En.Citatepedia^®.ro

4. Well Rattled

The cowboys all dug a large pit
Around which some boulders did fit
Then piled up the wood which lit
To keep the cold out where they sit

One went to fetch some more wood
His trail boss said he thought he should
A nice dry pile that looked real good
Where snakes liked hide if they could

The wind got up spooking the cattle
It hid the slight sound of a rattle
From wood came the snake to do battle
And all the cowhand did was prattle

Vexed the snake started to slide
The cowhands fear he could'nt hide
He stood there with legs open wide
And now the poor cowboy can't ride

poem by David Threadgold (2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Ever Was a Snake

If I was a snake, my eyes would be green,
I would wander the land and look real mean.
If I was a snake, I'd know how to sting,
Despite all the trouble it would bring.

If I was a snake, I'd be red and gold,
I would slither and slather and eat my mice cold.
If I was a snake, I'd rattle my tail,
But I'd be polite and never go to jail.

If I was a snake, I'd slide on my tummy,
Hamsters and mice would be real yummy.
If I was a snake, I'd live on the ground,
Sleeping and snoring 'till I was found.

I would never learn how to rake,
If I ever was a snake.

poem by October Bradley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Through The Wood

THROUGH the wood, the green wood, the wet wood, the light wood,
Love and I went maying a thousand lives ago;
Shafts of golden sunlight had made a golden bright wood
In my heart reflected, because I loved you so.

Through the wood, the chill wood, the brown wood, the bare wood,
I alone went lonely no later than last year,
What had thinned the branches, and wrecked my dear and fair wood,
Killed the pale wild roses and left the rose-thorns sere?

Through the wood, the dead wood, the sad wood, the lone wood,
Winds of winter shiver through lichens old and grey,
You ride past forgetting the wood that was our own wood
All our own--and withered as ever a flower of May.

poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ride Cowboy Ride

Up in the morning at the break of day
You'll hear a big bearded cowboy at the chuck wagon say
"Gather 'round boys, the coffee's hot on the fire
There's a full day of branding, we're heating the iron
I want to smell that scorched hair and burning hide
The horses have grain boys, they're ready to ride
Roll up your bed rolls and jump in your boots
Daylight is a-wastin', boys, it's out of the shoots"
Come on and ride, cowboy, ride
Roll up your riatas and pull your sombreros down tight
We're going to ride, ride, ride where the trail will wind
You'd better drive, drive, drive or we'll leave you behind
Come on and ride, ride, ride, cowboy, ride
It's a beautiful morning and you've had a good rest
You ropers get ready to be at your best
Saddle them ponies and tighten the cinch (Yahoo!)
Pull on your gloves and take your hat off the fence
We'll take the cattle to market, and after they're sold
You can all let your hair down, get lazy or bold
Riding to town to find a lady or two
She'll take you by the arms and shake the dust off your boots
Come on and ride, cowboy, ride
Roll up your riatas and pull your sombreros down tight
We're going to ride, ride, ride where the trail will wind
You'd better drive, drive, drive or we'll leave you behind
Come on and ride, ride, ride, cowboy, ride
Come on and ride, cowboy, ride
Roll up your riatas and pull your sombreros down tight
We're going to ride, ride, ride where the trail will wind
You'd better drive, drive, drive or we'll leave you behind
Come on and ride, ride, ride, cowboy, ride

song performed by by Nickel Creek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cause of Enmity between Snake and Man

Snake, the first owner of fire.
Dog, the robber of fire.
Man the last owner of fire.
The snake gave birth first to fire.
Thus fire, the first born of snake.
Thus snake, only owner of fire long ago.
One cold evening
The man dying of coldness
The dog seen it master dying of coldness
It went to snake house and begged
The snake, the mother of fire to let
It tail get warm of fire
The snake cordially welcomed the dog
The dog twisted it tail on fire
The tail caught the fire
The dog jumped over the snake in door
Ran quickly to it master, the man
The man took the grass and wood
And lit up the fire
The fire lit up in man’s house
And it extinguished in snake’s house
The snake come to get fire back
But the man attack the snake
The hostility between man and snake
Began then

poem by David Aoloch Bion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Snake Man

Slither and Slide
Along the ground they Glide
Looking for somewhere to Hide
And this is Worldwide

So in every little Hole
It's not always a Mole
So you have to have Control
Thats why we have the 'Snake Patrol'

It's the Snake Man
In his little Minivan
He'll russel them Out
We should not Stick About

The snakes were all Caught
And then they were Brought
Far far away
To Live another day

poem by David Darbyshire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Old Chisholm Trail

Well, come along boys and listen to my tale
I'll tell you all my troubles on the ol' Chisholm Trail
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea.
I started up the trail October twenty-third
Started up the trail with the U-2 herd
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea.
On a ten dollar horse and a forty dollar saddle
Started out punchin' them long horn cattle
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea.
With my seat in the saddle and my hand on the horn
I'm the best dang cowboy that was ever born
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea.
It's cloudy in the west and lookin' like rain
And my danged old slicker's in the wagon again
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea.
The wind began to blow and the rain began to fall
And it looked like we were gonna lose 'em all
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea.
No chaps, no slickers and it's pouring rain
I swear I'll never night herd again
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea.
I cripple on my horse and I don't know how
Roping these long horn U-2 cows
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea.
Well, I went to the boss to draw my roll
And the boss had me fugured nine dollars in the hole
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea.
Well, me and the boss we had a little spat
So I hit him in the face with my ten gallon hat
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea.
The boss said to me, ''Well, I'll fire you
Not only you but the whole darn crew.''
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea.
I'll sell my horse, I'll sell my saddle
And you can drive all your long horn cattle
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea.
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea, youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy, youpy yea...

song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cowboy

The Cowboy

In Texas they love football and cowboys, not your ordinary
cowboys mind, the ones who herd the cattle to slaughter,
but those who walk tall in local towns and own an oil well
or two. Real cowboys are usually black or Mexicans, low
paid and smell of cattle and dust; and when the cows are
delivered to the abattoir drink lone star beer, chew tobacco
and get arrested. Real cowboys dress in fancy costumes look
a bit effeminate, when drunk on whisky ride an artificial bull
and fall off to great applause from adoring female fans who
think those ridiculous pseudo heroes are for real.
In Texas they call it Americana, have a governor who gladly
condemn people to death, western tradition- hang them high-.
When Illusion overtakes overtake truths mainly because veracity
is boring, after all a cowboy is a cattle herder and reality lacks
the romance of a pearly studded dud.

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bluebell Wood

Children tiptoe through the bluebell wood
making no sound as they go.
It seems like only yesterday
we saw our children play
the games we used to do.
Now we smile at our grandchildren
playing hide and seek
in the same bluebell wood
where we did play.
Our hair maybe silver and white,
but we are still young at heart
and want to join them
tiptoeing through the bluebell wood.

19 March 2011

poem by David Harris
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Sea-Saw (more writing fun)

If I saw a wood boat afloat
Upon the sea,
Would what I see possibly be
The wood I cut from a tree?

For when I saw a tree
I would like to think I see,
What the wood I saw
Could be.

If all I saw in wood from a tree
Was all I saw that there was to see,
Would what I did saw
Be the wood that I now see?

And if the wood I once did saw
Was indeed made into that ship on the sea,
Would it even be possible to know that here what I see
Is the wood once sawed by me?

All I here would dare to share is:
I see what I saw, and I saw what I see,
And therefore the wood I do saw could one day be
The boat I may see, afloat upon the sea.

See?

poem by Smoky Hoss
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Christmas For Cowboys

Tall in the saddle, we spend christmas day, driving the cattle on the snow
Covered-plains.
All of the good gifts given today, ours is the sky and the wide open range.
Back in the city they have different ways, football and eggnog and christmas
Parades.
Ill take the blanket, Ill take the reins, christmas for cowboys and wide-open
Plains.
A campfire for warmth as we stop for the night, the stars overhead are
Christmas tree lights.
The wind sings a hymn as we bow down to pray, christmas for cowboys and
Wide-open plains.
Tall in the saddle we spend christmas day, driving the cattle on the
Snow-covered plains.
So many gifts have been opened today, ours is the sky and the wide open range.
Its christmas for cowboys and wide open plains.

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True Friends? ? ?

the snake slithers around
sneaky not to make a sound
slowly creeps upon his prey
attacks then runs away

beware of him he bites
and does it within his rights
he might be pretty to look at
but truly he's ugly lot

the snake will smother
even kill his own mother

snakes are full of greed
upon your soul he will feed
the snake is a self-adoring creature
humility is not a feature

snakes are everywhere
so beware.......

poem by Ultimate Cyan
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Knock On Wood

I dont want to lose the good thing that Ive got
If I do, I will surely, I will lose a lot
For your love is better than any love other Ive know
Its like thunder, lightning
The way you love me is frightening
I better knock on wood
Baby
I got superstitious about you, but I cant take change
You got me spinning, baby, spinning in a trance
But your love is better than any other love Ive known
Its like thunder, lightning
The way you love me is frightening
You better knock on wood
Its no secret, but that woman fills my lovin cup
She sees, so ready, that I get enough
And her love is better than any other love Ive known
Its like thunder
Its like lightning
The way you love me is frightening
I better knock on wood
Baby
Better, yes, better
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) yes, I better
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) oh, knock on wood
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) you know I would, would
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) its no secret
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) no, oh, better
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) hangin above me
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) I cant leave her
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) oh no, baby
Knock on wood, woo!

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Antivenom

time to milk lab rattle snake
the rattle snake rattles in warning
the rattle snake rattles to get attention
the rattle snake strikes in defence
the rattle snake strikes in aggression

sinking fangs deep into violation flesh
sinking fangs deep into intruder careless
sinking fangs deep into territory threats
sinking fangs deep into trespass violators

antivenom is made for warnings disregarded
antivenom is made for human trespassers
antivenom saves pilgrim innocent lives
antivenom is turn elixir of injected life

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Wood of Flowers

I went to the Wood of Flowers
(No one was with me):
I was there alone for hours.
I was happy as could be
In the Wood of Flowers.

There was grass on the ground,
There were buds on the tree,
And the wind had a sound
Of such gaiety,
That I was as happy
As happy could be,
In the Wood of Flowers.

poem by James Stephens
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SnAkE oN mY bAcK

snake on the ground slithers. The plains scream out in fear, it slides onto my back and forces out my red tears. into my thought i can now see how foolishly i used to be. I remember the snake on my back and how i remember i should have fought back. The trees dance in scilence the fire now devoures the plains, the snake told me to forget my name. I threw the snake off my back with no sound forcefully it lay dead by the ground. Now i can feel the snake beneath my feet.

poem by Ben Sparaco
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Cowboy

Cold gray buildings where a hill should be
Steel and concrete closin in on me
City faces haunt the places
I used to roam
Cowboy, cowboy - cant run, cant hide
Too late to fight now - too tired to try
Wind that once blew free
Now scatters dust to the sky
Cowboy, cowboy - cant run, cant hide
Too late to fight now - too tired to try

song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nothing To Worry About!

I don't fear nothing at all,
but when nothing becomes something
and it growls with sparkling pointed white teeth,
i shake in my shoes and
my legs quake beneath;
and i run and i hide and think darkly inside
and remember (as much as i can) ,
I don't fear nothing at all; and,
nothing becomes something
and that something is tall,
and it casts a great shadow
that blocks out the light,
('cause i'm small) .
Then i run in the shadows
and tremble with fright.
until i remember
(as best as i might)
It's nothing i'm fearing
(nothing, that's all!):
but it's dark in the shadows
with ropes that can bind,
and i can't clearly see
what it is that I find.
I think it's a poisonous snake
that can hiss
until finally i get that snake
out of my head,
and wake up to find there is nothing (to fear) ,
I am alone and there really is not
something else here.

poem by David Taylor
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Snake Eye

You paint a picture
So its plain to see
Aint no hiding
No security
Ill be watching
Every move you make
When you hear the rattle
Better be awake
Chorus:
Snake eyes, Im watching
Snake eyes, look out
Snake eyes, its coming
Snake eyes, aint no escaping from the snake eye
(no way)
You leave a footprint
For my eye to see
Catch an echo
From a lock and key
From the shadow
Or behind a rock
Get you anywhere
From the darkest shack
Chorus
Hear a rustle
From behind a tree
Get you running
Home to sanctuary
Bolt the door and -
You think youre safe
Im coming to get you
Gonna reach out (? ? ? )
Chorus
Got the snake eyes, they call me a snake in the bush
Snake eyes, biting
Snake eyes, always watching
Snake eyes
Aint no escaping from the -
Just keep a lookout for the -
Snake eye

song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Driftwood

Drift wood

Is this just 'fun' for you?
Coasting on the ride.
It's been deep here with me.
Now I'm  washed up in the tide.

Crashing over rocks.
Could you not just hold my hand.
And carry me beyond.
To fall on softer sand?

I was struggling for air.
Whilst you washed over me.
I thought that I could swim.
But It's unfamiliar sea.

I'm craving for the mainland.
But an island's what I get.
Where my poor mind is stranded.
As it won't let me forget.

Would you send me the drift wood.
That you stowed a ride upon.
And want the tide to take us.
To a place where we'd belong.

Could we stay there a while?
Im not asking forever.
As I understand my  rescue.
Doesn't end with us together.

poem by Stevie Taite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Are There Any More Real Cowboys

Are there any more real cowboys
Left out in these hills?
Will the fire hit the iron
One more time?
And will one more dusty pick-up
Coming rolling down the road
With a load of feed before the sun gets high?
Well, I hope that working cowboy never dies.
Not the one thats snortin cocaine
When the honky-tonks all closed
But the one that prays for more rain
Heaven knows
That the good feed brings the money
And the money buys the clothes
Not the diamond sequins shining on tv
But the kind the working cowboy really needs.
Are there any more country families
Still working hand in hand
Trying hard to stay together
And make a stand?
While the rows and rows of houses
Come creepin up on the land
Where the cattle graze and an old grey barn still stands
Are there any more real cowboys in this land?
Are there any more real cowboys in this land?

song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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