Marshall Dillon in Gunsmoke
Clint Eastwood as Rowdy Yates in Rawhide
Paladin Have Gun will Travel
John Wayne in bunches of westerns
the pattern was easy....
The cowboys always win
Hero wears a light hat
Villain is stuck with black hat
Indians never win
TV in the 60’s gave me new terms
Dance hall girl, sage brush, wagon train
I reminisce about the wild west I know
"Niagra and the wise."
fresh waters of life
relief self impurities
to a fateful fall
"Do you hear what I hear?"
rawhide winds of war
birched last's stand amidst saviors
a tree faints away
"The void that Earth began."
mirages are dreams
of sand ~ prep A -- straight line to
... be -- and stay alive
"The Beaches of Warwick" NOT JK
Cher baby don't go
Miami sharks are biting
deBATE ~ still they go
"2024 sales higher than street drugs."
against popular
demand ~ Americans still
care of how they look
"The nature of ado."
it's a time for us
all the kids will visit me
~ the ado I need
A Cowboy And His Thoughts On Dodge City
In the razor whip and faster gun
the flaming sun, the fertile fields
the rose-felt day
I walked alone
along the barren street
beneath bramble shields
A heart that swore to the purest truth
the eager thrills of wayward youth
With stripped heart allayed
steps taken and no holds barred
through soggy marsh
and burnt out corn
the west stands its ground
from eastern ridge and western sky
my horse knows well the way
six-guns speak,
roulette wheel creaks
the cowboys force their way
O' please, be thee still
as men attempt to force their will
and looks like no rain today
we wait for dusk and night
death be the greater fright
the dead buried at Boot Hill.
Robert J. Lindley, Aug, 10th 1972
Note- One of the greatest themes in movies is the Western and the cowboy.
Rawhide, Wyatt Earp, Gunsmoke, Bonanza, and others all preached the moral theme of fair play and law and order. Think what theme movies teach today! Certainly not that, imho. RJL
Perhaps for dinner you might try
A steak and veggie plate
Or some chicken wrapped in nori,
Such a treat to masticate!
At some eateries, the menus
Are creative as food gets,
Which is really a surprise because
The customers are pets.
San Francisco’s restaurant “Dogue”
And Manhattan’s “Judy Z’s”
Offer rawhide bones and cupcakes,
All with canine tastes to please.
Though I understand that owners
Love their dogs, I must admit
Fancy dog meals in a restaurant
Just seems inappropriate.
This year the farmers are celebrating
the greatest full moon harvest
they ever had in the past hundred years
with a special field they sowed
to be reaped before the arrival of winter,
in the meantime, off in the distance
the church bell rings by way of a clapper
who strikes the bell with a farmer's hammer
signaling to the villagers it's time for work
they all line up in procession
with grit and determination
with weather beaten faces
turned into rawhide skin,
with shovels over their shoulders
they march to the beets and to the yams
to the fields loaded with rich phosphorus deposits
that washes down from the hills into streams
that irrigate the crops into super giant
beets and yams the size of watermelons
just bulging out of the rich soil,
the farmers came to dig and dig.
They worked fast and furiously
to beat the first frost digging reaping
and piling up the yams and the beets
into several mountain peaks of yellows and purple
Was the worst behind or before them?
They could imagine, but they never knew.
I never thought much of it back then, back there.
I was just a boy enjoying the weekly television show.
It was a show about a wagon train of Americans heading West.
They knew their past misfortunes, but were driven by their dreams.
At the beginning of every drive, invariably, there were seven words
I heard the leader say, "Head em up; move em out. Rawhide!"
071822PS
Let me speak of Thanksgivings Day 2021
It was incredibly easy, full of holiday fun
The children were excited, the turkey was hot.
We laughed ourselves silly over jokes no others got.
There were nine grandchildren, loving me with hugs.
A loony uncle went around, looking in corners for bugs.
He thinks the FBI is watching, and big brother too.
He only gets to come here once a year, a real coop.
We put aside our politics, and no one brought up beliefs.
Concentrated on pumpkin pie and cranberry a big relief.
Unified in a prayer, we put our contrary views aside.
Grandpa snuck in a nap in our large armchair made of rawhide.
We hugged each other good bye as if we’d never see them again.
I gave an extra big hug to my best friend, who is my identical twin.
You never know at our age what the coming days will yonder bring.
It was such a pleasant day, my heart felt good enough to sing.
O brother, they closed the brothel!
Beer and barmaid breath is closed.
Banter with corsets and silk stockings
withheld - the downy frown of ‘stache.
The itch of a cattle drive — the rawhide
chaffed and fettered,
all the while driven by unholy sex.
O brother, a frightful fight broke out
like measles planted from head to toe.
when you fantasized her soft skin,
her tongue lash —all those miles and miles -
the special one you call Maisy,
but boards like bandaids hammered
into place. No neon sign to contemplate.
You bring yourself back home, poor soul,
to your hot and bothered bride. There
you find the ride you’d forgotten.
You smile surprised. Only problem is
she makes you bathe and shave,
won’t allow you that chew or that beer.
O brother, they closed the brothel!
2/23/2021
Contest: They Closed the Brothel
Sponsor: Kai Neumann
Took leave from my job to live the cowgirl way
Didn’t think, I’ll be pitching bales of hay
Living the cowgirl way was a rough ride
Didn’t realize I had to skin rawhide
I was raised a country girl myself
But my skills had sat on a shelf
It was back breaking work to hard for me
I just had to turn in the key
I wasn’t a young girl anymore
So, I headed straight to the door
JANUARY 25, 2021
Cowboy rides horse cowboy boots in stirrups
Cowboy hat waving in hand, yeehaw it’s grand,
Cowgirl is on the range! Lasso by corral
Appaloosa horse hurrah! Glad he’s a cowhand.
Dreaming of equipage horse-drawn
Carriage with attendants at wedding,
Hoedown rootin’ good time with
Root beer float, now kiss bride in west heading.
Galloping palomino golden tan coat
Rapid pace fast on each stride,
Cream-colored mane and tail fly high
Fair beautiful daughter sure and firm in abide.
Stagecoach rolls on by, near town Apache Junction
Locomotive sporting cowcatcher grille,
Black Stallion feisty and alive; husband’s
Love abounding in firm steadiness still.
Texas longhorn cattle cowherd on the range
Equestrian horseback riders like cowhide,
Head ’um out, move ’um out, rawhide! Open land wander and graze
Riding habit outfit, western sunset love now wide.
Mortal man's stuck in the can
He can't get off the pot
He goes and goes, it never ends
Could be some kind of plot
A half-hour later he's still going
Poor posterior all rubbed raw
And now he's out of toilet paper
It must be Murphy's Law
He calls 911, says "Help me, please"
What's your emergency, bud
I'm held hostage; I've been seized
by an endless stream of crud
An ambulance, sir, will be there soon
But, operator, that's not the issue
I need at least a month's supply
of Charmin's softest tissue
Operator laughed so hard that she fell over
Wished him good luck, then she cried
If you don't get off that darn pot soon
Your end'll end up rawhide
Well, miracle of miracles, bless the Lord
The crud came to a screeching halt
And when our hero got off the pot
He smiled to himself, as he realized
~ The whole thing's this poet's fault
An old black and white movie
took me back to my childhood
when cowboys rode the range
Major Adams and Flint McCullough leading the Wagon Train,
and Hopalong's ten-gallon white hat
rode the brim of John Wayne's stagecoach in back;
with Roy and Dale saving every day
as Tonto and the Lone Ranger hi-ho silvered away;
Gil Favor and Rowdy Yates blazed the Rawhide trails
as Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Joe laid the Ponderosa tails;
The Mavericks never bet against The Rifleman and Gunsmoke truths
while Wyatt Earp, Matt Dillon, and Bat Masterson made the law fool-proof,
the Rebel and The Restless Gun kept horses ever on the run
and Cheyenne, Davy Crocket, and Daniel Boone
fought both Indians and Trappers without showdowns at noon
those western stars of early radio and television shows after school.
These were the stories of so many heroes, villains and more jewels
the cowboys and cowgirls, and their horses too
revived the west for the fifties youth,
a blast from the past
of the fading western stars.
A ghost began whispering inside the soul's echo
there one Trojan horse enters defeated
spiritually the battle ground stands firmly fixed
against those whom denounce the King
misery will follow with disastrous events
Where human rights are exploited through chaos
quarrelsome beggars deny the basic truth to explain
Backfiring liars have a burning desire to bring conflict
Unequally self ordained gods of little value without hope
they try to influence the battle results
ignoring this backward omen leading to terrible infighting
warfare has the mentality that's deeply incorporated this motivating force
where sorrow beats down by force the anger deeply within us
.
Now I shall go, to overtake that killer of a dear life
into one's conscious self
our mortal undying glory rises or falls
quick to the mark snaps the rawhide strap
I’ve come to rest my weary bones and eyes of sore
horses need a barn to sleep and travel no more
the carriage is dusty and leans and squeals
if I can only have a bed and a few hot meals.
I do not take for granted as I pay for my needs
I’ve ridden this way so long where ever it leads
my journey cannot stop for I still have a way to go
my worldly treasures I haul with carriage in tow.
Have defied other directions in life to avoid the wayside
kept many varmints away with a crack of my rawhide
free to roam, no place to call home, I am on my own
no letters to write, no thoughts to recite, no end in sight.
all roads may come to an end but I must plow through
to pave the way, enlightening others of what they must do,
to be gainful in life on must ride those long and dusty roads
which will lead to opportunities and lessen the loads.
we carry much on our back not just in the saddle
we may find ourselves on a raft without a paddle,
if we float we must have hope and find ways to cope
a new mode may await on a different road that you have not rode.
It was as if someone had turned on the light .
I must have been about ten years old when my Mother sent me to the shop.
She liked Jim Reeves and I went to pick up his 45, 'Take my hand precious lord'.
A month ago I heard that song and the care free days of the sixties flashed back into my mind.
Back then there were no computers, mobile phones or social media.
People were friendlier and there was more respect for others.
We watched black and white T.V with programmes like Doctor Who,The Saint,and Rawhide.
We went everywhere by bus and sometimes walked as we had no family car.
The sixties were for me the best years to live through for music and an easier way of life.
All it took was a song to take me back to that golden era but sadly now only a distant memory.
Written on 28th September 2018
For ten lines of what it was like back then
poetry contest sponsored by Silent One.
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