COWBOY RHYMES: POEMS ABOUT POEMS

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A COWBOY'S STAGE FRIGHT

I wrote this poem and I know it by heart

But here now, standing in front of you, I don't know where to start

I feel a bit sheepish, I'll admit it

I practiced and practiced but now I forget it.

Will my poem meet with your approval

Or will I get the shepherd's hook removal

Is it this microphone or perhaps your laughter?

I don't feel so good right now but I will about an hour after

I feel like my horse when he's off his oats

I knew this would happen so I brought my notes

I hope you don't mind if I read the lines

Just to keep the meter and not miss the rhymes.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A WORD ABOUT APPLAUSE

One thing you never want to do at one of these congregates
Is to use up every bit of the applause
If you want to know the reason, well, it's because
There is only so much to go around, like aces and eights

If you use too much applause too soon, you might find it rationed
Just as your favorite poet comes up to the stage
Then you'd leave that poor soul without a gauge
Which could cause Cowboy Poetry to become unimpassioned

Now, just in case you lose control and go whole hog
We've arranged to import more applause in a surplus haul
It's for sale, in the lobby, right next to the beer wall
So stock up while you can. Here endeth this Cowboy Poetry Prologue

. . .

And now a word about photography
Please take all the pictures you want
But don't take them all. Leave some for others if you please
Here endeth this lesson in Cowboy photo detente

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

ANATOMY OF A COWBOY POEM

What's a cowboy poem supposed to be about?

Some will say it has to mention the hat,

Or be about cowboy chores day in and day out.

Some say anything is fair game as long as the writer is a verbal acrobat.

All the poems about ropes and spurs,

And horses and herds have all been done

Even the ones not about his but rather hers,

Have found their way into the run

Stories are about the life, although it's...

True, the tellers are not always male gender.

But we don't call them cow-person poets.

Thank goodness we never got on that bender.

Just when you think they've all been written.

When there's no more 'bout cowboys that can be said.

Along comes one that lands on it's feet like a kitten.

Written by a cowboy's wife, good 'nuff to stop ya dead.

And then there's those written by the feed store guy,

Who never cowboy'd a day in his life.

But he has a perspective that'll make you buy,

Dust in a dry spell as a gift for your wife.

As if she needs or would want more dust,

On a ranch, where it comes free of course.

But she'll take it in stride, free of disgust,

'Cause she's well acquainted with the source.

Stories 'bout cowboy's stories, told at the store,

When there ain't no one else but them.

Could be a windy or the truth and they'd both sound like candor,

While the laughter rolls out the cracks like mayhem.

Or them that are written by the boot and saddle man.

Who knows 'bout cowboys 'cause he's done just enough,

To know what works well and what goes in the can.

And how to make cowboy trappings outta the right stuff.

No it don't take a cowboy to write 'em down.

It takes a writer to make 'em stick and hold.

Whether he be a puncher, a preacher or a rodeo clown,

Don't matter what he did before, 'long as the story is well told.

And it makes no difference what the story is about

Cowboys are not that one-dimensional

Galoots or galluses, cell phones, dog bones or draught

Cowboys are a heap more than conventional.

So write your poem, tell your story.

Make it good and make 'em laugh.

Or make 'em cry with your sad oratory.

Just be sure to say a word or two on the cowboy's behalf.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

COWBOY POTTERY

I went to one of these Cowboy POETRY events

Attending as a guest, certainly not as a poet

There were a lot of mighty fancy pots and some not worth two cents

I felt like I was in the wrong place, and didn't know it

I was the only waddie in the place with boots and hat

All the others looked like tourists on vacation

I heard no one reciting rhymes but saw plenty of clay commissariat

And I was really longing for a Gail Gardner quotation

How did I get myself into a place like this?

I felt like a fish outta water for certain

Something somewhere was surely amiss

Mud, everywhere but no stage and no curtain

Finally I found another bewildered looking chap

With hat and boots and disappointment on his face

He'd gotten there earlier and discovered the trap

It was just a simple matter of being in the wrong place

He took me outside and pointed to the marque

Yup, I'd seen it, but didn't let it register in my head

The noble letter hanger was certainly no cowboy marquis

Poetry was misspelled. Cowboy POTERY is what it said

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

COWBOY RHYMERS TOP TEN COUNTDOWN

About cowboy poetry, I was asked who was most famous

Now, I didn't think the guy was an ignoramous

But to ask such a question as that seemed to be asinine

Ask any ten cowboys and all will agree except nine.

The "most well known" is only one measuring stick

The best, the favorite, all depend upon your own bailiwick

Even with this Letterman-list of my own top ten

Some may not be now but they was back then.

Honorable mention goes to Montana's C.M.

Who's certainly well known but not for poem

An artist and sculptor who could tell a story in rhyme

He was a genuine triple threat in his time.

We used to just call him Badger before

Now he's known by three names 'cause he don't have four

He comes in at number ten but not the last

You may not know him 'cause he's from the past.

Slim Rost is next on my list at number nine

He's a Tucson musician with a cowboy banjo joke in rhyme

Number eight is Capt. Jack Crawford

A poet scout with Gen. Crook when Apache peace was proffered.

John Nelson, a packer guide from Gunnison is number seven

I'll never eat one of his oranges but his poetry is heaven

Gary McMahan knows how to pronounce cowboy leggins so he's on the list at six

He can thank the late Dick Spencer for putting him in that fix.

Breaking into the top five is a guy named Waddie

There ain't a poem of his anyone could call shoddy

Number four goes to Bruce Kiskaddon

He was writin' 'em down before any of this happened.

Wally McRae is in the third slot from the top

Reincarnation is what happens after you drop

Gail Gardner, who beat the devil, is number two

He was first, they say, in the cowboy poetry que

But the most famous and most well known

Is a large animal veterinarian no one could clone

Like Will Rogers, Edward R. Murrow, Paul Harvey and that herd

Radio made Baxter Black's name a household word.

Baxter Black (1945–2022)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

RULES FOR COWBOY POETRY

The rules I try to use

When writing a verse

Keep it simple with a rimple

Avoid the abstruse

Talk about a cowboy

Or his tools, jobs, or pranks

Young or old, I'll have gold

If it's something you can enjoy

Tell a good story

Make it truth or fiction

Give it personality avoiding banality

Make it sad, funny or gory

It don't have to rhyme

But where's the fun if it don't

No need to hurry and make it blurry

Just take a little more time

Make sure the plot can exist

It's not always easy

Stitching words together like pieces of leather

Just end the story with a twist

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

ABOUT YOU WAH-HOO

"Write what you know," the sayings go
From those who chose the same road
Live it and give it in verse or song
Journal your days in ways that are strong
Dramatize or fictionalize the event
Embelish to relish each and every segment

Inventories of stories waiting to see light
Stories that excite or fright or delight
Documentaries of memories with a rhyme
To be read or said or even sung at the right time
The mystery of your history revealed for all
The best and the rest of all you can recall

I've been a Cowman and a Plowman,
A Horse Trainer, Barn Tamer and Entertainer.
I've been a Tack Mender, Elbow Bender,
A Range Rider and an Outsider.
A Jack-Of-All feller and a Storyteller.
If you like one or two - Wah Hoo!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

WHEN A COWBOY READS SHAKESPEARE

"All the world's a stage," a man once wrote
"So I robbed it," said another many years later
All the actors on it merely coped
Some were givers and some were takers

The warning came in rhyme to save time
The highwayman shouted with a pistol shot
"Hide not a trinket or a treasure to keep your life"
"As you like it then," said the bard with a barb red hot

The rounder on top was a suspicious bloke
The banker inside, with the pretty young wife,
Had a hidden compartment inside his cloak
To save his jewels he gave his life

The bullet pierced the banker's heart and soul
In an instant, he learned, all that glitters is not gold
His young bride left alone by the smoke of a pistol
Left alone with her empty life and his empty billfold

He took all there was from his new young bride
She'll be a very lonely widow now and forevermore
Every day she'll pay the price for his stubborn pride
Grief and sorrow will be hers by the score

To be or not to be without his possessions
A flashing thought as he stepped down from the barouche
Forgeting the better part of valor is discretion.
He'd been far better off to keep them hidden in the coach

Desperate times breed desperate measures for a woman alone
Her husband's fortune, if not his life, saved in the moonlight
Poverty and loneliness she could postpone
The highwayman and the widow rode off into the night

© 2024 Brian McNeal

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Pages

POEMS ABOUT POEMS

POEMS BY TITLE

A

B

C

D

E

F

G

H

I

J

K

L

M

N

O

P

Q

R

S

T

U

V

W

X

Y

Z

COWBOY RHYMES

Contact Form