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Best Poems Written by Danny Nunn

Below are the all-time best Danny Nunn poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Rio Grande River

Now this is quiet a famous little stream, many untold story
The muddy waters run slow, but don't let it fool you when it comes alive
Divides the United States and Mexico, but it is just a line
Old Cottonwood trees and quick sand, some cross it for glory
A history of out laws crossed it fleeing into Mexico, some did not survive
Maybe holding up a bank or stealing from a gold mine

Long yesterdays ago, Pancho Villa and his raiders came
They robbed and killed, then head back to their sanctuary 
Some though him to be a hero, to the poor he was a giver
He was an out law, that is where he got his fame
Even today there are those that will argue to the contrary
After he did his damage, he always crossed that river

Those muddy waters have seen a lot and still active
It has been a battle ground, many old cowboy songs sung
But like history, the old river changes too
Sometimes history is not very attractive
Those cottonwoods have seen many horse and cow thieves hung
Back in those days that what they had to do

The tides of the old river have changed. smugglers bring drugs to this side
No longer six shooters, it is machine guns now days
No more cowboys and Indians, now cocaine desperado thugs
Anything goes there, no such thing as pride
And the old river once again has had to change it's ways
It is all because of damn old drugs

Details | Danny Nunn Poem

The Snake Charmer

She has eyes like a magnet, that pulls one in
To a steel web where there is no escape
Then she licks her lips as she watches you
Tease and taunt you, tell you where you have been
And her evil smile, that is her type of rape
Telling you what will happen to you

A Black Widow Spider's heart and cold to the bone
A forked tongue of a snake and she will hiss
The Devil's child, you are her toy
The Queen of Evil sits on her throne
The kiss of death is her kiss
It is you she wants to destroy

You search for a way out, you beg to be free
Desperate, as if there is no hope
Crawling you are at your wit's end
She begs you to flee
To hang yourself, she gives you more rope
Then hugs you like a long lost friend

Freedom is something in a long lost dream
To the salt mines, ball and chain
Her poison, is your water to drink
All the time she is thinking of another evil scheme
So her pleasure will be your pain
Escape, is all you can think

For every tunnel has some light
After a fog lifts, there will be sunshine
Following every storm, it will be calmer
Sometimes it takes a lot of wrong to be right
And goodness will not die on the vine
Even the snake will bite the snake charmer

Details | Danny Nunn Poem

The Old Wooden Windmill (Cowboy Poetry)

Sat on top of High Lonesome Hill
It would scream, cry, lacked grease and oil
The lonely sound as the mountain wind would blow
Pumped ice cold water, thirsty cows would drink their fill
In the summer time, the Sun would boil
Still pumping even in the snow

Built out of oak timber
Many years ago, strong as the day was long
Storms come and go, still standing tall
Never missed a day of work since I can remember
And singing it's mournful song
For a bunch of thirsty cows, it was "Cattle Call"

The road there was an old dry creek bed
In the oak trees, the deer would hide
I would ride there on a buckskin bay
For hours of dreaming and resting my head
All that was yesterday

Windmill spin as you pump the cowboy's gold
With a piece of beef jerky, a no finer meal
If that could only happen again
Like the memory that only a cowboy can hold
That old spinning windmill wheel
It was Heaven without any sin

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The Desert Moon True Story

I live in Tucson, in a trailer court on the South side
All Mexican, except for me the old Gringo
I speak Spanish, can get along with most anyone
With all the Mexican border drugs, things can get wild
I am getting old and taking things slow
Was sort of a paradise in the Arizona Sun

The owner has lights, security cameras, claims to be drug free
Even claims to be a heavy duty born again
Not like us old folks and sinner on the South
After a couple of years of watching, seemed counterfeit to me
Said by him last weekend, "This land is blessed, sin cannot get in"
He is one of those feller, born with a silver spoon in his mouth

There has been a murder conspiracy after me for years
By the Old Witch and the Mexican Mafia that continues
Severel months back I could feel a change in the atmosphere
It was the old witch had moved in, with her bucket of fears
Trying to scare me and make me sing the blues
Make me think that my end was near

But then last weekend I saw it all, a crystal ball view
The owner lives in California, was in town
Fell on hard times and the park is empty
Went to the witch and money people, "Anything that is what I will do"
But soon the Devil will let him down
Only to add to his up coming misery

He sold his soul to the Devil, just for a little gain
And maybe when it all comes down, will end this conspiracy
A long story made short, to the court I will report
Set me free, for him will be eternal pain
For a man that sold his soul, God can give no mercy
There are no troops in his fort

Tried to take my last dime, leave me down and out
But I knew that God would not let me fail
I can over come this evil pair
With God, the Devil cannot run me out
You see if have sort of left a "Paper Trail"
"Joe you have sold your soul, you don't even have a prayer"

Details | Danny Nunn Poem

The Media

Reporting the news has changed so much from the past
I cannot even remember when I heard a good news story
It started out years ago slow, but has it ever grown
I wonder how long this type of thing will last?
They say that it sells, blood, guts and all the gory
Is that really the reason, if the truth was really known

Graved diggers they are, they are digging graves deep
Showing "dirty laundry", in hopes that it will never come clean
Reporting the rotten, no more than a scandal sheet
Make an innocent person guilty, so they will never sleep
Twisting word, so they do not sound mean
But like hungry dogs fighting over a piece of meat

Freedom of speech, a right that we should all hold dear
Freedom of the press, to inform the public, not to destroy
Journalism with integrity, the ways that it used to be
To make facts available, not every effort to smear
To read in the morning, sit and enjoy
While we still have this freedom and are still free

A right that should be used, not abused
Or something that government want you to say, because it is politically correct
Something that makes common sense, not cause mass hysteria
So that all can understand, not be confused
One day this right could be taken away, we cannot forget
This what I think that we need in our media

Details | Danny Nunn Poem

My Old Walking Stick

A old tree branch that had fallen to the ground
                 Polished it up, mended all the cracks, looking good as new
                                      Now we can both walk

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When You Close Your Eyes

When you think that I am never there
I am there all the time, but you cannot see me
Everyday I talk to you and it is in a prayer
I am just praying that you will hear me

I am not a ghost and I am not an angel
But in a prayer, is my special way of talking to you
One of these days, I will have a special story to tell you
But for right now, I guess a prayer will just have to do

For years you have heard my name, but never knew me
I am real, maybe one of these days you will see
But for now, a prayer will set us free
Maybe someday we can make up for all the time we missed

So when you close you eyes and hear an angel sing
That is when you know that I am praying for you
When you close your eyes, maybe you will see everything
Cause my prayers are all just for you

Details | Danny Nunn Poem

Mywalking Stick

There is a big Eucalyptus tree right behind where I live
The trunk is large, with the branches straight and long
When the Arizona Sun is blazing down, makes nice shade
Even when branches die, they still have more to give
At sunset, a breeze will blow through the leaves like a song
The day is over and dues are paid

One recent summer's eve, storm clouds boiled in the West
A quick sand storm, lighting and thunder everywhere
A hard driving rain all night, streets ran bank to bank
The old tree stood fast, passed the test
A dead twisted limb laid on the ground, like saying a prayer
For the state that it was in, had only God to thank

Out of bed at five, hot cup of coffee in my hand
Went outside to make an overall inspection
Was everything still standing, or had everything washed away?
The early morning air was fresh, rain had bathed the land
Looked up and down the street, then in a westerly direction
The old fallen branch, there it lay

It caught my eye, seemed to be the right size
From past work injuries, my knees would go out every now and then
The branch needed a friend and I needed a walking stick
Picked it up,it was around waist high, I knew I had a prize
My work was cut out, had to give a new skin
Some sand paper, couple coats of varnish would do the trick

Took off the old gray scale, down to yellow wood with brown grain
Patched the cracks, so it would not split, couple of wraps of bailing wire
By God, it was starting to show some character
We started to smile and I had a good cane
Like a miracle, saved from the fire
Now as one, we walk together

Details | Danny Nunn Poem

Doctor Hill's Bill True Story

In a little West Texas cow town years ago
There was an  old doctor by the name of Hill
Little man, mild mannered, cheerful until made mad
He doctored old cowboys and drunks when things got slow
His usual cure was a kick in the butt and a pill
He had some regular people that weren't to bad


Doctor Hill had some that lived far out of town
On ranches and God awful places Doc was carried
There was one family that lived on a ranch way far out
There name was Brown
An old mother and two daughters not married
The old mother complained to hurt everywhere about

She claimed to be bed ridden, could walk as good as you and me
She fell out of bed one night, the sister did not know what to do
So the called Dr. Hill at ten
So late at night the got in his car to go see
He had been there five times before, he knew what to do
Laying there on the floor, she had done it again

Doc told them to get a blanket and a pillow and put them on the floor
He made a pallet for her and ten he said
"Let's roll her over on to the mat
Put the pillow under her head , then headed for the door
His little round face was turning blood red
Then he said, "Now damn it fall off of that"

Details | Danny Nunn Poem

I Still Think About Her

Seems like just yesterday, but I know it is not
Pictures have been lost, just memories now
They will never go away
Hate to think what she has been taught
I know that we will make it some how
A night does not go by that I do not pray

She was a babe way back then
It has been over twenty years ago
The day that they took her away
Wondered if I would ever see her again
The years sure go by slow
My hands were tied, had no say

Battered and abused, is all that she ever knew
Lost, no matter how hard I fought
To so-called important people in control
That is what corruption will do
And that is a lot of what we have got
I know that God has her soul

Yes, I saw her picture the other day
A grown lady now, still a child to me
Her name is Jennifer
I talk to her when I pray
Hope she understand, this is the way that it had to be
And I still think about her