Long Rattlers Poems
Long Rattlers Poems. Below are the most popular long Rattlers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rattlers poems by poem length and keyword.
When summer fires can burn
a hundred miles of trees
and winter cold can lock
you into a deep freeze
What with all them rattlers
wolves and big grizzly bear
You might think it dang’rous
to ever come out here
If you're looking for air
to breathe that's crisp and clean
See clear to the bottom
of a cold running stream
Want to find where God spreads
his brush ‘cross every view
and painted a sky so
big he ran out of blue
If you're needing some room
to spread, this is the place
You’ll ride fifty miles and
not see another face
A cowboy can still ride
his hoss down the main street
and give a big howdy
to anyone he meets
People are willing to
give what help they can lend
So let me welcome you
to 'The Treasure State' friend
Cause here in Montana
you won’t meet a stranger
So there ain't no need to
worry about danger
From far and wide.
To see the
Big Island Rattlers
Verses
The Desert Snears
Alot of planning
Across sport negotiations
Stuff to say in conversation
Nothing's ever been like
This before.
From riding someone's coattails
To individual dominance
Secure the worm
and cast the rod
there really jumping tonight
Tune the band
Rent the hall
We call this one
a humdinger
Say, did you see the beautiful
Smiling face
She think she's pick that right one
You know that special one let's
Just wait and see
Bayshore special
And a Desert Delight
Time for talking
Is whining low
The hype men
Getting a taste for crow
Tell everybody
Like I know
It's getting down
Tonight!
From far and wide.
To see the
Big Island Rattlers
Verses
The Desert Snears
Alot of planning
Across sport negotiations
Stuff to say in conversation
Nothing's ever been like
This before.
From riding someone's coattails
To individual dominance
Secure the worm
and cast the rod
there really jumping tonight
Tune the band
Rent the hall
We call this one
a humdinger
Say, did you see the beautiful
Smiling face
She think she's pick that right one
You know that special one let's
Just wait and see
Bayshore special
And a Desert Delight
Time for talking
Is whining low
The hype men
Getting a taste for crow
Tell everybody
Like I know
It's getting down
Tonight!
From far and wide.
To see the
Big Island Rattlers
Verses
The Desert Snears
Alot of planning
Across sport negotiations
Stuff to say in conversation
Nothing's ever been like
This before.
From riding someone's coattails
To individual dominance
Secure the worm
and cast the rod
there really jumping tonight
Tune the band
Rent the hall
We call this one
a humdinger
Say, did you see the beautiful
Smiling face
She think she's pick that right one
You know that special one let's
Just wait and see
Bayshore special
And a Desert Delight
Time for talking
Is whining low
The hype men
Getting a taste for crow
Tell everybody
Like I know
It's getting down
Tonight!
sweet pungent
fermented hay
dark and warm
slithers of light spit
through the cracks of the
warped weathered wood
old pie tin lies in the dirt
in its corner
where the mean old bull snake
drank milk with the cats
and kept the rats and rattlers
at bay
there's a buzzing and a hissing
on the other side of this rickety door
inside this old abandoned barn
I decided to explore
I'm about to shove through
but before I do
I look down to see
an Arizona black coiled up
its cold eyes
drawing a bead
whoa there little fella
didn't see you
used to be
I'd blow your head off
tan your hide
and roll you up to toss
in a cigar box
with the others
now--I don't know why
you seem like
such a harmless guy
you didn't strike
well then won't I
and I like the light
reflected off your shiny scales
and the way you glide
so smoothly and methodically
over rough wood
nothing anyway
through that door
just old leather
bridals and reins
broken down boots
and rusty tools
outside
light blinds
squinting to see
corroded red tank
shot full of holes
every idiot with a gun
can't resist
putting in another one
and the dusty chaparral
stretches up to the cool pines
as far as this trail goes
I follow
just a
not quite
snake bit
Arizona boomer
kick'n around
couple of days after
that bloody November
moon
(I set my alarm to)
yeah
whatever it means
sometimes its better
just to keep moving
with the sweet
sun on your shoulder
no rush
whatever I'm looking for
it's gonna find me
even the snakes
and the bloody moon
Let’s face it
living here is a lottery of death.
Most countries have their natural perils
but if danger were a horse race
The U.S.A would beat all commers by a head and a neck.
Those early colonists
should have interrogated the natives,
recorded the dire jeopardy of everywhere,
but they were bold and daring and died in their hundreds.
The fauna alone is enough to make you hide under a stone.
Black bears, Brown bears, Grizzly bears, Kodiak bears,
Polar bears……it’s unbearable.
Then there’s the wolves, mountain lions, puma’s, panthers,
enough to make you climb a tall tree and stay there.
Not to mention, but I will,
the alligators, crocodiles, and sharks,
or the rattlers and water moccasins,
also the big or small biting bugs,
sneaky killers all.
O and those interesting, varied, diverse and ever changing climates;
earthquakes, Alaskan tsunami’s, the tornados
and hurricanes, Ice, dust, and snow storms,
Volcano’s, scorching desert death valleys, raging forest Fires.
The many land and rock slides
so many unsettling ways to drown in flash and surging floods.
America I kind of like you, but each day
I roll the dice
just to see if snake eyes foretells of the usual
trouble ahead.
Now we have rampant crime and monkey pox,
there’s always something to harm us
on the way to the hospital.
Placement perched will measure the life of them.
Air begged resistance as trace lacks its forms.
Mute heed legs of Black Widow Spider norms,
ghostly strands of rare resilience sense strum
for the secretive possessor. Kindred,
most blacks, and some browns share Rama's clocks on
their red or orange paunch that some do don.
Due to our size, strikes are rare, flee instead.
Venom: fifteen times stronger than rattlers.
Not all males are killed by their mates end of
breeding. Finding well-fed virgins, a suave
term tactic furthered being: home wreckers.
Destroy web that females put pheromones,
assures their breed a place among unknowns.
That be cold sun rose yonder, our heads be hot, I'd declare,
I'll get Whitey my critter, worked all night, best she nicker.
'Bout saddlin' her real tight, or I'll headlong out of sight,
I want movin' nice and fast, cause just--nice--ends up a mess.
Must keep thin's dry 'round Whitey ... traps, she'll stir if caught any,
though we burn the breeze git near, passed two hoops long's a holler,
the homestead bout five miles back should see the first trap I set.
Nope, trap's clean and good to go, next, ain't whistle earshot. Whoa!
Need to slow time -- like disarm, well, no sense singin' to 'em,
come on girl, traps a waitin', ain't no worth to Dallas spin!
Good girl, now just o'er that rise--Whoa! Rattler!--Where, is mascque-eyes?
I'm unshucked and up a tree! Hair in the butter, for me.
French leave, or hang fire--no wait--either fish or cut the bait?
Oh there! 'Neath the brush ahead. Steady girl--a rattler's head!
(BANG/Whinning neighs)
Where's my Arkansas toothpick? Then be trapped, you won't get nicked.
(Talking to the rattler)
Well, done checking all the traps, I knew it'd fill up two packs.
(Resting a bit before anything else)
Be back--stay drink, water's clean--up, I'd never drink downstream.
"Howdy," well, whaddya know? That is one among the willows.
(Passing rider nods and head on...)
All hands and the cook--don't need ... California collar--tree.
(Wanted rider drifts out of sight)
I'll start a fire real quick, then the rattler on the spit.
That was quick and good eatin', look like that sun 'bout settin',
Methinks the night out in town, whaddya think, how does that sound?
Toss belly wash on the fire, where's my comb and the mirror,
cowboys don't bathe, they dust off, come on it's late, let's head off.
You be good, hear, and wait right here, this stallion needs his mare.
That there'd square dance a bit more, must be rattlers on that floor,
My left-handed wife, sidekick. Lookin' for a dog to kick!
There's no call for that ... You mean ... two packs, tied up on Whitey.
Fire 'em up, boys, R O S I E ' S . R O A S T E D . R A T T L E R ' S time!
I make a list of A words; thinking an alliterative poem would do today.
A cobra falls from the sky and lands in my hair with a big “hooray!”
A talking snake; just my unique daily kind of luck, I think.
The cobra says “Hi, my name is Lady Godiva Pink!”
Well that is all well and good, but what can I do with it?
I am making a list of A words; so I throw a fit.
I want to get on with alliteration, and I have my poem in mind.
I am tired of getting side tracked by cobras and rattlers of every kind.
Why my hair? I ask the cobra. “Why choose me?”
I got thrown by a giant in the cloud. He just tossed me away.
I am madder than hops now; as mad as a young mother can be.
I guess I will have to write the poem I had in mind on another day.
Panning in frigid water for a nugget called freedom.
The seed of the dream sprouts in the mind.
Deserts are brimming with icy coyote eyes
The mountains, though lovely, grow higher.
Barely alive, the hopeful lies battered
Dust devil dreamers - roses tossed into the fire.
The worthwhile journey never has an ending.
Tough miles gather like sparrows on broken fences.
Cartels and sex barons thin out the flanks.
Hope waning-wailing-chalk hearts in the rain.
For the worthy, lady liberty patiently awaits.
Those with clean nails and fine fancy homes.
Shove barbed wire agendas down blue-collar throats.
Buzzards hover above, dreaming only of dead meat.
Anarchists and pretend patriots bloody the streets.
Front page nuggets whittled down to fine print.
Only rattlers and God know where dead dreamers lie.
The masses become immune to imminent death.
Dust devil dreamers and roses tossed into the fire.