Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Louise Jul 15
I should've known from the first ride,
that I would be falling fast.
I should've felt it from my first fall,
that your show must go on.
I should've known from the first rodeo,
that should've been the last.
I should've felt it from my first trot,
that I'm better off riding alone.

I should've known you couldn't choke the horn,
but you were all but a yellow-belly.
I should've watched how you 'let her rip',
yet a horse is all of my riches.
I should've believed you don't want no cahoot,
but I rode for you 'til dawn while hungry.
I should've watched you ride to the sunrise,
yet I am left chasing sunsets.

But I am still the greatest,
with or without a lily liver cahoot.
I am the best, from east to west,
a taste from my lips would prove it's true.
I am the lone star that shines the brightest,
with or without your hat on, you'll be blinded.
I am all of the gold that they all rush to,
the legend they call 'light at the end of the tunnel'.

You should be sorry, oh you should be sad,
all you would be is a runaway robber.
Because I could've been your brokeback god
now I would be everything but your lover.
I put my hat down to say sorry for being your bandit,
Now I ride to where the lights would welcome me,
far away from all the grime, dirt and strife
They all cheer and whistle and holler my name,
while you weep that your whole life,
let alone your morning rides will never be the same.
Yee to the f**king haw.
Ira Desmond Jan 1
Winter had arrived
overnight, and

we had slept soundly through it, the
snow smothering

any sounds that dared
try to escape.

The morning arrived clear and sunny
and cold.

I was washing the dishes in that
old kitchen sink of ours when I noticed them—

footprints through the snow in our backyard—I couldn’t
say how many sets there were—

starting at the back fence and
proceeding directly

to our kitchen window. You
told me that you were going to head outside

to shovel the walk, but I told you
that I would take care of it, and I put on

my boots but no jacket, and I walked
out the back door, shovel held tightly

in hand. The tracks traced
the full perimeter of our house—

they appeared to be searching
for something—and they stopped

right outside of her
bedroom window—I couldn’t say

how many sets there were, or how long
they’d stood there while she slept.

I don’t know what
compelled me, but I turned the shovel

over, hurriedly using its edge to scrape
away the footprints there beneath the

window, the grass beneath them still
green and struggling to breathe.

And when I came back inside
you asked me

what I was up to out there, and I told you
that it was too cold

to shovel, that we should put on
another *** of coffee,

that we should stay inside
and not face the day,

and let the children
keep sleeping.
Ryan Seth Cole Mar 2022
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?

I have a soft spot for westerns.This is a love letter to a classic western I used to enjoy
Traveler Nov 2020
$A song by a Canadian band$

When the dragons grow too mighty
To slay with pen or sword
I grow weary of the battle
And the storm I walk toward

When all around is madness
And there's no safe port in view
I long to turn my path homeward
To stop a while with you

When life becomes as barren
And as cold as winter skies
There's a beacon in the darkness
In a distant pair of eyes

In vain to search for honor
And in vain to search for truth
But these things can still be given
Your love has shown me proof

Poet/lyricist  Neil Elwood Peart
Traveler Tim
Alan Abstract Aug 2020
The final frontier is the produce aisle
Deli slicers becoming sharper the longer the wait
A silhouette of man walks in...
He keeps his cigarette case beside a miniature purple *****
His hat real low, a tacky star fruit badge, and a belt of attendance awards
Always first in line
Buzzer calling for ticket number nine
His hand slowly draws for his concealed nine
Hand to hand and eye to eye
"The regular, gimme my cut, gimme the rolls, gimme the cheese"
Plastic bag with the goods
A slick crawl out of the store
Pulls out his bag to inspect the rolls
"**** this is honey turkey!"
Simone Gabrielli Aug 2020
The gypsy hymns and railway trails
which you followed into the valley of your trials
Lady Luck brought you enough street child wisdom and thief given kindness
to turn the tracks around and the train whistle to wake me.
Desert saint of your weathered ways
with your thin wrists and moon gleaming lips
Hope to you was like a blinding sunrise, painful to acknowledge, yet sorely lacking without
Never could be without your Larkspur boquets and marigold wreaths
August heat heavy with the scent of cypress trees
Apollo of the dusty sea, flooded the cliffs with light like withering flames
born from boxcar visions and a desperate hunger for that windblown hallelujah we chased down the starlit trestles like missionaries. Summoned from our streetcar medallions, vagabond nymphs, rumbling through moth-eaten states and barren dusks, lazy moon gazing upon our dolorous times and wild days and all our rough and rowdy ways.
No need to heed the judgements of the stars.
With the arid land so wild and lonesome- we weave our own muse into the railway line- followed back to when you were my home, and the streets were the laurel crown of your vagrant fortune.
toward western hills
the last vestiges of light
sink as day draws down
Maggie Aug 2020
coyote calls make canyons quiver
stars sleep in ponderosa trees
dry your tears in the fire’s glow
wild is a pretty place to be
Billie Marie Jul 2020
me me me me me me me me me
you you you you you you

All of this seems so silly now.
Why are so much of the important things in this life not spoken?
Why do we choose and remember to forget our true reality for a shadow of our own light?
This that we have made is not better or even just as good.
Who is tired of the lie?
Souls lilt as flowers from poor soil and no sunlight.
We are drowning in thunderstorms of our own tears,
yet we keep drinking and drinking.
What else do we know?
How else were we taught to live?
Show me a reality I can sink into without losing my Self.
We are the ones we have been searching for.
Jessica Duru Jul 2020
Her smile,
that smile
Her beauty that yonder shines,
and her love which doth strengthens me
Like the wind blowing unceasingly
Across the White Eastern sea
Shall it forever be?
Oh,I wish...
If only wishes do come true

I feel the longing pile up
With each day that goes by,
Shall it ever pass?
Oh,I doubt
Love is really hard like they say

Everything seems so broken
Even from afar,
One could still see
Can it ever be fixed?
Oh,I know not...
Nor the royal empress herself
For the rust will forever go on...

A Forever Rust
The poem centers on a man who loves his treasure so dear; A woman born with a fine, white skin like that of a newborn, and an exotic beauty which the beholder never seems to overlook. But then, the tragic wind came blowing in their path, seperating them, and leaving the poet personae broken and void. He fears he'll never be healed of the damage caused and doubts there will ever be an end to his aching pain.....
Next page