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I aint no *****. I aint no tinker; like a tinker would think. Im just an old cow poke with no leather to sink my teeth. Been riding for days aint came across the first drop to drink.

Sure is nice of you mam to let me in by the smell of my stink.

You see; I lost my cattle about a few miles back. We got seperated by a sand storm. Boy this coffee is about as thick a pinewood sap. Mam, please dont take offense; I sure do appreciate the gesture. I suppose a cool glass a water might do the trick.

Now as I was saying, I was on my way up from Wyoming to drive a herd for a bargain. Well I guess I would say I got started early this morning.

I got me a ranch out in Laramie. Well actually a buddy of mine does. We started up and then it began storming. I haven’t seen him since. Mam could you do me a favor if he does. If he shows up; could you tell him I have gone to gather up them horses.

Could you ask if he could stick around, what matters is that we’re safe and that’s important. We can regroup in a couple of hours. Head on back on up the trek, make up for lost time and try to save our appointment. If that ain’t no burden to you misses?

-RSC
I have a soft spot for westerns.This is a love letter to a classic western I used to enjoy
“Laramie”
Ashley Moor Feb 2021
Nothing is sweeter
than waking
to the silence
of snow
of the movements
your chest makes
before the closed-eye smile
stirs
the ancient Woman in me.
I crawl into your arms
like stepping
into the sunshine abyss
of my childhood
like conjuring
the music
of my sister’s laugh
like conjuring
the dead.
Some mornings
I wake
so full of love
that it takes all of my
strength
to keep my chest
from hallowing
my ribs from cracking.
At 6 a.m.
on a
snow-covered lawn
the revelation
of love
accompanies a cigarette
and cup of
watered-down coffee.
All of the words
you whisper
my porch cowboy
are stuck to me
on a morning
so unaware
of its own
beauty.
Elizabeth Kelly Nov 2020
He fancies himself a cowboy
In line at the corner store
Concealed carry snug on his hip
(He secretly hopes someone gives him some lip)
The cashier hands him his change without meeting his gaze
He’s surprised and aroused.
She knows her place.

Selling your soul’s not a deal with the devil
Selling your soul is a deal with yourself
Make the choice over and over
To shake your own hand
And pretend that it’s somebody else

He fancies himself a nonconformist.
A free thinker
The sheep will all do what they’re told
And he’ll be ****** before he goes peacefully to slaughter.
It was easy, he figured it out
Demanding proof is just an excuse to hide behind doubt
A warrior,
he wields the flaming sword of truth
His wife asks a question; he breaks her front tooth.

Selling your soul’s not a deal with the devil
Selling your soul is a deal with yourself
Make the choice over and over
To shake your own hand
And pretend that it’s somebody else

Somewhere a fat man is checking the math as he’s being served lunch
Picking through numbers, looking for nibbles
He dribbles drool onto his chin,
as he dials his guy in The Caymans
His stomach is rumbling, it’s never enough!
To deepen ones pockets, one first must make cuts.

The determinant cause for the silver mine fire
Will read “Accident: faulty electrical wire; Company denies liability
per signed agreement at hire.”
And the cowboy free thinker won’t laugh at the joke,
he’ll just choke
There will be no survivors

But today, The Cowboy nurses his hate,
while Somewhere a fat man is writing the fate of the cowboy in pen,
pleased to be Great Again.

Selling your soul’s not a deal with the devil
Selling your soul is a deal with yourself
Make the choice over and over
To shake your own hand
And pretend that it’s somebody else
Bhill Oct 2020
the cowboy slowly enters town riding high on his horse
the town had no name, he just knew he would find what he was after
townsfolk seemed to stop in time and stare at his rugged face
the desert had stolen his youth and good looks
he was a renegade cowboy looking for what seemed, a friendly face
not sure this town had such a person
this town was not real
this town was a ghost
these folks were in the wind waiting for departure into the next
he had found Middletown
was he real, was his horse real, where is he
he thought he knew

Brian Hill - 2020 # 281
TIZZOP Jun 2020
it's cold in here
red frost, cowboys are shivering
worn-out guys

smoky faces
loners
dancing on puddles

slippery floor of memories
posters of dead ghosts on the walls
mirrors don't reflect the cowboys

their shadows are transparent
the piano man takes them on a journey
24/7
Today is a good day.
Poetic T May 2020
Walking like a cowboy,
         that was wetter than dry...

                                     Humiliation...
i looked out at the weather
the clouds were moving fast
Winter was incoming
The season would not last

With fences needing mending
And cattle still to ship
Winter would be early
I could feel it in my hip

Every morning I would  get up
Stagger down to get a brew
The pain was getting worse now
I'd lost a step or two

My daughter told me "Daddy"
"You need to see to that"
I'd grumble at her, smile
Then take my coffee and my hat

I'd go outside and wait some
Look out north for there I'd see
The last great wild pony
He's a stubborn one like me

I've chased him round these hill for years
Caught him once or twice
But, no one here could break him
No matter how we rolled the dice

He runs a herd of forty
I just let them go their way
I see them in the hills sometimes
And that's where I'll let them stay

There's other wild horses
Running round here that we chase
But, his...we let them venture
We let all forty have their space

Time has slowed me up some
It's got to him, I know as well
His is just from aging
Mine is where I fell

I was chasing wolves up on the ridge
They'd been running round the ranch
My horse slipped up and threw me
I landed sideways on a branch

I heard the pop and felt the pain
A searing burn through me
Beside me, lying helpless
My horse looked up at me

I did just what I had to
One swift shot between the eyes
Now, there I was out lying
A broken hip and ****** thighs

I'm not sure how when it happened
By rights I should have died
But, somehow, I can't tell you
That lone pony saved my hide

He saw me lying helpless
Knew the wolves were there as well
He took off once he saw me
Left his herd right where I fell

They walked in a tight circle
Kept me safe right where I lay
He took off to get assistance
His herd, knew they should stay

Like I said, I don't remember
How long I was lying in that space
But, I remember waking up and
I saw with him, a friendly face

They told me he wreaked havoc
Broke the fence down at my place
Kicked a fuss enough up
Then led my ranch hands on a chase

They chased him till they had him
This pony wild and free
He brought them to his herd of horse
He brought them out to come save me

He kicked the ground and whinnied
Looked at me, to say ok
The men loaded me up with them
I'd live to see another day

Fifteen years have passed since
I see him up there on the hills
While I sit outside just watching
The pain, it's helped some by my pills

A thousand wild horses
Well, for certain...forty one
Couldn't drag me to a doctor
Not while I can see the sun

He's a stubborn one that pony
Comes around I think to show
He ain't gonna go before me
And, I think he's right you know

My daughter keeps on trying
And I love to hear her try
But all the wild horses
Wouldn't even let me die

He's a part of me I guess now
Just like I'm of him of course
This stubborn limping cowboy
And that stubborn wild horse
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