Welcome To The Bullpen Cowboy Poetry Section
The Bullpen is the arena where amature western authors can submit Western Short Stories and Cowboy Poetry, and have the opportunity to receive feedback from you, the readers.
This is the poetry section of the Bullpen.
For the most part, these authors are greenhorns and this is a forum to help them improve their craft. Feedback is very important to the continued growth of any writer so please give them the courtesy of CONSTRUCTIVE criticism and also let them know when they’ve done well. Please keep in mind this is a family oriented website and these authors may not yet be the professionals they hope to become. Your feedback should reflect that. But then again… you can be constructive and still be tough;
after all, this is the BULLPEN!
Talk of the Town
Talk of the Town
By Sergio Schaefer
This snow's been fallin' all day
and this is the coldest yet.
This outfit's had a rough time
gettin' 'em set.
A drive's comin' and time's short.
All this herd needs is a trail brand.
Last month we were in Texas,
riding in the sand.
My partner almost crippled his horse,
ropin' a heifer down,
and came close to goin' with it,
when we all went to town.
The Old Hands
The Old Hands
Floyd Henderson
They stare without seeing from old rheumy eyes
Past decades to the days of their young glories
That all these young smart alecks call lies
And snort with laughter at all of their stories
Bandit Wages
Bandit Wages
Floyd Henderson
He prowls the border this bandit bold
Robbin' honest folk of hard-won gold
Or rustlin' steers along the border
Sunsets
Sunsets
Floyd Henderson
He never saw the flame split night's black
Nor felt the bullet as it entered his back
Only sensing the stars wheeling overhead
As he fell to the dust with arms outspread
And listened to the hunter finish his stalk
Final Chores
Final Chores
Floyd Henderson
Crisp and bright breaks the mornin'
Out here on these panhandle plains
With dark norther clouds just formin'
And winds whistlin' around the wains
Forecastin' a bitter winter season
Punchers
Punchers
Floyd Henderson
Wearing fatigue like their shrouds
But stiffly sitting saddles proud
Endlessly riding with dust and heat
That pounds on heads, trying to beat
These men of steely gaze and iron wills
The Pony Rider
The Pony Rider
A.R. Matlock
A Tribute to the Pony Express Rider:
The word went out in 1860, ‘looking for wiry boys and men
Who can dust a bronco and ride him until we say, when!’
Cowboy Junkies
Cowboy Junkies
Floyd Henderson
Walkin' the prairie with boots all torn
Since the rope broke off his saddle horn
And let that steer jerk him through air
To land face down, cussin' something rare.
The waddie swears to himself never again
Will he let an ornery critter post a win
From trusting too much in worn out gear
That has needed renewal for many a year
Cowgirl's Prayer
Cowgirl's Prayer
Carol Ann Lyde
Once upon the land down South
'neath the Lone Star sky,
a lonely cowgirl rides
as she hangs her head to cry.
She removes her hat in honor
in her native untamed land,
looking over the canyon
a yellow rose held tightly in her hand.
As the cowgirl peered toward heaven,
"Howdy Lord", she began to pray,
"I've been ponderin' for all the answers,
and wondered, well, there's somethin' I gotta say".
Blood on the Green Prairie Grass
Blood on the Green Prairie Grass
C. J. Edwards
The warning about galloping the horses
Blew fresh in my mind as I leaned
Forward on the saddle
Wind roared in my ears
The animal’s mane whipped my face
The other riders spread out to either side
I whooped and plunged ahead
Two of the mares ran with fillies
The young horses shook their heads
Hooves paused in mid air and whinnied
Hooves thundered around a curve
I had forgotten
the barbed wire ahead
