Tag Archives: Childhood

REED BETWEEN THE LIONS

Audio Recordings, Cowboy Poetry, Nostalgia, Relationships / tagged , , / / by

REED BETWEEN THE LIONS

My mother’s will was always
stronger than my won’t

My father’s won’t was always
stronger than my will

Caretaker soft or Cowboy strong

How quick I learned to change my face
to face the faces that I faced

And’

I can still spin that mirror now so you
can see the face you want to see

But neither you nor I will know
which one is me

BLUE EYED BOY

Audio Recordings, Cowboy Poetry / tagged , , , / / by

BLUE EYED BOY

Blue eyed boy
blasts off from breakfast like a quail on a rail

Collie dog leaps on board
and they’re off across the prairie
barely touching the tops of hills

Sun gives warmth or cloud gives shade
all depending on his whim
birds and rocks and swaying grass
everything living embraces him

Burrs don’t stick and thorns don’t prick
even fences joining in the play
happily turning their barbs away

Floating along on the wings of four
not long now till they slam that door

BIG BOYS

Audio Recordings, Personal Growth / tagged , , , , / / by

BIG BOYS

The deep sadness
The red anger space
The hang on tight we
Might end up in the next county passion

All hidden behind the great wall of control
That terrible land where I locked
the little boy who could cry

And if I open the door to one of these
will they come bursting out
And with what years
of build up force behind them

I know big boys don’t cry
I don’t remember why
would they die

SWEARING OFF

Audio Recordings, Cowboy Poetry / tagged , , / / by

SWEARING OFF

The story was told by my old friend Bill
about a time when he was four
well maybe a little less, maybe a little more

Seems he’d been rubbin’ up against some boys in town
and learned some language that made his momma frown

His folks tried about everything from soap on down
but the lessons they were pouring in just wouldn’t stay down

Finally they said, now Billy my boy
the decision we’re makin’ gives us no joy

Because generally we like you , and you’re pretty good
with your chores
but there’s no room on this ranch for language like yours

So, though it’s sure to make us grieve
we’ve packed your bag, and you’ll have to leave

They peeked through the curtains as he walked down the lane
with Dad remindin’ Mom that some lessons have pain

Billy stood at the road for 20 minutes or more
then slowly trudged back and knocked on the door

They slipped from the window and opened it slow
he said
“where in the hell am I supposed to go?”

THE COPENHAGEN KID

Cowboy Poetry / tagged , , , / / by

THE COPENHAGEN KID

I didn’t kill a b’ar when I was only three
but I did start to chew before I was two

They say Copenhagen cowboys have a tendency to lie a bit
usually it’s how young they started and how far they can spit

Now I ain’t got many silver buckles to brag about
but this is for sure and without a doubt
I’ve got the record when it comes to snuff
for the earliest, and shortest, addiction to the stuff

Now my memory’s a little foggy but the legend’s quite clear
that somewhere between my first and second year
My daddy leaned over the crib to kiss me goodnight
with the can in his pocket not sittin’ too tight

It seems from the beginning that I sure liked the stuff
and, in no time at all, ate that whole box of snuff
Legend doesn’t tell my exact shades of green
but I hear there were some that had never been seen

Though out behind barns and sometimes in bars
I’ve tried cigarettes and pipes and a few good cigars
Still when folks pull out that old round can of thar’s
all my colour comes back and they think I’m from Mars