~Goodnight Trails Reflection~
By Abigail Geary
Hush now dogies..
'been a while since the sun went down..
s' all right...coyotes all down for the night..
I got my bedroll..right 'side my Arbuckle...
long trail..bogged cattle...stars a singing along the prairie..
saw my calico in my dreams...
lookin' right pretty waitin' in Dodge..
At the end of this Goodnight Trail...
thru the Canyon..we'll make it...
spurr yourselfs awake little dogies..
time to get a long just right...
find the cool waters...drink your fill...
under the hot free sun...
Hundred dollars worth of air...
hundred dollars worth of loneliness..
But we'll make it all right...
No russlin' for me...my shooting iron
doesn't need the practice...got it all right here..
Shhhh little dogies..
That's about enough...
dawns about breakin'
And I'm still here to see this prairie sunrise...
In my poem/reflection I tried to use variations of slang, from 'dogies'-cows
'shooting iron'-gun
'bedroll'-pallet to sleep on
'arbuckle'-coffee
'bogged cattle'-cattle stuck in mud
'dodge'-Dodge City
'Goodnight Trail'- A trail that lead from Palo Duro Canyon to Dodge City, Kansas.
The cowboy in my poem is self reflective, about the trail, the stars, and the woman he cares about, he's positive, but realistic about getting through the journey, to make the money. Though he realizes that the experience and the freedom is really a fortune in itself. I think my cowboy would be the one that would have a poetry book stuffed in his bag, and spend half the night staring at the stars wondering his own thoughts. My poem seeks to portray cowboys as something as their own invention, something that when the sun falls, and the bandana's hit the dust, who these men really are.
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Don't Mess with a Squatter that has Horns
Darell Johnson
There once was a buckaroo named Jiggaro Joe.
His face was like leather, and his hands were like rock.
He had a big fifty, and he could draw his iron (reference to "shooting iron") quickern' you can spit and holler howdy.
He could follow a woodtick on a solid rock.
He could get the drop on any John Law south of the panhandle.
Yep, this Jiggaro Joe was the roughest toughest cowboy there ever was.
Jiggaro Joe wasn't afraid of anything.
He'd just as soon win with a dead man's hand as cash in 'is six shooter with a John Law standin' outside the door.
He'd run his longhorns along the Goodnight-Loving trail in half the time anyone else took.
He'd drive them dogies, an' he'd rustle 'em.
It didn't matter to him, long as he got his pay, he didn't care if he was a crook.
He had a hundred posses after 'im
An' he ran 'em half way around Texas, an' all the while they'd be followin' their own tracks.
One day old Jiggaro Joe found a squatter on the range.
Now Joe, he'd had a bit too much red-eye .
He said "This 'ere land is my land, an' there ain't no squatter goin' to say otherwise."
He drew 'is colt, an' he was going to shoot the poor soul.
Jiggaro took his six-shooter an' drew a bead,
He pulled the hammer an' yanked the trigger.
Joe said to himself, "there now, ain't no squatter goin' ta turn my range into a homestead."
Well, the smoke cleared, and the bullet found its course, but not in the target that Joe had in mind.
Why big Jiggaro Joe, the toughest, meanest, fastest cowboy in Texas;
Had shot himself in the foot.
He missed his target an' shot his own big toe off.
On losing his big toe, what Joe said ain't fit for anybody's ears.
He was mad as a peeled rattler, and he commenced a kickin', an' a hittin', an' a screamin' at the poor soul.
Well, Jiggaro Joe finished a pitchin' his fit.
The poor soul then stood up and went to chasin' poor Jiggaro Joe.
Jiggaro Joe was found three days later hidin' behind a prickly pear bush with holes poked all through his chaps.
Now, I promise this is what Joe said when he got back to town.
He said, "I won't never again try to run a squatter with horns off of my land."
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Lauren Sykes
Sittin' round after the day's work is done
Waitin' again for the next day's run.
You know that the cow town's just a few days more,
And you pray that it don't decide to pour.
On a cold day the red-eye will warm ya right to the middle,
And then you wait for 'em to strike up the fiddle.
But you'd better have your horse put to hobble,
Cause the next time you would it could be a wobble.
As you grab your war-bag and bedroll for the night,
You head for a spot and curl up real tight.
Takin' off your Justin's you already start to dream
Of warm beds and calicos: how real it all seems.
Off into the bliss of sleep
As you pray the Lord your soul to keep,
You try not to think of the work tomorrow will bring
And then drift to sleep listening to the dogies sing.
You feel some rain splash on your face,
Then shake your head as you realize the place.
You were never asleep: you never went to bed!
"Daydreaming," you mutter as you shake your head.
"I need some Arbuckle's," you say as you head for camp.
"But oh how I wish it wasn't so damp."
So ends the watch of a wrangler,
Other than heading off a few stranglers.
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The End of The Trail
Sara Stanley
I?m sittin? here thinkin?
?Bout the day that?s just passed.
I?m wonderin? if this cattle drive
Might be my last.
I?m old and I?m tired
Nearly "gone over the range."
I?m hopin? and prayin? tomorrow
Will bring change.
I have my horse Thunder
Who?s been my best friend.
I think he too is ready
For this drive to end.
It seems these days
I?m just "barkin? at a knot,"
Herdin? cattle and buyin? "redeye,"
With what little money I got.
This life that I?ve led
It ain?t been all bad.
There?s many a good thing
That has made my heart glad.
The sun when it sets,
The stars above shinin? so bright.
The warmth of a campfire
On a cold desert night.
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Cowboy POEM: A Cowboy's Love
Johnny LaLonde
It had been a long hard ride on the ol' Chisholm.
My chaps were torn and dusty,
My spirit lay worn and rusty.
I was sittin in a saloon in that ol' cowtown
When I looked up from my chuck o'er across the groun'.
She caught my eye like a Nevada Sunset
There she stood looking mighty fine and dandy,
She appeared to me to be quite handy.
I thought to myself of what a graceful creature God had created,
Her long brown hair waving in the wind.
As I headed toward that beauty across the street,
I wondered if she would ever take to this ol' deadbeat.
As we talked, I saw her stubborn side,
But then thought about the Chisholm ride.
And how wonderful it would be
If she were to accompany me.
So, I strode inside that longhorn diner
And bought myself a horse that could be no finer.
Then off we went, that lady and I.
I knew she was mine from the moment she caught my eye. |
