|Any similarity to a real poet is
purely coincidental.The Last American Cowboy
By Tom Bob
August 2, 1991
In my minds eye I can see it all real plain,
CACTUS ATE THE GROUNDS
This isn’t poetry but we hope you enjoy it.
A CHUCK WAGON COOKS PHONE
CONVERSATION WITH GOD
BY TOM ELLIOTT
Hello………this is him……..this is who?…… Hey ya’ll be quiet…….Who is it?…You ain’t gonna believe this, its God! Yes lord I’m really surprised to hear from you, could I ask why you’re calling? …. My language with the Mules yesterday……..Lord I promise you can’t hurt a Mules feelings…..well, yes there were women and children there……. Yes lord, next time he kicks me I’ll pray for him…… Is that all you wanted?…….Oh, you want us to cook for you? Lord that would be a real privilege, what is it you’d like us to cook?………Fish and bread………ok, when did you want us to be there?……..tonight!…….How many people would we be cooking for?……….a multitude……….Lord I can’t have that much fish and bread by tonight………..you’ll take care of it…….What do I charge? Oh, I wouldn’t charge you anything Lord it’ll be free……..but, well, there is one thing, could I ask a couple of small favors?……..knowing me you knew it’d be something……..well lord everytime we cook against that BS wagon from Brownfield, TX. They beat us. And I think they cheat cause one time I saw a guy who looked just like Emeril Lagasse hiding in their wagon. What I was hoping is that the next time we cook against them you could fix it so we win?……..You will!!…that’ll be great………you say it’ll be the best fish and bread anybody ever ate………….what’s my other favor?…….well lord my wife’s been on all kinds of diets but she just can’t seem to lose weight. Would you have a good diet you could recommend?……….you do?…….what’s it called?………..the John the Baptist diet……….what does she eat?………..locust and honey…………I bet that’ll work!………Is that all lord?………….why wasn’t I at church Sunday?……..well I’m sorry but I just didn’t hear the alarm go off…………you say I wasn’t home yet when it went off ………you’re right Lord, I’ll do better, I promise. See you tonight, by.
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| The Tenderfoot and Nasty ****
“Well, lookey here !” Bob said with glee
“We’ve got a tenderfoot !
He’s got this brand new gear , you see
He don’t know where to put “
“He says he comes from way Back East
Teach him a thing or two
Let’s put him on that unbroke beast
And see what he can do”
The hoss they gave him don’t look mean
Though Nasty was his name
He did seem sometimes really keen
On makin’ riders lame
It seemed so like an awful match
New guy on this terror
This plot somehow just didn’t hatch
We all judged in error
The greenhorn climbed upon that hoss
A move as slick as rain
He spurred to show him who was boss
And let him have the rein
Now Nasty gave him all he had
He bucked and whirled and screamed
The rider smiled, said “This ain’t bad !
It’s nothin’ like I dreamed.”
That hoss gave up, plum’ tuckered out
The rider just stepped down.
Bob said “The East you lied about!
You’ve rode before this town !”
The new guy said, “Not in the least.
This here’s New Mexico.
The whole of Texas lies Back East
I do believe it’s so !”
They called him tenderfoot no more
He made a real smart hand
He came from Texas that’s for shore
And that ole boy’s got sand
This poem was sent to us by our good friend,
| Cowboy Poetry
by Bill Jones
Jake, the rancher, went one day
to fix a distant fence.
The wind was cold and gusty
and the clouds rolled gray and dense.
As he pounded the last staples in
When he finally reached his pickup,
So Jake did what most of us
As he turned the key for the last time,
Now Jake had been around in life
Of all the saints in Heaven,
So they set and talked a minute or two,
“I’ve always heard,” Jake said to Pete,
“Does God answer prayers of some,
“Or does he randomly reply,
“Now I ain’t trying to act smart,
Peter listened very patiently
“That day your truck, it wouldn’t start,
“A thousand angels rushed,
“And though all prayers are answered,
BETTER KEEP IN TOUCH!
BUYING A BRA
by Bill Hirschi
I ain’t much for shopping,
But the day came when I had to go
Without thinkin’ I said “Sure,”
Well, when I done the things I needed,
I crossed the street to the ladies shop
I walked up to the sales clerk –
From behind I heard some snickers,
“What kind would you be looking for?”
She gives me a disgusted look,
She took me down this alley
They had all these different styles
They had bras you wear for eighteen hours
They had bras that made you feel
Well, I finally make my mind up –
But then she asked me for the size.
“Six and seven eighths, well sir,
I thought that she’d go into shock,
“That’s what I used to measure with,
By now a crowd had gathered
When she finally had it figured,
My wife heard the whole story
She was still a-laughin’
An Old Man’s Thunder
by Larry Bradfield
Union County Georgia
I stopped at a roadside bar with a big neon Lone Star
And looked for seat in the crowd.
I saw a grizzled old gent who looked like his days were spent.
He sat alone at a table looking proud.
I said “Pardon me ,sir, this place is a blur,
Do you mind if I pull up a chair?”
He said “Join me , friend, an elbow we’ll bend
And talk about things we may share.”
I judged him four score, but he could have been more
And he’d cowboyed all over the West.
His face was like leather from the sun and the weather
And there was a poets heart under that vest.
Just as he was telling of a time that stood out in his mind,
A huge cowboy walked in through the door.
He was broad shouldered and lean, looked kinda mean
And was looking for a table on the floor.
When he spotted our place he put a smirk on his face
And dragged up a chair and sat down.
He said.”As you can see, this place belongs to me.
Go sit someplace else in this town!”
Well, the old man broke a grin while he scratched at his chin
Just like he’d seen this movie before.
He just sort of rose and broke the cowboy’s nose
With a left that came up from the floor.
Then he hit him with a bottle that was going full throttle
And left him sprawled out under the table.
He kinda sat with a sigh and wondered just why
Folks would take on more than they were able.
Well I left there that night with a different insight
On just what might be true of Old Men.
Look beyond what is pale and seems ever so frail
And ask yourself just where that old man has been !
I was born and raised in the Eastern New Mexico / Western Texas oil fields.
We lived in an oil camp that was prt of a large ranch in West Texas.
My dad was involved in extracting the oil from the ranches around the area.
Although we were oil folks, the area culture was decidedly Texas ranching.
Although I’ve lived in many states since my school days, my roots remain in West Texas.