Cowboy Poetry
Like old stories recited around a country campfire, ranch hands have recited cowboy
poetry for many of the same reasons. It's a Western art form. I hope you enjoy it.
A Paint Cain't
By James J. Griffin
I was the new man at the Circle Bar J
Hired for roundup, I’d arrived that same day
Riding my own horse, my faithful paint Jed
An old time cowhand eyed him and said,
“Paints cain’t.”
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If There Ever Was A Pair
By Tom Sheehan
Even though the cowboy’s free,
his horse will chart his destiny,
for if there ever was a pair,
it’s the cowboy on his mare,
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The Yondering Man
A Tribute to Louis L'Amour
By William Guthrie
The Yondering Man ? the Yondering Man ?
look down the road,
here comes the Yondering Man ?
give him a place in front of the old camp fire ?
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God Made the Cowboy
By William Guthrie
The boots may be dusty
and the heels all run down,
but that's just 'cause
he ain't had time to run into town.
His hat's all grimey from sweat
but he'll tell you it's the
best one he's had yet.
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"1985"
By Rocky Georg Rutherford
I've just hit town not a penny in my jeans,
Been living on candy bars, coffee, and beans.
I been out on the road better part of a year
And what I been doin' just ain't no longer clear.
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The Preacher and the Kid
By William Guthrie
Some of us thought we'd live forever
and some of us had a little more sense,
but we all went to Meetin' on Sundays
for the girlin' and surely not for
too much repentance.
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A Westerner
By William Guthrie
A Westerner finds great pleasure
in most everything they see;
the deserts and the mountains,
both in perfect harmony.
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A Rustlers Secret
By Delia J. Fry
They met at the town social
The rustler and the lady
She was too shy to dance
So they just sat and talked
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The Dying Moon
By Rocky Georg Rutherford
Once upon a time a bunch of old cowboys would have their say
At a greasy spoon ouside Lubbock called the Dying Moon Cafe.
Calloused, gallused, withered, water-eyed in ass-gone jeans,
Each told a story of rodeo glory, big bucks, and busted dreams.
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The Carolina Cowboy
By Rocky Georg Rutherford
When I hear the roar of the rodeo
And I see the fans rooting for me
I pause to thank those
Who sacrifice to keep America free.
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THE LESSON
By Mike Gombas Sr.
About the flickering fire light
Children sat with upturned faces
Their eyes were aglow with wondrous delight
As the old shaman told stories of faraway places
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The Last Dream
By Delia J Fry
Tumbleweeds roll past boot prints in the dirt
Footprints, staggering, searching for water
They are brushed and fly away like dust
The only evidence of the runaway squatter....
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An Incident At The L. C. Saloon
By Mike Gombas Sr.
A persistent driving downpour
Transformed into a quagmire the roads and byways
Getting about was a soggy, unpleasant chore
For ranch hands looking for strays
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A Line in the Sand
By Brad Fitzpatrick
Old Jasp and I rode into town
Behind a herd stretched half a mile
To sell them for the ranch boss
And we’d been on the trail a while
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Cowboy Retirement
Harold Roy Miller
The aging cowboy watched the cattle graze
amidst the wildflowers all ablaze
and tried to come to grips with all his doubts and fears.
He sat back in the saddle and closed his eyes and pondered
and in his mind, he thoughtfully wondered
why he’d stayed a cow puncher for so many long years.
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Rusted Spurs
By John Darling
My campfire's flames reach for the sky while
Carving out the safe haven in the desert night
That keeps the wolves from gnawing on my ancient bones.
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BACON AND BEANS
By Lee Pierce
IT’S A HUNDRED AND TEN IN THE SHADE AGAIN
AND I’M OUT ROUNDIN’ UP STRAYS
THE SUN’S BEATIN’ DOWN WITH THE DEVIL’S OWN FROWN
ANOTHER HARDWORKIN’ COWBOYIN’ DAY
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"Southwestern Sky"
By Delia J. Fry
Colors of the Southwest sunset
Peeking through the shadows
A beautiful pastel palette
As the Southwest wind blows
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OUT ON THE PRAIRIE
by S.E. Hutchison
We buried him out on the prairie
He's sang his final song
But we carried his memory with us
As we drove that herd along
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Only In A Cowboy's World
By S. E. Hutchison
Where do you find the summer so hot
It will melt your very soul?
Where are the winters so blasted cold
They take a terrible toll?
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Shorty and Stubb Go to the City
by Dave P. Fisher
Now, Shorty and Stubb were a couple of real top notch buckaroos,
They’d cut their teeth on latigo leather and had long since paid their
dues.
Them boys never missed with a catch rope and could ride anything with
hair,
Be it outlaw broncs, brahmer bulls, or a dog gone ol’ grizzly bear.
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The Eulogy
By Dallas McCord
Three cowboys died in a wild stampede.
It was one hell of a wreck.
Poor 'ol Charlie was stomped to death,
Slim and Buster broke their necks.
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There Once Was A Cowboy
by C J Friend
There once was a cowboy in old San Antone,
His hoss so skinny you could see every bone.
Yet, faster'n lightnin' that hoss could run
He'd be in Waco by the settin' of the sun.
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Cowboy Philosopher
By Norm Rourke
“Ever wonder why the nights are so clear
out here on the open plains?”
He asked this question with his face upturned,
While I fiddled with my reins.
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Bad Road
By Terry Burns
Got to do 40 miles of real bad road
driving this wagon and toting this load
and when I get through I got me a windmill to fix.
Then I gotta lotta fence to mend
and gotta build a pen for the hens
and gotta fill the firebox with a big armload of sticks.
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Bob Wire
By Terry Burns
I've got me a hold on this old barb wire
and it puts me in a mood to retire
every time I have to come and fix this fence.
I use all the words the preacher don't know
and yes I cuss this so and so
in a manner that just ain't common among gents.
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The Kid
By Dave P. Fisher
She put him on the bus in Vegas, one way bound for her brother Ed,
To his ranch up north and out of the city, before he wound up dead.
He was bad at sixteen, a liar and fighter; he beat all she ever saw,
But it was because there was no man to guide him, the boy he had no pa.
She told her brother to work him hard, and teach him to be a man,
For she had given up and told him, “Do with him what you can.”
Now, Ed was a busy man, with no time to wet nurse a spoiled brat,
So he picked out one of his best men and partnered the kid with Pat.
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Luther's Chicken
By Dave P. Fisher
Luther and the boys were loafin’ on the porch of Harvey’s feed and seed,
Discussin’ the weather and politics, and bragging on their every deed.
Luther and Evert was in a checker game when old Evert made a face,
And scolded the boys for lyin’ and braggin’, and called it a plum disgrace.”
Now, old Evert could tell some mighty tall tales and flat out windies to boot,
But he’d get mad when others told ‘em, so the boys liked to irritate the old coot.
He scowled at a red checker, “I hate it when you boys do that, oh it really gripes,”
Then calm as you please Luther says, “I once had a chicken what played the bagpipes.”
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What Yer Worth
By Harold Roy Miller
My best friend Slim is a shiftless cowboy who would rather count sheep than cows.
When dodging a task, he’ll use every ploy to work no more than the law allows.
One Day we were hanging out at the local feed storeout of a job with no real plans,
when we heard the owner of the C Bar 4 needed a couple of full-time hands.
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SIMPLE PLEASURES
By Stephen Gese'
A good steak hangin on the spit
fried tatters in a pan
brown dutch oven biscuits
cold peaches from a can
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