"stetson" poems
#STICK’EM UP with LIQUID NAILS
DANGER ! EXTREMELY FLAMMABLE
See Other Caution on Back Panel:
I’m hot for you Cowgirl – you’re so flammable my glue-gun starts to melt; my screwdriver starts twisting when you loosen that low-slung belt. You make me feel like laying re-bar in a freshly-poured foundation. Shoot me up with that caulk gun baby – I need you like salvation. Ten and one-half fluid ounces – pull off your top, pop a love-cap in me. Fingerin’ your trigger while the job is gettin’ bigger so take me for a ride to the hardware store, honey, cause I’m seeing red and feeling white on your golden background’s sheer delight. Hammer me a heart-full, spike me on a cross of blonde, I’m hanging ten, surfing the tube of your magic wand. I’ve been in love ever since I first waterproofed my seamy undersides with you… stand over me in those red, red boots, you Liquid Nails Girl – and from your pure white Stetson let righteousness unfurl. You won the shoot-out long before you even drew, my dear. Lost hope of the Wild West, Final Frontal Feminine Frontier – there’s only one side of you… your GOOD side. Just one look and your fearless gaze silences the foes, my blooming prairie rose.
YEE – HAW ! Be my angel, be my dream, my valentine rodeo queen, be my bodyguard, my therapist, long & tall & hard & wet – be my Liquid Nails Girl forever and I’ll ride right into your sunset…
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
I heard John
sing a song
a sweet melody
for his ocean child
with seashell eyes —
windy smile
his lyrics halved
into meaningless
his heart subdued
in one morning moon
bring tears dripped
on eighth notes
crossed out by Salinger
I listen again
this time through
cupped seashell
intoxicated
on ocean musk
only to see
this chick
with golden hair
glimmering, shimmering
in the floating sky
she smiles
she sings
her name
Julia
©2011 chuck a stetson
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 2:03 AM UTC
Leaving Minnesota on train or buses,
crowded and alone, were you fearful
to sleep on couches and of the Village
people with a rhapsody of dreams
and cacophony of chords, under rain
and sewer stank was it hard,
to step inside and play
the first time for glistening eyes
and stage lights and to let melody
escape your belly-throat
for them, or did you know
more, that words can sculpt
delicacy as smooth
as Donatello and that life can be bought
without wrinkled greens and pressed
threads? Walking under a hard-rain
of assumption and change, did Greenwich
birth a demon-sadness, so you hid
your neck beneath collars and dark
glasses and smoky rhyme, when the ship
comes in will you be onboard or escape
to Louisiana, misunderstood, working
a river boat after you give Lennon
a puff and Warhol a tight-fist?
Did sad-eyed Sara send you back
leather spanish boots or forget,
and was Christ able to mend that
broken love, and did you later kick his idiot
wind away and in 2009 on stage when I could
see emptiness and heartbreak
hidden underneath your creased stetson,
were you still singing
it ain't me, babe?
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 8:26 PM UTC
Delivered to us by an optimistic gentleman in a black Stetson cap
who spent his days waving village traffic down with an open hand,
it's been four years since you were sat on the bookshelf in Kath's house.
You stood proud, surveying the fine china made across the border
wrapped up in donated newspaper articles and pristine hand-me-downs,
while my inky fingers welcomed regulars who only ever looked around.
Each weekend we were greeted by bright smiles set in permanent shadow.
Sometimes I declined banknotes on the street for carrying dismantled tables.
I'm still searching for namesakes when perched on local stones above sea level.
Friends like Elvis were divisive figures due to their signature tobacco smells.
Under a green bus shelter, I laughed at his frown about a Midlands town.
Thinking about the rows of vacant church seats still leaves me cold
even now. As I watch needles drop onto rocks and a solitary shell,
your frame shrivels daily and bends you crooked like a question mark.
Oh, Eric - will I ever meet your father again to discuss your burial?
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 11:16 AM UTC
there was a little rabbit he loved the rodeo
oneday he decided he would have a go
he put on his stetson on to shade from the sun
then on to the rodeo to go and have some fun
he mounted on his horse and put a number on his back
trying rope a steed while riding round the track
people they were cheering and loved his little show
then into air his stetson he did throw
he was really happy that he had pleased the crowd
then rode in to the sunset feeling very proud
Apr 4, 2010
Apr 4, 2010 at 7:40 AM UTC
Come on now, brother
you were raised so well,
you got everything you ever wanted
and as far as we could tell
you were going to go far
no one expects the worst
but sadly now, it's all we know
it's troublesome for all,
it feels like a curse
I know it must be harder than it seems
wanting something so badly,
nearly breaking at the seams
but it is up for you to decide whats important
this life is only all it means
You had all the friends you could've dreamed of
you were part of the cool crowd
I looked up to you
even when you and your friends were too loud
too loud quickly became too much
and pretty soon, we were out of touch
the sad part is neither of us made an effort to show we cared
and you needed me most, but I wasn't there
you went off to college
to become a better man
to make something of yourself
to be able to publicly stand
and say, "I am a college graduate,
the first in my family
look how far I've come everyone
my life is no longer in shambles"
you were always off of the rocker
you weren't fooling anyone
you came back home and it wasn't a shocker
you never could put those old habits down
your blue eyes glossy, always wearing that frown
your face broken out, covered in sweat
we tried and tried to tell you to give it a rest
we all love you,
and we want you to understand
we aren't trying to hurt you
just trying to have you land
this plane you've been on
way up high
it's been 8 years
come down, Stetson
it's time
You've spent too many minutes
with that gun in your mouth
You've been too close to death
I've seen it, I've lost count
Where is the brother I know and admire
I want you to tell the truth,
you've never been a good liar
I want to share more with you than just mundane talks
they don't mean anything, and
I wish you'd walk
away from this life and move on from the past
you're no longer the "cool guy"
you're better than that
you're smart and talented
and you're my brother,
I'll always have your back
I've seen you at your lowest,
these are things I'll never forget
but we all need to move on
rid of our regrets
Stetson, I love you,
I really do
but I want to hold on to more than these memories of you
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 1:49 PM UTC
Space Cowboy
He said he was a Miller
but he carried a kow-kow calculator
see him on the street
he'd say hey I'll catch you later
from children of the future
a 10 gallon Stetson on his head
he could fly like an eagle
or cruise his Mercury blues instead
they say he took the money and ran
rumor was Junior saw it happen
yeah he and ***** Mae
boy did he need a good ***** slappin'
years later he was seen in swingtown
a joker jumpin' for jungle love
lost his golden key to the highway
hoping to find wild mountain honey above
c'mon and dance make some romance
bump bump bump on the steppin' stone
he left again on a big jet airliner
and never did answer his telephone
Gomer LePoet ....
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 10:30 PM UTC
I’m on my way to San Antone
Gonna cowboy up
There’s a filly there I need to see
Sure enough, we’ll build a fire
Take in the Alamo
Then we’ll dance at The Wagon Wheel
The best honky-tonk I know
I’ll be on my best behave
The whole weekend through
I met her through Cowboy Date
The internet is cool
This solo buckaroo
Don’t intend to be single for long
This is our fourth rendezvous
I’m not usually wrong
I got a new Stetson hat
Took my spurs off
There’s a spring in my gait
I look like George Strait
In my fresh-pressed cowboy shirt
I even got some cologne on
Now, that’s a first
I could go on and on
I told my Mom she’s the one
I’ll tell my gal tonight
We’ll ride off into the sunset together
Assuming everything goes all right
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 12:17 PM UTC
plug-in your head music
remember being young
on a pogo stick
a unicycle
with training wheels
under
sunshine of your
love
o’ shine on
you crazy
diamond
run in the
jungle
feel the rain
on sunny day
and let it be
misunderstood
stop your moon tears?
run in Reeboks?
come on
you painter of
words
chew
good & plenty
plant
lime lima beans
kaleidoscope kale
juicy fruit gum
harvest
magenta mangos
paisley peaches
or go to an auction
bid on
T-bone
bubble gum
sprout beans
Tahitian telecaster
pre-rolled wagon wheel
sweet sixteen candles
Hound Dog Taylor’s
Brownie McGhee loafers
no?
yes?
don’t change
your lunatic fringe
in twilight’s open season
read
The Hidden Singer
dance
boogie woogie
cha-cha-cha
outside the house of the rising sun
so turn it up, Mr. James
your big wheel
keeps on turnin’
groove
to the little bird
who sings and sings
© 2011 chuck a stetson
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 7:07 PM UTC
there was a little bear he just loved to dance
anywhere he could when he got the chance
he just love to line dance dancing in a row
fancy struts and turns bear could really go
with his stetson hat and a cowboy suit
bear he looked the part and he looked so cute
they held a competition in the village hall
looking for the dancer who would be best of all.
now bear had his chance to win the local show
the music started playing bear began to go
doing fancy turns in perfect harmony
dancing for the crowd for everyone to see.
everyone was clapping tapping with there feet
shouting more to bear who gave them such a treat
bear he beat them all.now he was the best
this dancing little bear from the way out west.
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
i went to a rodeo in the usawhere i saw a sign saying rodeo here to dayi put my stetson hat on so i looked the partthen sat down and watched as it began to startthere were lot of cowboys chasing round the steerspeople they were clapping send out there cheersthen came a cowboy riding his big white horsedoing lots of tricks while riding round the courseit was just a amazing i really enjoyed the showand wont forget my day at the rodeo
Feb 25, 2010
Feb 25, 2010 at 6:31 AM 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
Rats in my Kitchen
I got Rats in my kitchen,
I got a mind to be bitchin'
I'm free and easy twisting
a perfectly nasty cadence
with my six strings,
singing like I'm a star draw
at 'The bucket of blood,'
got a bone handled knife
it keeps my life
ongoing
makes other men’s wife's feel safe,
eliminates slow mindedness
some times I scrapes it up side
my trusty singing strings,
drives women crazy
to shuffle their *****
up and down the blood ingrained boards.
my fans think I'm your Jesus incarnate,
I think I'm closer Satan’s hounds o' Hell,
they sing so loud
they hardly needs me at all,
but I'm here for my stack of Dollars,
my fun with the women who wants me most,
and my fun reducing that stack.
cause I is so popular with the gals
I gots to watch the shifting eyes
'neath the Stetson hats,
cold as steel
they’d like to pierce me
with a stare
"I wasn’t born yesterday mother,"
I study my steps
and is now wise
you take one at a time.
I cares for little
'cept delivering' the Blues
to the people like me,
that’s when I hit my natural peak!
and I is indulgent in seein'
you is comming with me
to the bottom of the river of whiskey,
the blues sustains me
been my real mother
since my baby left me.
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 9:01 AM UTC
When I die I'll finally have the time
to go visit with my mother,
do the dishes and all those little somethings.
It'd be more money-coming
to my sister and brother.
When I die I'll maybe turn to the Lord,
the only room and board I could afford.
When I die don't bury me.
Just a ghostly linen sheet will do.
Prop me up in the corner discreet.
A Stetson hat, underwear, and my Italian shoes.
When I die let's have us a time–
big bonfire in the woods with wine.
We can go up to my shack
where no one can find us,
lay around in the sack
n' get simpleminded.
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 3:40 PM UTC
there was a little rabbit he loved the rodeo
one day he decided he would have a go
he put on his stetson to shade him from the sun
then on to the rodeo . to go and have some fun
he mounted on his horse with a number on his back
trying to rope a steed while riding round the track
people they were cheering and loved his little show
then into air his stetson he did throw
he was really happy that he had pleased the crowd
then rode in to the sunset feeling very proud.
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 2:11 PM UTC
I went down to my local bar
It was country music night
I sat and listened for a while
Then, called it a night
I didn't get the music
It was poppish, bubblegum
I finished up my beer and left
I wished I hadn't come
When did we lose Western?
When did Western cease to be?
They may call it Country music
But, it don't sound right to me
All I saw were baseball hats
On backwards I should stay
Kids were doing jello shots
And the "band" just couldn't play
They didn't sing of horses
Old Glory, or the West
They sang of drinking on a plane
And getting drunk and messed
When did we lose Western?
Where did Western go?
This isn't country music
It's something I don't know
On Tuesday I went back again
Open Mic night would be fun
I came in with my guitar
But, I didn't bring my gun
I got on stage and started out
Singing songs...all Western
I was the only one without a cap
I was wearing my old Stetson
When did we lose Western?
Where did Western cease to be?
This wasn't what I grew up on
It isn't right to me
Cowboys, farms and Johnny Cash
Willie Nelson, Patsy Cline
That is what I like to hear
That's the music that is mine
Next time I go in there
And it is Country night
I'm gonna ask "what country?"
And I'll end up in a fight
When did we lose Western?
When did Western cease to be?
This may be Country Music
But it don't sound right to me
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 11:22 AM UTC
there was a little rabbit he loved the rodeo
oneday he decided he would have a go
he put on his stetson to shade him from the sun
then on to the rodeo to go and have some fun.
he mounted on his horse . put a number on his back
try and rope a steed while riding round the track
people they were cheering and loved his little show
then into air his stetson he did throw.
he was really happy that he had pleased the crowd
then rode in to the sunset feeling very proud.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 9:08 AM UTC
there was a little wolf and he just long to be
a cowboy in the west riding high and free
he bought himself a stetson and some cowboy suits
then he bought some stirrups and put them on his boots
bought himself some guns of the very best
then a sheriffs star and pinned to his chest
he mounted on his horse a nice big dapple grey
then off into the sunset the wolf he rode away
he became a lawman in the great wild west
then became a sheriff of the very best
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 12:18 PM UTC
there was a little mouse he loved the rodeo
he travelled to america so he could have a go
he boarded on a plane to america he flew
be a cowboy star make his dreams come true
he bought himself a stetson and a big lasso
to rope himself a steer like the cowboys do
then they called his name time to have his go
now the mouse was ready to ride the rodeo.
people they applauded to see the little mouse
showing all his skills he brought down the house
doing little tricks now a star was he
a proper little cowboy just like he longed to be.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
I sat up late with a Shoot-em-up
While the wife went off to bed,
There was a time I’d have joined her, but
She only had sleep in her head.
There was Gabby Hayes and a guy called Clint
Holed up in a barn, in Mo.,
And blasting away at the barn outside
Was an evil guy, called Joe.
I knew which was the good and the bad
Though they each wore a Stetson hat,
For Hayes and Clint’s were a pearly white
While this evil Joe’s was black.
He’d robbed the Stage, and hidden the loot
In the barn, where the good guys lay,
He yelled, ‘You’d better throw out them sacks,
If not, then you’d better pray!’
‘The Sheriff will come and kick your ****
Rang out the voice of Clint,
‘I’ll say, Dadburned if he don’t,’ said Hayes
‘You’re a pesky, bad varmint!’
Then it ended, as the old westerns did
With Joe laid out on a slab,
Though he starred again in a hundred films
He was always labelled bad.
I went out onto the porch to smoke
It was warm, a summer night,
While the Southern Cross shone up above
In the Milky Way, so bright,
And I pondered then on a single line
That Joe had snarled, to connive,
‘If you don’t throw out them sacks right now
You’ll never get out alive!’
The world is full of the likes of Joe
Who threaten and rob, and steal,
While the rest of us are lying low
And living a life that’s real.
But he said one thing that applies to us
To the bad and the good that strive,
Whatever the sort of life you live
You’ll never get out alive!’
David Lewis Paget
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 10:02 PM UTC
She purchased a Trilby hat in lieu of a Stetson
Her shoulders seemed to stoop
whenever she lit her famous Sobranie.
The rolling countryside always felt like despair
more bramble than Strawberry Fair
She found herself in New Brighton, bracing the sea air
a sought job in a Mobile Fish and Chip Van
was assuredly the Lisa Presley way.
But her heart hankered for Hull, the dare was brazen
to partake in a Photography class
to record civil disobedience.
Perhaps a suitable hat
would be a beret
for that inveighed look
our dear Sandra McClain.
Nov 6, 2012
Nov 6, 2012 at 4:53 PM UTC
It's dust, mostly
the kind that burrows
deep into the creases
of his forehead
and hides inside
the crinkles
around his eyes
It's forever stuck
to the soles of his boots
and never rinses out
of his denims
in the river,
not entirely
And it finds a way
to roll with beads
of sweat in dripping
lines exposing
parchment skin
but somehow never
penetrates the ring
around his head,
preserved forever
by his stetson's brim
And it's also ashes
from chaparral
and tumbleweeds,
lit up in circles
where he camped
leaving a trail
of where he's been,
like breadcrumbs
swept away in a
restless breeze
It's the creaking sound
of leather in his saddle
and the rhythmic
thud of horseshoes
pounding sunbaked ground
It's the wind in his face
that grits his teeth
and squints his
glassy eyes
It's standing in the stirrups
to fly above the racing plain,
keeping balance
with the whipping mane
It's the endless sky,
and the horizon
that never fades
But mostly,
it's the dust
that he holds
in upraised palms
slipping through
his fingers, disappearing
from his touch
in the wild and still
untamed range
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
"You can have my wife.
I’ll give up my truck.
I admit, without them
Life would really ****
Take my riding mower
And my rod and reel;
And while you are at it,
Take my new fifth wheel.
That will really hurt;
Life won't be so fun.
But you can take most anything;
Just don’t take my gun!
"Come and get my tools—
My hammer and my drill.
Don’t forget to also
Take my Solaire grill.
I’ll part with my saws—
Dovetail, chain, and rip.
Take the whole tool shed;
I ain’t gonna quip.
You can have my kids—
Take ‘em one by one.
I’ll get by without ‘em all;
Just don’t take my gun!
"Take my fishing tackle
And my motor boat.
If you want I’ll even
Throw in my last oat.
Go on, take my Stetson
And my Tony Lamas
And that mantle clock there
(Though it was my mama’s).
Hell, take all my clothes—
Don’t bother leaving none.
I don’t need ‘em anyway;
Just don’t take my gun!
"You can have my sofa
And my favorite chair.
Take my widescreen TV;
I don’t really care.
Go on, take my beer,
My freezer full of grouse,
My washer and my dryer...
Take the whole **** house.
I’ll give you all my tales—
Every yarn I’ve spun.
You can have my heart and soul;
Just don’t take my gun!"
- by Bob B
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 10:18 AM UTC
there was a little rabbit a clever chap was he
and to be a cowboy he just long to be
with a great big stetson boots and big lasso
riding in a rodeo is what he longed to do
he took a little trip to the usa
to a place in texas where all the cowboys stay
then he made a visit to the rodeo
hoping get a chance and maybe have a go
rabbit got his chance and mounted on his horse
with his big lasso rode around the course
putting on a show for everyone to see
he was very happy a cowboy now was he
people started cheering at the rabbits skill
just to watch him ride gave them such a thrill
rabbit he was happy is dream it had come true
now he was a cowboy just like he longed to do
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 8:16 AM UTC