The Lazy Barn

The Lazy Barn ~~~LAST UPDATE: August 9th~~~COWBOY POETRY FROM THE LAZY BARN*WELCOME PARD*STAY AWHILE AND COME BACK AGAIN*ADIOS***BARNEY

[IMAGE]

I s'pose you're fond of Cowboy poetry or you would not have wrangled on in. Tip your hat back, sit a spell, and read some of my poems. I sure hope you like them as much as I enjoyed writing them. Let me know what you think; below is a direct link. Gracias Pard...Barney(BACROPER@aol.com)

bacroper@aol.com <-- Write me and critique

If you'd like to know about the author or the Lazy Barn click here:

Jake

The canteen was refreshin’, each swig at a time
For me and old Jake, plumb tuckered from the climb.
Now we hiked up this here mountain, just to see what we could see
The beeves were a’grazin’, and we had no place else to be.

So I sat myself down, with the makings of a smoke
And asked my pard Jake, if he’d like to hear a good joke?
I reckon he wasn’t listening, so again I prodded
At first he shook his head, but then finally he nodded.

Heard some news last week, ‘bout our friend in west Texas
Word was lately he’d been down, from missin’ all his exes.
I decided that I’d let him know, in a brief letter
That we’d both be prayin’ for his aim to get better.

Now it would be a shame, if he had to do some time
‘Cause he was just not the type, to ever commit a crime.
It’s true though that cowboy, didn’t take kindly to rejection
But I’m sure the gals, were just targets of his affection.

Now I forget, old Jake doesn’t share my sharp wit
You see he never, ever laughs a single bit.
But the real joke, this time, was on me of course
‘Cause Jake’s not only my best friend, he’s also my best horse.....

[IMAGE]

Poet "Lariat" of LaGrange

His skin looked like the leather
On the saddle that he owned,
Tooled and tanned by weather
‘Neath the handlebar that he’d grown.
No one knew from where he came
‘Cept off some Arizona range,
He soon was known by the name
(Of) Poet Lariat of LaGrange.

Once rode hard by life’s coping
And put up wet by changin’ times,
When there was no more need for roping
He then rounded up in rhymes.
He would versify for hours on end
For applause and pocket change,
Words would flow just like the wind
(From) Poet Lariat of LaGrange.

Never did I hear him curse
His hard life spent a’saddle,
He’d tell the tales in his verse
Thus Poet in his handle.
But why the Lariat you prod
What caused a name so strange,
I s’pose the title is quite odd
(This) Poet Lariat of LaGrange.

Well as for the Lariat part
It’s ‘cause he could rope the wind,
He loved to twirl that handlebar
And tie one on ev’ry now and then.
Why the way that he could spin a yarn
Was what caused his life to change,
Folks would come from near and far
(To hear) Poet Lariat of LaGrange.

I guess that in reality
He had no rhyme or reason,
He just recited poetry
Because he found it pleasin’.
Why that cowboy could tie your hopes
To dreams that he’d arrange,
‘Course it helped to know the ropes
(Like) Poet Lariat of LaGrange.

Poker Pete

Poker Pete, hailed from Mesquite
And earned ev’ryone’s respect.
Took his pay, worked hard each day
Not a chore would he neglect.
Big and tall, built like a wall
That huge Texan was a man.
Break a horse, and rope of course
Old Pete was quite a hand.

Each payday, he led the way
Into town to play straight poker.
Five card draw, taught by his ma
And wouldn’t play with jokers.
One such night, we’d had a bite
And way too damn much whiskey.
Me an Hank, we pulled a prank
And on Pete that could be risky.

On a lark, when it got dark
And Pete was at the table.
We of course, took Pete’s Dun horse
And hid it in the stable.
For a smoke, and damn near broke
Pete pitched a bad hand down.
Walked outside, and nearly died
His prize Dun was not around.

Back through the door, he crossed the floor
Old Pete then drew his gun.
Said deal me in, two hands I’ll win
‘Fore I shoot who stole my Dun.
Pete won one, took up his gun
Said this happened once before.
Listen men, I’ll do again
If I have to just once more.

Me and Hank, began to thank
We had best get that horse back here.
We crept out, without a doubt
We’d been filled plumb full of fear.
Back outside, and safely tied
Pete’s horse was where he’d left it.
Pete won two, said now I’ll do
What I did back home in Texas.

On his feet, straight to the street
Old Pete was loaded for bear.
Through the doors, he saw his horse
Old Pete just stopped right there.
Dealer asked, back in the past
Did you shoot one or more?
Pete said no, and whispered low
I just “walked on home before.”

[IMAGE]

This Old Saddle

It’s girth wasn’t worth a plugged nickle
And cleanin’ it was gonna be a battle,
It had already lost one stirrup
But Lord I still bought that old saddle.

Now it sat on a rack in the tackroom
The cinch buckle often would rattle,
I never paid it much attention
But there was something about that old saddle.

A year’s been here since I bought it
And one day after tendin’ cattle
I pulled down that old piece of leather
And dusted off that old saddle.

Suprise filled my eyes when I saw it
My brand, right there on the cantle,
Now how in the hell did it get there
Especially on this junky old saddle?

My thoughts took a walk to my childhood
To a picture up on Granny’s mantle,
It seems my grandfather Coker
Placed first and won this timeless old saddle.

Then the land called his hand and he sold it
Those hands that often would paddle,
It helped him stave off the banker
And now I have back this wonderful old saddle.

[IMAGE]

Ground Chuck

Jasper could ride anything that would buck
But gosh he did have a string of bad luck.
Like when he and that old brammer’ bull got stuck
Darn he had a run of bad luck.
Or when he bought that one owner truck
But gosh he did have a string of bad luck.
Seems it smelled of old stall muck
Darn he had a run of bad luck.
Or the punch he dodged and should have thought duck
Gosh he had a string of bad luck.
But he loves his life trailin’ ground chuck
So Jasper’s a man with plenty good luck.

[IMAGE]

The Old App Mare

She was a fine old mare, she was
That is if you know app mares the way a cowpoke does.
Long and lean and built for the ride
Though strong and mean with a fire inside.
Red and white and bad to the bone
The type of mount any cowpoke would sure be proud to own.

She was an easy keeper, she was
Hay, grain, and an apple now and then just because.
Long in the tooth with tendon bowed
Though strong in the hoof, still young’un rode.
Red and white and bad to the bone
The type of mount any cowpoke would sure be proud to own.

She was laid to rest today, she was
‘Neath the old oak tree, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Long were the years my saddle she wore
Now strong are the fears ‘cause she won’t no more.
Red and white and bad to the bone
The kind of mount this cowpoke was sure proud to own.

[IMAGE]

What is a Real Cowboy?

Many, many times I get the questions
In my travels across this great land
Just what exactly is a real cowboy
And does he ever become a cowman?

Very seldom have I ever answered
The same way more than a time or two
‘Cause to me a real cowboy
Means something different to me and to you.

To you he rides the bucking bulls
And autographs your program pages
To me he rides a well kept mount
And earns his daily wages.

Now don’t take me wrong in this matter
I’m a big fan of the rodeo
But you asked me about a real cowboy
And he will just not put on a show.

To you he wears a ten gallon hat
And shoots up the silver screen
To me he wears a well-worn Stetson
And prays the grass stays green.

Now don’t get me wrong in this matter
I’m a big fan of old John Wayne
But you asked me about a real cowboy
And he’d rather watch a good summer’s rain.

Now as for the part about the cowman
It’s easy to set the record straight
The boy is always part of the man
And that’s what makes the man so great.

[IMAGE]

Bandana

A Stranger tied, his horse outside
And strolled up to the bar
Names bandana, from Montana
And Lord I’ve ridden far.

I need a drink, no let me think
Let’s just make it twenty
Old sawbones said, i’d soon be dead
So these should do me plenty.

The whiskey poured, and we kept score
The cowboy downed ‘em quick
“Well I’ll be whipped”, the barkeep quipped
Fast drinkin’s why you’re sick.

But those twenty shots, will cost you lots
A month wages nearly
That surly keep,said “drinks ain’t cheap”
They will cost you dearly.

The stranger smiled, and thought awhile
And gave barkeep the eye
“There’s been a bunch, of cows i’ve punched
But no barkeep have i tried.”

Now just calm down, i joke around
But lord you drink real fast
Well you would to, if it were you
Who had what i now have.

Well now dear God, I have to prod
The barkeep was convinced
There is no pill, to cure my ill
The stranger had, just fifty cents!!

[IMAGE]

You’ll Ride Again Another Day

You’re sittin’ up there thinkin’ ‘bout your markout
Just you and the bronc there in the chutes,
Your hand is wrapped tightly ‘round the riggin’
You’re sweatin’ all the way down to your boots.
You hear your name called by the announcer
You’ve got your sights on that winner’s pay,
But then your dreams come crashin’ down around you
But you’ll ride again another day.

You say you’re gonna stop
But you keep goin’
Fully realizin’, you’ll soon have hell to pay.
You say you’re never gonna stop
If the wind keeps blowin’
So you’ll ride again another day.

Last night you rode Nightmare in Durango
And took second place for all your pain,
But then you drank ev’ry cent of winnings
And passed out cold in the pourin’ rain.
Your life revolves around your pick-up truck
And ladies you leave along the way,
Seven hundred miles to go by mornin’
Just so’s you can ride again another day.

You know you’re not gettin’ any younger
But then again you’re still not too damn old,
This dyin’ ain’t much way to make a livin’
But once again you head on down the road.
You’ve busted up both arms and a leg once
What hair is left has turned to a light gray,
But that’s the price you pay to play a cowboy
When you’ve got to ride again another day.

You say you’re gonna stop
But you keep goin’
Fully realizin’ you’ll soon have hell to pay.
You say you’re never gonna stop
If the wind keeps blowin’
So you’ll ride again another day.

Then one day soon when you least expect it
You’ll make it to your final short go-round,
That eight second ride will take forever
And you’ll know it long before you hit the ground.
This rodeo life has finally beat you
Some sweet darlin’ will make you stay,
But at least that new truck will be a Bronco
Just so you can ride again another day.

[IMAGE]

Ropin' The Dream

You’re sittin’ “strait” and tall in the saddle
Just you, and Old Boo, backed in the box.
Your partner wants a good head to handle
You wait, for the gate, to come unlocked.
Each go-round you’re prayin’ for a little luck
And hope, that your ropes, work as a team.
Spendin’ half your life in pick-up trucks
Life’s rough, when you’re just, ropin’ a dream.

Ropin’ a dream, ropin’ a dream
It’s when the cowboy in you grows
But into what who the hell knows
No matter what it’s never what it seems.....
Ropin’ a dream, ropin’ a dream.

You travel up and down the interstates
Your horse, is of course, your closest friend.
Your winnings are much less than you must pay
For the life, that your wife, hopes soon will end.
Then you get that one fantastic ride
You grin, ‘cause the win, was so supreme.
It seems at last lady luck is on your side
But life’s still rough, when you’re just, ropin’ a dream.

[IMAGE]

Cowpoked

Handlebar moustache
Little to no cash
Don’t call him cow trash
Or your face he’ll smash.

Lives the code of the West
Always gives his best
Searchin’ for the quest
To hell with the rest.

Works from his saddle
Tendin’ to cattle
Seldom will rattle
Least without a battle.

A gut full of sand
An excellent hand
Who rides for the brand
And respects the land.

Rides a steel, gray mare
Always gets him there
No worse for the wear
They’re both quite a pair.

Some say he’s insane
Been known to raise cain
Likes a summer’s rain
Always hides his pain.

‘Cept when he’s heartbroke
Likes his womenfolk
Rather chew than smoke
Likes a good, clean joke.

Likes bacon and beans
Loves rodeo queens
In them wrangler jeans
Does say what he means.

He’s one of a kind
That’s been left behind
Gettin’ hard to find
But ages like wine.

Contributions vast
A large shadow cast
His best days have passed
His memories will last.

[IMAGE]

From time to time other poets stop by the Lazy Barn. They'll seldom leave a good horse, but they will leave their poems; click here for sample. Also check out these great links to other western sites:

[IMAGE]

This Cowboys-n-Cowgirls site is owned by

The Lazy Barn.

Click to join Cowboys-n-Cowgirls ring !

Skip Prev Prev Next Skip Next Random Next 5 List Sites

This Rodeo Ring site is owned by

The Lazy Barn.

Want to join the The Rodeo Ring?

[Skip Prev] [Prev] [Next
] [Skip Next] [Random] [Next 5] [List Sites]