COWBOY RHYMES: COWBOY LOGIC

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THINGS A COWBOY LEARNS IN LIFE

People behind you always left home ten minutes too late.
And people in front of you are pure idiots.
Your dog is your best friend - until someone else has a cookie.
And burned toast is always better with jelly on it.

Herd mentality is not just limited to animals.
And some horses I know make better friends.
Boots always fit better when they're older
But you still can't take 'em with you in the end.

[Chorus]
What a cowboy knows about livin'
From watching the world go crazy
Always try to come out about even
But, never appear to be lazy

When training a horse or a dog
It is wise to always carry a biscuit.
Life would be so much easier
If I won the jackpot on the quick-pick.

Children do better with a little encouragement.
Adults do too for that matter.
Diesel tractors don't like the cold.
And flapjacks are better from homemade batter.

A tattooed number on your arm is not so good.
But a skull and cross-bones is something to brag on.
Why anyone would ever want to do that befuddles me.
But everyday, more and more are jumping on the wagon.

[Chorus]
What a cowboy knows about livin'
From watching the world go crazy
Always try to come out about even
But, never appear to be lazy

What used to hide in the closet for fear of discovery,
Now marches down the street, bold as anyone can be.
Squeeky wheels always get greased more often.
The circuses have all gone bust and the freaks we see for free.

The government always has our backs,
They're great for walking on.
A dude you can help but a gunsel is too far gone.
Politicians should eat all their words, or at least enough to choke on.

[Bridge]
Never lead and never follow
The guy in front can't watch his back
And the drag rider always bites the dust

It's a dog-gone shame a cowboy has to live all his life,
Before these lessons are fully learned.
Too soon old and too late smart,
And I should have saved at least half of all I earned.

© 2023 / Brian McNeal

PUBLISHED 4/26/24
NATIONAL COWBOY POETRY GATHERING FAN PAGE

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WHICH ONE IS REAL?

If ever you should find yourself with the occasion to wonder just which is which,

When you encounter two guys sitting in a Whiskey Row honkytonk.

Which one is the real cowboy and which one is going to give you a sales pitch.

Which guy rides a Harley and which one rides a saddle bronc.

"Well," you think, "the feller with the cowboy hat and boots surely must belong,"

"But the other, with the gym shoes and ball cap, looks out of place."

"Could it be the one who knows the words to every single cowboy song?"

"Or maybe it's the guy with the handlebar moustache hanging on his face."

After you've muddled it over in your head and you think you have the puzzle elucidated.

Just when you think you know which is which, you overhear their conversation.

The one with the hat and boots is talking about a horse he just had castrated,

And you realize you may have made an error in your original evaluation.

So now you begin to change your thinking and you look for more clues.

Listen more carefully without advertising that you're eavesdropping.

Hat and boots or cap and shoes, which is real, which one to choose?

Back and forth you go, over and over, your mind ever swapping.

As you study carefully, looking them over head to toe,

And you think you have deduced which one is real,

Pay no attention to their brand of tobacco.

Or the one you notice with Damascus steel.

Remember not all cowboys look like the Marlboro man.

One looks a little to shy and the other too direct.

Or one says he comes from Yuma, the other from Cheyenne.

No, you can't always tell by their looks and be one hundred percent correct.

It's a fifty-fifty chance that you'll be wrong whichever way you guess.

Tossing a coin in the air may be something to think about.

But it's probably not safe at all to assume by their style of dress.

Or to judge by their beers, one pilsner and the other stout.

After this, you can make bets with your friends and walk away rich.

It's a simple rule of cowboy logic, to which you should subscribe..

Your friends will always guess the hat and boots - it's part of the cowboy niche.

But when they ask you which one is real, it's the ball cap guy you want to describe.

You can keep it secret, just how it was that you figured it out.

You'll never need to reveal that you and I were in cahoots.

The guy with the gym shoes and ball cap is authentic - no doubt.

'Cause a real workin' cowboy can't afford no hat and boots

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A COWBOY LOOKS AT THE INTERNET

Thanksgiving Day, the family all around

Three generations conversing , without a sound

Sitting side by side in the Livingroom

Sharing words on an internet chatroom

The silliest thing I ever saw by far

Pixels and packets flying through the air

Bouncing off cell towers around the globe

Like a pinball, before reaching a temporal lobe

Two diametrically opposed views from strangers

Heated debate calculated only to anger

Reliance on supposition rather than facts

The internet is full of questionable and dubious acts

Challenges wild and crazy for no real purpose

More barkers, hawkers and Snake oil than the circus

No rules. Anything goes. Post what you wish

No penalties, Internet police don't exist

Trending measurements to suppress the unique

Everyone following. The individual is obsolete

Sharing or plagiarizing? The lines are blurred

We called it “Rustling.” I think that's a more honest word

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DEFINITION OF A COWBOY

We were doin' the preg check and semen tests on the stock
The vet was organized, thorough and quick
Seemed like we'd just get a critter in the squeeze and he'd start to squawk
Someone had thrown in a steer as a trick.

Well this happened over and over, about every 3rd one
And pretty soon the vet just started calling out "Open"
As soon as the critter came through, he was done
And then we'd send that one back to the holding pen.

Now every cow and bull that was tested
Got a mark placed on their hip
So the Vet's bill would not be contested
But no mark for the steers, those he skipped.

We'd send 'em on through and somehow they'd come back
Well after about half a day of this silly merry-go-round
The vet hollered out, "Who's the wisecrack maniac"
He was just about to come unwound.

"I've seen this same steer about twenty times already" he said.
"Now I can take a joke as good as the next feller"
"But enough already. Everyone knows a steer can't be bred."
"So send those Big Macs off to the auction seller."

Well, we had a new guy working with us that day
He wandered out of town and came in to the ranch
The boss was short handed and the guy needed the pay
Bein' sorta desperate, I guess, the boss took the chance.

He said his name was Clyde and he'd had some experience
Yeah, but with what, was our biggest question
'Cause whatever it was, it certainly was mysterious
Nothing even hinted at a cow-man suggestion.

Take a guess who was at the holding pen
Who was sendin' beeves on down the line?
The dude, that was destroying our cowboy zen
Clyde, the dude from town, with no knowledge of a bovine.

He was workin' on those unmarked steers
And seeing no mark, he figured they hadn't been checked
So he sent 'em on through again and again it appears,
Not knowing that a steer cannot get pregnant.

So now here we are, stuck with a town dude on wages
And he don't know a thing about the business
More surprised than not that the boss didn't just consult the yellow pages
If it hadn't been for his attitude we could've offered some forgiveness.

Shorty conjured up the idea of givin' him a more suitable chore
So we gave him the title of "Gatekeeper of the Chute"
Told him, "just keep openin' and closin' the door."
Let 'em in, let 'em out and at the end of the day collect your loot.

Now having a dude tenderfoot on the crew
Is about as dangerous as swimming with sharks
It's better to be two hands short than try to make do
With someone who can only gum up the works.

Well, the boss should've known better
But we all learned the lesson well that day
If you hire a dude from town, also hire a qualified bonesetter
Or just politely tell the feller to go away.

Clyde was standin' next to the bull squeeze
When a two thousand pounder we called "Crusher"
Dipped his head down and skewered Clyde in the knees
Creating a spewing, arcing, main vein gusher.

Being pretty darn far from town, the vet sprang into action
Clyde never batted an eye but just kept walking around
With the first aid kit and some junk from the truck, we rigged up his leg in traction,
Wrapped up the wound and hauled him into town.

The E.R. doc looked him over, assessing our medical sophistication
Then calmly expressed, "What'd you bring him to me for"'
"You've done everything I'd do," he said without procrastination.
He looked at Clyde and said, "See me in a week but meantime stay off the dance floor.

Little did we know that Clyde was the local dance floor king
The doc had seen him place first in competition
So it seems he was quite good at something
He'd seen the Urban Cowboy film and thought that's all there was to the definition.

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LEFTY

Lefty is what we called him

But, no, he roped with his right

A cowboy's name is not always befittin'

Sometimes it's just the opposite

Shorty was a guy almost too tall

And Sparky was afraid of lightning

Some names don't necessarily tell it all

And some are downright enlightening

Lefty was a puncher who only wore one spur

And, yes, you guessed, he wore it on the left

When you understand why, I think you might concur

Whenever he wore two he said, "I feel overdressed."

Now most cowboys buy spurs in sets of twos

And they're made opposite of each other

A left and right make a pair just like shoes

Lefty always kept one and gave his brother the other

To get a good pair, a cowboy needs to set some pay aside

They're usually hand-crafted and unique

They're a workin' tool, worn with pride

Just a little something to compliment his physique

Now the rowels will give a nice ching

Jingle bobs or clangers hung from the shaft

Will give an added melodic ring

Whenever a cowboy ambles past

Some will even tune those chimers

To sing out in perfect harmony

In the key of A or D or even in the minors

It's Footwear 101 at the cowboy university

Sure enough though, as the world turns over,

A buckaroo will lose a spur and be left with only one

Whenever that happened, Lefty was in the clover

He said, "I can usually get that spur for next to none."

"But," you ask, "what good is one without the other?"

"Well," said Lefty, "I'll tell you and I hope it don't sound hollow"

"I used to wear two but one will do without much bother"

"Generally, I've found, if I get one side of the horse to go, the other will always follow"

...

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THE COWBOY SIX-GUN RULE

I asked my dear old granddad a question when I was about half grown
I said, "why did the old west cowboys always take their guns to town?"
"Was it because they expected trouble and thought they might get into a fray?"
"Naw, that's movie stuff," Grandad said, "it seldom happened that way."

"Although it's true, most men wore guns as a way of protection"
"But most of the time you could avoid trouble with a little bit of deflection"
"Most guns were used to pound in thumb tacks on dance posters, handbills and stuff."
"Although" he said, "every once-in-awhile a dude would come in looking pretty rough"

Then I said, "Granddad, did the cowboys really kiss the girl and ride away?"
"That's the way it was," said he, "and if you like, I'll tell you why, per se."
"Things back then weren't like they are right now, you must know."
"It was quite a different world back before I was grown."

"We didn't have a lot of things you take for granted, like instant communication."
"And there was no nine-one-one to call if you had an altercation."
"In those days, men and women respected each other."
"And one would never try to shame tother."

"It seems more people had common sense back then."
"It was a time when women were ladies and men were men."
"But for every good deed done there is always someone trying to stir the pot."
"You had to be careful or someone would come along and take all you got."

"So cowboys had one rule they never violated."
"In order that they never would become annihilated."
"The rule was very simple and it was the same for each"
"It's called the Cowboy Six-Gun rule and it's more than just a figure of speech."

"Why did the cowboy always take his gun and always kiss the girl, you say?"
"Follow this rule your whole life, son, and you'll never go astray."
"This, you should always remember," he said with grit.
"It's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."

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THE TEACHER IS THE STUDENT

I wasn't a very good horse trainer
But I became better when I learned to speak equine
And stop insisting that my friend was a no-brainer
Simply because he didn't understand my mind

I became a much better dog coach
When I learned what's important to them
Instead of trying to force my approach
I always get more when I reward rather than condemn.

Just who is teaching who is the question
Dismissing my own stubbornness was only prudent
It was much easier to make this confession
Once I learned which one was the student

There's a reward you get from the look in his eyes
When a horse accomplishes a certain task
When a dog instinctively knows what's on your mind
And performs the maneuver before you ask.

There's love and affection and a bond of trust,
Respect and admiration between you and the trainee
Patience, timing, reinforcement and nothing rushed
The rewarding joy when the two of you agree.

© 2024 Brian McNeal

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THERE I AM

Everywhere I go, I turn around and there I am
I tried not turning around
But that's the same as sticking your head in the sand

For good or not, you cannot get away
Whatever you do or do not
Is always going to be here to stay

Apologies and forgiveness may come ‘round
But the facts of the acts remain
Memories last a long time. Make them sound

Thinking before speaking or behaving
Is never a bad idea
It may be your own salvation you're saving

Kind words, encouragement and support
Easy to do and always free
And may just be the only way you don't fall short

© 2024 Brian McNeal

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WHERE IS THERE?

It was my first time going out to the new place

The ranch real estate agent rode along to show me where

When we got to the gate she directed me to the space

She said, "just go on over there."

I looked at the one hundred acres of partially cleared oak and ash trees

And said, "there's a lot of 'there' all around,"

Just where, exactly, would you like me to be?"

"See over there by that tree," she pointed, "the one sticking up out of the ground."

It was a large field with hundreds of trees, all standing tall

"That little one over there is where you should be"

Just which one was it that she wanted me to eyeball?

I looked and didn't see one but I saw three.

I could tell I wasn't going to get far this way

I had a sixty six percent chance of being wrong

Communication skills were not her forté

For some reason we were both singing a different song.

Directionally challenged people I've encountered before

But this was the first time for this vagueness

I wasn't sure if her elevator went past the first floor

I wasn't sure how long I could take this

I felt like I was on a TV game show with doors one, two and three

Just which tree was it that she was indicating?

So I aimed for the middle hoping not to get the third degree

For the soon-to-be inaccuracy of my speculating.

"No, not this one," she said, "That one over there"

Now, at least, my odds of being wrong were getting better

A fifty-fifty chance for less despair

But I wouldn't put money on it even if I was a bettor.

"Over there - where?" I said, aiming for the general direction

She pointed toward a stand of about twenty or so tall ash

I still couldn't identify the one that was the object of her projection

Then, like a bolt of lightnng, suddenly I had a flash

"Are we close enough", I said, "to get out and walk"

I put the pickup in park and looked hopeful

"Sure," she said, "it'll give us more time to talk."

Talk wasn't what I wanted, I'd already heard a mouthful.

We walked about five minutes, with her leading the way

The area looked exactly like every other corner of the place

Trees everywhere - enough for a loggers' field day.

The opinion I had formed of her was a certified nutcase

So what did I gain from this agonizing escapade?

I'm guessin' it was a lesson in how to hear the chorus,

How to stay calm while being utterly dismayed

When you just can't see the tree for the forest.

...

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TAKE YOUR SPURS OFF

A gentleman always tips his hat to the ladies
A cowboy always takes his spurs off in the house
The bunkhouse is different like the Mississippi is different from the Euphrates
But you always follow the rule of the Rancher's spouse

No smoking in the main house, unless invited
Polish your language or curb your tongue in her presence
Honor that rule and keep the rancher's wife excited
When tempted to slip, excercise extreme forbearance

At all times remember who the real ranch boss is
When it comes to manners, a daily spit shine is required
Being too nosey isn't wise, so mind your own biz
Pay attention to all these little details and avoid being fired.

© 2025 Brian McNeal

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LEAVE YOUR HAT ON

Manners dictate a cowboy should remove his hat indoors
Etiquete says use the hat check service for what it's for
But when "do more with less" is installed at the establishment
An unemployed hat check girl is more than a disappointment

Stashing it on the empty dinner chair next to you makes it a rich target for spilled soup
In which case, you might as well have left it at home in the chicken coop
Never hide it under the chair on the floor amongst the gravel and the boulders
Grandad always said, "The best hat rack in the world sits between your shoulders"

© 2025 Brian McNeal

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