"cowhand" poems
His old mare cantered into to town
The covered wagon followed
A boy's first trip to town alone
He took it in, and swallowed
Penny candy dreams last night
And sarsparilla floats
The ladies' parasol fineries
The men in pinstriped coats
Perhaps a whiskey, what the hell
Today he was a man!
But first the livery stable for Brownie
For oats and a water can.
The .30-30 saddle gun would come with him, of course.
He also grabbed the belted Colt from the pommel of his horse.
The warped board sidewalks led past stores
His worn boots clopped along
He strapped on the .36 Navy Colt revolver
And fastened down the thong
He clopped down to the first saloon
Laid his rifle on the bar
A sporting girl sat next to him
With the unlikely name of "Star"
"A milk for the lady.
Myself as well,
Barkeep, if you please!"
A cowhand howled out raucous laughter,
Flipping up Ms. Star's dress, to well above her knees
"That little pup, he wants some milk
So Star, give him yer ****
I'll bend him over, spank his ***
And then give YOU a treat!"
The young man's vision doubled, trebled,
The shame clear on his face
As tears welled up in big blue eyes
A witness in every soul in the place
"Aw, the little ***** is bawling! WAH!"
The cowhand bellowed out
And all false mirth left his expression
And he gave the boy a clout
The boy just sat and sobbed and watched
As Ms. Star joined in the joke
But cowhand was already 3 bottles in,
In a flash, her nose was broke
Cowhand reached across the boy
To grab that sweet, sleeved rifle
The boy grabbed cowhand's wrist just then
And twisted it just a trifle
A yelp and howl from cowhand's mouth,
"YOU BROKE MY ****** WRIST!
NOW you're ****** you little sprat"
He took a swing, and missed.
Red faced, clumsy, humiliated
He drew leather on the boy
Dead to rights, he had the kid,
He realized, with grim joy
An explosion, a thump, on warped pine floor
Blue smoke curling in the air
Utter, vapid, vacuum silence
Patrons cemented to their chair
The tears were gone from those blue eyes
Blue steel as his gaze fixed
A hole had grown in cowhand's head
The size was .36
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 1:18 AM UTC
Walking step by step,
my mount makes his way through the deep green forest.
Mayapple leaves and redbud trees, visible.
Slowly making our way down the trail
Meandering here and there,
Watching the deer munching young spring leaves,
Staring at us as we stare at them.
Its easy in the saddle,
No stress, no calls, no incessant interruptions.
You can take in nature, rest your mind.
Relax in the saddle, hang your feet out of the stirrups,
Pat your equine friend on the shoulder,
and just be.
He will flick an ear, or swish his tail, sidestep,
or shy away from some unusual object once in awhile.
But mainly, just easing down the trail,
listening to the babble of the nearby brook,
watching the sunlight filter through the leaves.
Squirrels and red-headed woodpeckers
chattering angrily at our passing.
I don't know that there is anything quite so peaceful.
Just moseying like an old cowhand.
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 3:44 PM UTC
He's a cowboy in Connecticut
All Southern drawl and wide tooth grin
No matter how he tries it ain't no lie
The boy just don't fit in
He wears his Stetson hat, Alligator boots
Jingle Jangle Spurs with stylish Chaps
He dresses the part this cowboy work of art
Draws attention wherever he's at
He loves his Karaoke
Always requests a yodel song
When he's up on the stage folks don't know what to say
As he asks them all to sing along
You may wonder why he's not in Texas
He prefers it brisk and cold
Since he was born and raised among the Northern crazed
But it's the cowboy life that stole his soul
He has no cowhand to help with roundups
Local Yocals wouldn't dare be seen with him
He rides and ropes on his bike cats and dogs at night
With no horse or cattle to his name
Cause he's a cowboy in Connecticut
All Southern drawl and wide tooth grin
Where no matter how he tries it ain't no lie
The boy just don't fit in
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
The Cowhand
A cowboy has thin legs and a leathery face, if his horse breaks a leg,
he can’t walk, puts his saddle on the ground plays his mouth harmonica
waits for a new horse to come trotting along.; cowboy lives in Texas,
in Montana, he is a pretend movie cowboy
A cowboy isn’t gay, but likes masculine things such as loud farting, wrestling another cowboy to the ground and make love the same woman as his mate when going to the ***** house; and talk about it in the bar. That, is what
the manly thing to do, for a blue-blooded Texan cowboy.
May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 7:32 AM UTC