BIG WINDYS









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YOU BE DAMNED pt. 3


Well, we told the story many times as the years rolled by
The sometimes funny, but painful, story of my multi-colored eye
On the twenty first anniversary of my first trip out west
They had a celebration in the little town I've come to detest.

They'd heard the story repeated over the years
And had come to resent all the nasty sneers and jeers
So they set about changin' the name of their little place
And here is where the story get's another face.

They invited me to come and speak to the town
So once again I journeyed on the train westward bound
The agent at the ticket window was, yes, the very same
And once again he asked me for the destination's name.

"Oh, no, here we go again," I thought in my head
I'm gonna have to tell him something I fear I'll dread
I knew already that I didn't have a sporting chance
So I just stood there looking dumbfounded in a trance.

You'd think by now I would be acustomed to wearing a radiant shiner
I've worn one so often, I should have a free pass on this luxury liner
But fate wouldn't have it any other way
It was on this trip that I began to rue the day.

I tried for all I was worth to find a way out
But the ticket man wouldn't give me the doubt
I tried to tell him the name of a town nearby
But the train didn't go there was his reply.

I knew what was coming next and I had to take courage
If I wasn't careful, this could be the trip that ruined my marriage
So I tried to blurt it out very quick and hide
But when I said "To Hell You Ride," he hit me in the eye.

As he gave me the ticket for the train on track nine
He said, "You look strangely familiar, have I seen your face or have you seen mine?"
"Aren't you the guy who gave me trouble years ago?"
I looked puzzled and pretended I didn't know.

Once he saw the blinker he just gave me for show
He suddenly seemed to recall the ticket he'd sold me long ago
He knew who I was alright but needed help with the name of the place to identify
I thought sure by now he'd be more rational but when I said "You Be Damned" he hit me in the other eye.

Now how I'm going to explain this when I get home will be the test of perserverance
She'll never believe the truth of my story with two black eyes in one appearance
So when she asked, I did what any man would do - I lied
And that's when she hit me in both eyes.

...
© 2024 Brian McNeaL Published, 4/24 & 4/25, 2024  NATIONAL COWBOY POETRY GATHERING FAN PAGE



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THE LURE

He liked to tie the flies
Slowly wrapping the colored threads
Around and around to make the prize
Maybe just right to land some steelheads

Patience and skill and desire
Works of art juried for a show
This one is already claimed by the buyer
But maybe he'll make another tomorrow

Watch the trout break the surface
Mouth open as he hits the air
Hooked on a fly you call pearl lace
Retrieve your fly, throw him back to be fair

Not much time spring, summer and fall
But winters give him a break from cows
Time to wind down and wind up a new crawl
I hear it's gonna be good this spring up by Taos

Some of his buddies stop by to swap fish tales
Big whoppers and little flies in the same room
As he wraps some red thread around a bent nail
This one's for his daughter's new groom

He was a doctor, the kind of guy who already knows
No need to ask ‘cause he's already said
Whatever is said, he's sure to oppose
Don't know why it was him she chose to wed

He thought good fish come from the store
Well, he's got to learn and this might be the way
He's never cast a line in the water before
But he'll get taught by an expert someday

Well not long after the honeymoon was at rest
They got him out on the riverbank
Wadders on and a real fly fisherman's vest
He never knew he was the object of a prank

Just before he'd cast his line in the river
Someone would swap out his fly
So the bent nail would deliver
And hook whatever happened to be nearby

Over and over they took turns showin’ him how to cast
While one was in front, helping with the moves
Another was behind swaping the hook out fast
All morning they worked until he was in the groove

Well, he reeled in old tires, snags and a Willy's Jeep hood
He reeled in just about everything except a trout
No one was disappointed. He caught exactly what he should
Until the next day when they were all down at the local hangout

True to his nature he was tellin’ all about how it's done
With a wink and a nod and a bent nail behind his back
The others were miming how he'd caught none
Suddenly he stopped talking, one of them was having a heart attack

In a flash he was performing CPR and dialing 911
In a few days the hospital had the patient back on track 
They credited the doc, said this could’ve been the final one
Which proves, you can lead a doc to water but that don't make him a quack


© 2024 Brian McNeal



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GRANDMA'S WISH


The whole family was gathered near
It wouldn't be long now, Grandma was up in years
She'd been bed ridden for quite awhile
And some of the family had come for miles.

She was feebly giving instructions to each one
Lessons about living a life well-done
But Junior, being only 12, was fidgety
He was disruptive and needed activity.

So Grandma said, "here son, come closer where I can see you"
Even on her death bed she was sharp enough to know what to do
"Would you do a big chore for me, to help me think?"
"Would you go downstairs and get me a nice cool drink."

"Sure Grandma," the lad said as he shuffled down to the refrigerator
"Don't worry Grandma, I'll get you something to help you feel better"
In the icebox he found a pitcher of moo juice
But right there, on the counter, was a big bottle of booze.

So he found a big glass and poured milk in about half way up to the top
Looked over at the vodka bottle and stopped
"I wonder what this will do" he thought
So he grabbed the bottle and poured in just a little drop.

He looked at the glass and it was impossible to tell
It hadn't changed the color any and it didn't have a smell
So, carefully, he poured in just a little bit more
Still the color hadn't changed and there was no odor.

Grandma sure needs this, he thought
So he poured in more vodka all the way to the top
He took that glass up to the room and said
"Here Grandma, I'm sorry you feel so bad."

Her shaking hand brought the glass slowly up to her lips
Then very painstakingly she took just a little sip
Slowly she moved the glass away and set it on the nightstand
The room was quiet as she wiped her lips with her hand.

Everyone was waiting for her next words of wisdom
No one knew, but the vodka was working its way through her system
Then the tiniest hint of a smile appeared on her face
Slowly she reached over until her hand found the place.

With a little more steadiness and a slightly firmer grip,    
Slowly and cautiously, she again took another little sip
She didn't put the glass back down this time
And still the family waited for more words to the wise.

Grandma said not a word as she looked about her precious family
Then she took much bigger sip and licked her lips casually
Someone thought they'd just seen a new spark of life
As they waited for more of Grandma's advice

Suddenly she rolled her eyes back in her head
Fearfully, they all thought this might be the end
She lifted that glass and gulped down the rest
Then sat straight up in bed and made her last request.

She said, "I've tried to teach you what I know"
"And I hope you'll remember me whether I go up or down below"
"When I'm gone, you can sell the house the farm and the plow"
"But whatever you do, DON'T SELL THAT COW!"

                                     ...

© 2024 Brian McNeal



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GROSSER WINDIG (Big Windy)

I'm not entirely sure how this came to be
But the story was told of the cowboy in Germany
He wasn't Gypsy or Jewish but he was a bit strange
With his big hat, his horse, gun, and talk of the range

Those Nazi rounders didn't know what to think
Even with their translators, there was a missing link
Now that's the word for ''left" in their land
And just the beginning of the misunderstand

He couldn't imagine why they always wanted to go left
Someone said "Links" and he pulled his watch chain from his vest
Confused goosestepping with a language hurdle
Nazis forcing commands - all loud and verbal

Every time they said the word "nein," 
He'd up it to ten and say, "Now the bid's mine"
When they said "Ja", he'd say "gee haw"
And think they must have incredible chutzpah

Cowboy doin' the best he can with cowboy honor
It aint' his fault they don't like that he's Amerikaner
Now when ol' Adolf came around with his itty-bitty 'stache
The wranglin' westerner just began to laugh

He had the advantage of seeing the Hollywood news reels 
And unlike Chaplin and Hardy, Hitler was a real heel
"Sieg heil," the Deutchlanders said, and the cowboy agreed
"A hell of a heel," he replied, "Certainly no Siegfried"

The story ends with a gunshot in the subterranean hideaway
Some thought it was Hitler himself who blew his dumm kopf away
But our Rocky Mountain puncher has a secret that no one knows 
It was his own Colt 45 and that's the way the story goes

By the way, we called him "Lucky" after that act
Which was short for Luck Bergsrich and that's a fact
Now if you're good with anagrams you won't need a computer
To learn that the hero of this story was good old Schicklgruber



© 2025 Brian McNeal



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TWO VETS   


It was the occasion of the annual world-wide veterinarians convention.
There were horse docs, bovine specialists and even a parakeet chiropractor who got everyone's attention.
During one of the break-out sessions as they were mingling around the coffee station,
Two of 'em happened to strike up a very interesting conversation.

As the week-long convention started nearing it's end,
These two realized they had certainly become fast friends.
And they decided they should get back together sooner rather than later,
But each of them lived on opposite sides of the equator

Now the horse doc was from the Texas Hill Country around Kerrville.
So he invited his new friend out to his ranch for some international goodwill.
And being it was somewhat of a drive from Houston where the convention was held,
The horse doc, being Texan, just naturally took advantage to brag about how everything in Texas excelled.

Texas was the biggest state in the lower 48.
And when it came to pretty women, well there were just none other who could equate.
He reminded his friend how Texas had a bigger economy than most nations.
And how Texas must surely be God's favorite creation.

Next came the story of how much oil his wells could make.
Taking it all in stride, the other vet just thought to himself, "my God, he's opened the floodgate."
Then the Texan talked about the size of his longhorn cattle herd.
And all the while, the other vet kept politely silent and said not a word.

After a week of touring around the Texas ranch and hearing how big everything was in the Lonestar State.
It was time to part and the Aussie doc said: "Next year, it's your turn to come to Australia to see me, mate."
The two made plans for the following year for the Texas Doc to see the Aussie sheep station down under.
They smiled and waved, the Texas doc never realizing the size of his blunder.

Next year when the two met up again, they smiled and shook hands.
The sheep doc looked at the Texas doc and said I hope you're ready to see a bit of Aussieland.
They reacquainted themselves on the long drive in the Land Rover.
Suddenly a Kangaroo hopped in front, looked at the vehicle then jumped right over.

"Good grief" said the Texas doc. "What in the world was that?"
Shaken to his core, his heart beating fast, his pants full of scat.
Well now, the Aussie man, who had been waiting the whole year, just smiled and said,
"Gee Doc, I thought you told me you had jack rabbits back on your Texas spread."

...

Published: 4/15/24  National Cowboy Poetry Gathering Fan page  Facebook


© 2024 Brian McNeal



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VOICE OF THE WIND

Nebraska sand hills were blown in
From the never-ending Wyoming wind
Drier than desert dust in Summer
The wind in Wyoming is a bummer

From the Cheyenne rodeo to Casper's oil derricks
Wyoming wind is nothing but barbaric
It's the end of the plains, the Rocky's afterglow
It simply has no place else to go

It screams in through the door
It blows the papers on the floor
The weather stripping becomes untuned reeds
Like an old accordion that bleeds

It's the wolf at the door, howling for more and more
It's a wintertime truth, impossible to ignore
With never any let-up, never any peace
The wind in Wyoming will never ever cease

Oh, the howling that never ends
All night long, never to make amends
Torture to hear, painfull on the ears
Oh, the howling I suffered for years



© 2025 Brian McNeal





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THE OTHER BROTHER


A dude dressed in his best eastern duds,
A mail-order cowboy came out West to annoy.
Made to look, by hook or crook, like a decoy.
The truth is told when he can't hold his suds.

In the gladhouse where gaiety abides,
He spent all his chink on too much drink.
Gambled away his stay and slept in the sink.
Never to be accused of being a sobersides.

On the prod with a horse just shod.
A bank robbery that was strictly cash and carry.
Identifiable tracks outback leading to the necessary.
No bang for the gang from a dedicated tightwad.

Loco gringo in a Federale shoot-out.
Chaos and disorder down on the border.
Advised to be disguised as a sweet Mary boarder,
He was stashed away in a bordello hideout. 

His twin with a grin appeared soon after.
Tested and arrested for crimes commited,
By the other brother, said to be dim-witted.
The joke's on the bloke who came for laughter.

It's either the hoosegow or the noose now,
For the feller with a gun at the teller.
He went astray, they say, and became a badlands dweller.
Now he's a cowboy on the wrong end of a plow.

On the run with a gun, avoiding the law.
Gunfight in sight, out the window shoeless.
Caught with the lot, betrayed by a Judas,
The day the posse played 'em in Wichita.

And so, at the end of this allegory story, is the moral.
Never trust a mail-order cowboy from the East.
Fancy Dans in Miss Nancy Ann's are soon deceased,
When two brothers and one lover begin to quarrel.




© 2025 Brian McNeal





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ZIG ZAG

We never knew just what he'd do in any given situation
Sometimes he'd drink beer and sometimes he'd have a libation
Some days, he'd ride point and some days he preferred the drag
We could never know for sure, so we always called him Zig Zag

He never argued, but he also never agreed
He was about as unpredictable as a filly on loco weed
To do what was unexpected was what he expected to do
Imagine trying to keep everything copasetic with the crew

We knew, long ago he'd been in the big war in Italy and France
He never talked much about it, he'd just get in a trance
One day, he let it slip that that's where he learned his instincts 
But only after we lubricated him up with several mixed drinks

He said he used cigarette papers for reports, 'cause they were thin
And if the Nazis ever got too close, he'd just roll 'em up and smoke 'em
No one ever thought much about a person having rolling papers
They were about as common in those days as city neighbors

That's when we discovered that he was no ordinary soldier
With a few more drinks, we got a little more disclosure
He worked for a secret branch of the army under a code name
He was known as "Bugler" back then, another rolling paper's name

No wonder he'd turn left when we thought he'd go right
Now we know how he dodged capture in the middle of the night
He was never in that bed on the night they raided the farm
Instead, he was counting train cars, far from the harm

Sending the intelligence on Bugler rolling papers by pigeon
Dodging the enemy and trying to stay out of a Nazi prison
Always looking over his shoulder and covering his tracks
Zig Zag was a very fitting name for a feller with a deceptive past

To zig when one should zag is most often an error
Due to limited foresight or inexperience or just lack of due care
But, a calculated zig instead of an expected zag, sometimes
Just might mean that you're the one who survives

 



© 2025 Brian McNeal





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UNDER TORNADO WATCH

When there's no cell signal out on the ranch
The tornado warnings don't even have a chance
A cowboy on horseback is prime prey
For a lightning strike or a tornado's melee

The bunkhouse and radiophone are five miles back
With the horse acting up and clouds almost black
Looking around, I see no shelter anywhere that is suitable
The mistake of lying next to a barbed wire fence is indisputable

Before I can make a move, the wind is on us, and I'm on the ground
I can only remember regaining consciousness and looking around
I couldn't feel my legs when I tried to stand up, and then I'm back down
I had a strange buzzing in my head, and my voice couldn't make a sound

My arms and hands were useless as they hung from my shoulders like putty
My horse was on the wrong side of the barbed wire fence and acting nutty
The fence was still intact, so how he got there, I'll never know
If I could get him to jump back over, I'd never get him to whoa

I tested the fence with the buckle on the end of my leather belt
Just as I expected, the metal buckle began to melt
How long does a lightning charge take to discharge and dissipate?
About as much time as it would take me to walk to the ranch gate

Walk, hell! What was I thinkin'? I could hardly stand
Spending the night out there in the rain was not my plan
I cussed the devil and praised the Almighty
Lo and behold, I could stand if only ever so slightly

Well, praise be, here comes the boss in the ranch truck
At the hospital, the doc said I could win the lottery with my luck
But luck ain't the thing, and probably not the right word
'Cause now I sing an octave higher and my speech is slurred

But, I suppose there is a silver lining to this hellish nightmare
Not only do I have this fantastically wild story to share,
But when I die, my cremation will only cost half the sum
The funeral director said it was 'cause I was already half-done



 © 2025 Brian McNeal






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