Sheriffs Poems | Examples

Tandoori or Tangerine Tan shorts no4

Cohorts of suits distort

Court the last resort

Damnation of immigration

Onslaught in cahoots cavort


Pander to propaganda slander

Escort darker fraught faces

From other races caught

To starker places.. shunted

Hunted like a sort of sport 


History debunked

“Before” skunked & kerplunked

Lore of Yore junked


Fossil fuel full sumps

Well More is More

Trees flump become clumps 

Of gnarly snarly stumps


Petrol pumps pour

Sheriffs thumps any grumps

Tariffs Gazumps…prices soar

Ready for the final encore?

This is the Midwest

You cannot exist unless you have a gun
This is the Midwest
You might want to kill a deer
Or an enemy
Or an enemy’s kin
Or an annoying grouse

Get your gun
Let’s practice shooting
We can shoot out windows
Or doors
Or people’s cars
This is the Midwest, we will be forgiven

Everyone has a gun
We all wanted to be sheriffs back in the day
No one will worry or call us thugs
We will be “good old boys”
Petted and loved,
Admired for our viciousness
There is a squirrel
Kill that.

The Wizard of Oz, epilogue

Happy ending in the movie: Dorothy: Oh, but anyway, Toto, we're home. Home! And this is my room, and you're all here. And I'm not gonna leave here ever, ever again, because I love you all, and - oh, Auntie Em - there's no place like home!


Despite the happy ending 
Miss Gulch won't fade away 
like a rumble of thunder. 
She'll clutch the sheriffs order, 
Pester Em and Henry 
until Toto lies as still as sky 
after a cyclone, 
and Dorothy realizes 
Glinda was a very wicked witch.

Before John Ford

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

Infra Dig

INFRA DIG

The effect of time on sculpture is to patinate
Albeit that such artistic skill may be innate
The age of such treasures whether early or late
May for most, be quite difficult to calculate
Yet still makes focused minds concentrate
Despite empty criticisms that can aggravate
And so much academic fury will accumulate
But still identify a new theory to formulate
Perhaps items from an old German palatinate
Or commissioned by a Far Eastern potentate
When commonly using leeches to exsanguinate
And sheriffs given his orders to disseminate
All this as research findings to communicate
Even with some dispute about the actual date
Most would have their reputations to elevate
Yet shared archaeology claims they can’t separate

New Sheriff In Town

There is a new sheriff in town and he’s a Maine Coon of course.
We had tried a duck, a fish, a llama, a cobra, a spider and a horse.
We watched the Maine Coon strut up and down showing off his star.
He was spitting tobacco, and it landed way off, very far.

The Maine Coons make the best sheriffs in this high noon town.
They never put up with any shenanigans up, low or down.
We saw that this one looked as slick and as wise as the other one.
The sheriff who ended up dead from a mean outlaw’s gun.

There's No Place Like Home

Despite the happy ending
Miss Gulch won't fade away
like a rumble of thunder.
She'll clutch the sheriffs order,
Pester Em and Henry
until Toto lies as still as sky
after a cyclone,
and Dorothy realizes
Glinda was a very wicked witch.

Night of Smoke, Night of Fire

The noon skies were like midnight
The dogs were quiet 
No trucks drove by
No children shouted
There were no bird songs
There were no sounds
The lights were out
People sought refuge in homes— in cars
We watched in awe -- our strong bold firefighters 
The sheriffs who picked up pets while
They watched out for lawless men
Even while the fires grew
These heroes reminded us
Love and nobility live even while the skies burn
And the tree limbs singe
The only lights flickering that night
Were on the street's telephone poles
The only sounds so silent were
When doors opened then closed 
During the night of smoke, that night of fire

Bandits Wear Masks

Feels like only bandits wear masks 
Tellers shouldn't wear em for doing their tasks
In the old wild west
Sheriffs were the best 
We knew the rules we never had to ask

Strong Bonds

Strong Bonds

Muddy river, 
crystal clear, 
and sometimes green as grass.
Grains of sand, hot on the pan,
Gifts of pine?, smell all you can…!

Cowboys, Indians, artists
and rodeo, powwows.
Towns gone, 
now ghostly kept…

Mines, claim jumpers, 
stagecoaches and poker players, 
School teachers, 
and the right to vote?

Mountain men…
Too many people,
and broken treaties.
Ever paving the way
toward the future…
of a highway. 

Scoundrels and sheriffs, 
preachers and train trackers,
carpetbaggers, and mayors…
purveyors of law, yet without order.
 
History remembers…, 
Don’t let them forget. 

Pioneers, robbers, and slaves, 
built OUR country…
Heroes of a past, 
we need more today, 
than ever before.

Stand up men that put their life on the line.
Western hearts, that carried through time. 
Horse and saddle, bronc and buster, 
ride again into the sun!  
“In God We Trust”

The West

The West

A gun, a holster, bullets…
A glass of whiskey and 
a ten-gallon hat.
A horse, a saddle, a bridle…
and bags to hold it all. 

Good guys, bad guys, 
sheriffs, and hoods. 
Shoot outs, long rides,
and even skinning hides…
just for a living. 

Heroes and villains…
Fought caught and hanged…!
Eternally glorified,
all around the world.

Cowboys of fame…
never refrain.
You are who you are… 
Spaghetti to hard sand, 
a rare, uniquely, promised land.

Deserts and high country, 
Indians and explorers…
Men of great pride!
Your word, your bond, 
Your story,
will last long. 
Forever.

Robin and His Merry Men's Night Out

Robin treated his men down at the inn
To sexy wenches, food, mead and some gin
All got drunk on the mead
Then got high on the weed
Friar Tuck said “it’s not right it’s a sin.”

Robin’s outlaws were enjoying the night
And with the sheriffs men started a fight
The men ran for their lives
There was lots of high fives
The peasants cheered at this comical sight.




Written 31st January 2019
For limerick 3 contest
Sponsored by Joseph May.

New Kingdom Sign

Outside of the holy cubic building,
there was posted one sign four times 
on the tall, jasper walls:
No guns allowed!
It was written in Lamb’s blood
nailed to a cross
Then were heard
the rumbling hoof beat sound
of the Second Resurrection outlaw gang,
they were a-fast coming
And two angels of God
met them unarmed,
at the entrance of one of the twelve pearly gates
Those two cherub sheriffs
told the rebel gang this one thing:
In the brimstone city of God there is no killing,
so get out of Dodge — 
There are no guns allowed!

Lawless Manners

We need new sheriffs whom will uphold law properly 
taking these monkey's into account for their corrupt action
and addressing facts on these cowboy's 
that are held by public opinion as gangsters in uniform

Lawbreakers bring them down a peg or two and show them inside a cell 
this is how the taxpayers look at swindlers and thief's under state assets 
rather than shoot them down reward incorrectly in a big pay day 
with bonuses and pensions into the bargain
robbing our hard earned money blind drunken greed 

Even when they are totally shamed through their disgraced deeds caught out highlighted being honest it's a cowboy outfit force 
that needs to clean up it's act to gain respect 
for one this shows lack of respect where justice is not upheld 
in showing favour to these criminals whom there sits enough proof 
to throw the book at them correctly it should be dealt with  
pride is a wicked place to hide when secrets are out

Tornado

Sky’s black fingered-funnel, pierces 
the night; five people dead; brothers, 
uncles, little mite.

Store clerks, soldiers, sheriffs in pants,
passed on to Jesus, pastors’ rants.


Ripped from the earth, never the norm, 
houses gone, and cars in storm.

Roaring skies leave nought to shame; in
tornado’s deadly game.

Fire crews tear at deep-piled rubble, grey dust 
catching, morning’s stubble.

Now the chaos, disaster’s bell, broken gas 
and garbage smell, flattened ground where
houses were, shocked folk’s hearts, begin to stir.

Woman’s search for little dog, lies beneath the 
swampy bog.

Clothes and shoes hang from the trees, honey-splatter,
from the bees; little spared by Devil’s knell,  all is gone
to earthly hell.

We who bring the sheaves, to bread, brick and timber, 
pipes and lead, grant us peace from wrath above,
sooth us with your sun’s warm glove.

Save your scorn for those who hurt, not the town of 
love and work, let the people rise and rally, spare us 
from tornado alley!

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