep emotions at bay!
I fill my tin cup again and watch the embers of my fire ease.
I ain't "saddled" with schedules - I have only myself to please!
So I reckon I'll tarry a spell and gaze on the mountains o'er yonder,
Relax, scratch old Duke's ears while we both muse and ponder.
Old Duke nuzzles my face and swishes his tail to and fro.
It's time to saddle up - I sense Wild Lightnin' is also anxious to go.
I anticipate bein' 'wakened by Old Sol early each morn,
So Wild Lightnin', Duke and I can continue our vagabond bourne!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
It's brandin' time once't agin in the corral at Triple "T".
The dogies have been cut from the herd after a frantic spree!
Cowboys sweated and cussed in suns reachin' a hun'ert degrees,
As they flushed 'em out of arroyos and groves of salt pine trees!
It will be a frenzied week or so on the Triple "T" spread.
Even seasoned hands anticipate it with consternation and dread!
A feller could bust some bones gittin' them wild dogies lassoed,
Wrestlin' them brutes to the ground a-tryin' to get 'em throwed!
In his reliable old cuttin' hoss the cowpoke has put his trust,
To help bring them wily critters down, a-sprawlin' in the dust!
After much bawlin' and kickin', the calf is at last subdued,
And is seared with the Triple "T" brand, forever to be tatooed!
The dusty old corral rings with raucous hollers and hoots,
As a cowboy gets kicked and goes sailin' head over boots!
His calloused hands and nose leave deep furrows in the earth.
He gets up shakin' his head and a-cussin' fer all he's worth!
Brandin' season's over, now he can return to fixin' fences,
Herdin' cattle and savorin' Colorady's mountains and expanses.
Ain't no gittin' 'round it, brandin' comes with a cowpokes career.
He'll be back in the corral a-ropin' and a-cussin' agin next year!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (©All Rights Reserved)