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Below are track descriptions, an introduction to the CD, and additional references for the poems included in The BAR-D Roundup (2006).

The BAR-D Roundup (2006) is a compilation of contemporary recordings of some of today's best classic and contemporary cowboy poetry.  It includes Texas Poet Laureate Red Steagall's "Born to this Land"; Buck Ramsey’s first recording of "Anthem"; “What’s Become of the Punchers?” by Jack Thorp, America’s first collector of cowboy music and poetry, recited by Mark L. Gardner; "The Greatest Sport," by the well-loved octogenarian poet and working cowboy, Cowgirl Hall of Fame inductee Georgie Sicking; "What Would Martha Do?," by Yvonne Hollenbeck, named "the most popular cowboy poem of 2005"; treasures from two masters, lost recently, and too soon: "Johnny Clare," by Larry McWhorter and "Change on the Range," by Sunny Hancock, recited by Chris Isaacs; and many other selections from contemporary poets reciting their own works and the classics.

Read more about the The BAR-D Roundup (2006) on the previous page, here.  

On the previous page:

About The BAR-D Roundup (2006)

Order Information


About The BAR-D Roundup (2006) and Cowboy Poetry Week (2006)

About the cover art, "Heading Home," by Joelle Smith

How to submit a poem for consideration for future compilations 

Support CowboyPoetry.com





Introduction

Cowboy poetry has been telling the stories of cowboying and ranching life for over a century. It's a vibrant folk form, shared among the people of the working West and those interested in that life and its heritage.

The BAR-D Roundup represents some of the best examples of cowboy poetry's oral tradition, from its earliest days through today. The past is often present in the contemporary poems: in tribute, in contemplation, and in the poets' firm roots. The specter of the future sometimes comes into view, where "progress" is an ever-increasing threat to ranching life. Throughout, there is characteristic humor, philosophy, and a strong attachment to a proud way of life.

The BAR-D Roundup opens with Jack Thorp's "What's Become of the Punchers?," a poem first published in 1920, more than a quarter century after the end of the great trail drives that spawned the American cowboy profession. It is a lament, a "last of the breed" story, a theme that endures in cowboy poetry tens of decades later. Thorp was America's first collector of cowboy music and poetry. He traveled among working cowboys, and a little book he first published in 1908 grew to be a standard reference for cowboy poetry and song. "What's Become of the Punchers" is recited by Mark L. Gardner, a musician, historian and writer who recently researched and edited a landmark volume, Jack Thorp's Song of the Cowboys
(The Press at the Palace of the Governors, Museum of New Mexico, 2005). The track is from the book's accompanying CD that includes performances of the poems and songs by Gardner and Rex Rideout, with music played in the style of the period, on instruments from Thorp's time.

Texas Poet Laureate Red Steagall's "Born to This Land" follows, a heartfelt anthem with a dignity grown from generations of hard work and unwavering principle. Words from working ranch hands come next. DW Groethe is a proud representative of the "last of the breed," a Montana cowhand who introduces listeners to his charges with his humorous poem, engagingly performed, "Yearlin' Heifers." A. Kathy Moss acknowledges the working women of the West, in "The Truth," a tribute to her friend and fellow ranch hand Billie Flick.  Dennis Gaines, who long drew wages as a cowboy, contributes his zany flight of fancy, "The Spandex Cowboy," where his acrobatic wordsmithing rivals the spectacles at Colonel Potter's Big Top Tent and Wrestling Rodeo, the poem's colorful setting.

The auction and the banker are ever-present parts of ranching life. Ranch-raised Jane Morton tells of her mother's dangerous greeting at the auction, in "Yoo-Hoo." Pat Richardson, who has lived and worked around cattle all his life, takes a wry look at reality in "Cowboy Banker." When the banker is at South Dakota rancher Yvonne Hollenbeck's door, she wonders "What Would Martha Do?," in one of today's most popular poems on the cowboy poetry gathering circuit.

From north of the Medicine Line, top poet Doris Daley introduces the visiting Pierre to ranch delicacies, in "French Fries," with her trademark humor and panache.  Packer and cowboy Chris Isaacs recites "Change on the Range," a comic commentary by his good friend, a widely respected cowboy, the late Sunny Hancock.  Beloved poet Colen Sweeten, born on an Idaho ranch over 85 years ago, gives his perspective on "wrecks," in "Cow on the Fight."

British Columbia rancher Mike Puhallo looks back to a historic day, witnessed by cowboys from a remote camp, in "Man in the Moon."  Working ranch hand and horsewoman Virginia Bennett speaks to her roots in a stirring piece, "Dad Was Like a Colt."  Working cowboy Georgie Sicking captures the lure of "mustanging" in "The Greatest Sport."  The track is from an award-winning documentary about the tough and admirable 80-plus-year-old Cowgirl Hall of Fame inductee, "Ridin' & Rhymin'" (Far Away Films, 2005).

The late Larry McWhorter's eloquent piece about an Oklahoma cowboy, "Johnny Clare," is informed by his own long cowboying experience. He mesmerizes the listener with his artful telling and lyrical verse, "In north central Oklahoma, in the land known  as the Osage, the spring and early summer rest so easy on the eye. Where the lush, green, rolling carpet marks the passing of Mariah, as she dances, sometimes gently with the clouds which dot the sky..."

Mick Vernon's own music backs up a pensive poem that came from a day gathering cattle, "Picayune Valley."  Also wistful, Linda Kirkpatrick looks back to the days on the Texas ranch where she grew up, a time when she was too young to make a hand, but not too young to want to, in her poem, "When Roundup Time Comes 'Round."

Oklahoma rancher Jay Snider, who says he's always thought he was "born a hundred years too late, as do most cowboys," leads listeners into a vivid past with "300 Miles to Go."  Andy Hedges recites a classic poem about those times, Henry Herbert Knibbs' humorous "Boomer Johnson," about a surly camp cook who gets his comeuppance from a fed-up cowboy.  Rod Nichols' "Yep" is a timeless portrait of cowboys. Cowboy Trey Allen recites another master's classic poetry, the thoughtful poem, "Alone," by Bruce Kiskaddon, also timeless in its theme.

Buck Ramsey, a National Endowment for the Arts Fellow, known as "the spiritual leader of cowboy poetry," left an important legacy when he died in 1998. Hal Cannon, founding director of the Western Folklife Center, home of the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, has commented that "His work 'Anthem' is probably thought of as the finest contemporary piece of writing in this tradition..."  The "Anthem" recording on The BAR-D Roundup is the first recording ever made of the poem. The track is from a CD that accompanies the book, Buck Ramsey's Grass, with essays on his life and work (Texas Tech University Press, 2005). "Anthem" is the prologue to the book-length poem, Grass, which follows the life and experiences of Billy Deaver, who leaves the farm at 15 to pursue a cowboy's life. Poet Joel Nelson describes the poem, "From the leaving of home and kin, through the stirrings of adolescence, to the making of a hand in a tribe of men who 'the gods had chosen well,' there is nothing a cowboy could ever want to say that Buck hasn't covered in Grass."

Reciter Dick Morton's reverent delivery of Charles Badger Clark Jr.'s "A Cowboy's Prayer," backed by the music of Rex Rideout, leads into the last part of The BAR-D Roundup. The poem is familiar to many, "Oh Lord, I've never lived where churches grow..." Clark was a South Dakota native and he became that state's poet laureate. As a young man, he spent time in the southwest, and his cow-tending experiences there informed much of his poetry. Dee Strickland Johnson ("Buckshot Dot") likewise celebrates "the designer of nature" in her graceful poem, "The End of the Day."

But ranchers don't ride off into a Technicolor sunset. Fifth-generation rancher Deanna Dickinson McCall addresses the precarious state of ranching in her poem, "Endangered."  As The BAR-D Roundup comes to end, there is no question about who will tell the stories of the working West. Andy Nelson's poem, "The Cowboy Poet," holds that answer.

                                                                                                                                 Margo Metegrano, April 2006


Track Descriptions

 

  1.  Mark Gardner,  "What's Become of the Punchers?" (Jack Thorp)  
  2.  Red Steagall
,  "Born to This Land"  
  3.  DW Groethe,  "Yearlin' Heifers—Part 1"  
  4.  A. K. Moss
,  "The Truth" 
  5. 
Dennis Gaines, "The Spandex Cowboy"

  6.  Jane Morton,  "Yoo-hoo" 
  7.  Pat Richardson,  "Cowboy Banker" 
  8.  Yvonne Hollenbeck
,  "What Would Martha Do?" 
  9.  Doris Daley,  "French Fries"
10.  Chris Isaacs,  "Change on the Range" (Sunny Hancock)   

11.  Colen Sweeten,  "Cow on the Fight"   
12.  Mike Puhallo
,  "Man in the Moon"
13.  Virginia Bennett
,  "Dad Was Like a Colt"   
14.  Georgie Sicking
,  "The Greatest Sport"   
15.  Larry McWhorter
,  "Johnny Clare"

16.  Mick Vernon,  "Picayune Valley"
17.  Linda Kirkpatrick,  "When Roundup Time Comes 'Round"  
 
18.  Jay Snider,  "300 Miles to Go"   
19.  Andy Hedges
,  "Boomer Johnson" (Henry Herbert Knibbs)  
20.  Rod Nichols
,  "Yep"  

21.  Trey Allen,  "Alone"  (Bruce Kiskaddon)  
22.  Buck Ramsey
,  "Anthem"  
 
23.  Dick Morton
,  "A Cowboy's Prayer" (Badger Clark)   
24.  Dee Strickland Johnson - Buckshot Dot,  "The End of the Day"   
25.  Deanna Dickinson McCall,  "Endangered"   

26.  Andy Nelson,  "Cowboy Poet"
27.  Jim Thompson,
  Center for Western and Cowboy Poetry radio public service announcement

Poems and permissions were generously donated by poets, musicians, families, publishers, and filmmakers.

Most biographical information was supplied by poets and reciters


Track 1:  Mark Gardner,  "What's Become of the Punchers?" by Jack Thorp 

 

Below:

About the track, "What's Become of the Punchers?"
About the poet, Jack Thorp
About the reciter, Mark L. Gardner
About the music
The poem, "What's Become of the Punchers"
About the poem
Additional links 

About the track, "What's Become of the Punchers?"

"What's Become of the Punchers?," a poem by Jack Thorp and recited by Mark L. Gardner, is from Jack Thorp's Songs of the Cowboys (The Press at the Palace of the Governors, Museum of New Mexico, 2005), a book edited by Mark L. Gardner, with an accompanying CD with performances of Thorp's poems and songs by Mark L. Gardner and Rex Rideout.

Permission for inclusion of this track was kindly granted by The Press at the Palace of the Governors, Museum of New Mexico. 


About the poet, Jack Thorp


"Jack" Thorp (N. Howard Thorp, 1867-1940) collected cowboy songs and poems across the West for nearly 20 years, starting in the late 1800's. He first published them in 1908, in a small book called Songs of the Cowboys. Thorp also wrote poems and songs; "Little Joe the Wrangler" is  perhaps the most well known.  There have been several editions of Songs of the Cowboys. Read more in our feature about Jack Thorp's Songs of the Cowboys here.

 

    

[photo of Jack Thorp, c. 1930, courtesy John and Joyce Stauffer from Jack Thorp's Songs of the Cowboys, used with permission]


About the reciter, Mark L. Gardner


 

 


Mark Gardner and Rex Rideout, photo by Steve Butler

Mark L. Gardner is a professional historian, author, and musician with a broad range of publications—both popular and scholarly—focusing on the American West. He has published numerous books with several university presses and has authored six interpretive guides for National Park Service historic sites, including Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument, Washita Battlefield National Historic Site, Fort Union National Monument, and Bent’s Old Fort National Historic Site. Most recently, he has written two biographies of Western figures for the NPS: George Armstrong Custer: A Biography (2005) and Geronimo: A Biography (2006). As a public historian, Mark has served as a consultant for many history-related projects, from documentary films to museum exhibitions.  He has worked as a consultant with PBS Television, National Geographic Magazine, the National Park Service, and a number of museums and historic sites across the West.

In addition to his historical research and writing, Mark studies and performs the popular music of the 19th and early 20th-century West.  He uses only vintage or reproduction musical instruments and authentic lyrics and melodies. Mark has entertained and educated audiences with his period music at numerous venues, from the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, Missouri, to the Palace of the Governors in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Mark's first CD, Songs of the Santa Fe Trail and the Far West (Native Ground Music), received critical acclaim as an accurate portrayal of the music of the 19th-century American Southwest. It has been featured on the soundtracks of several television documentaries, most notably the PBS documentary "The U.S.-Mexican War, 1846-1848."  Mark’s second CD, Frontier Favorites: Old-Time Music of the Wild West, a collaborative effort with Rex Rideout, is featured on the soundtracks of two National Park Service visitor center films.

Mark’s musical instrument of choice is the open-back 5-string banjo, although he is also a master of the bones and jawbone!  Mark lives with his family in Cascade, Colorado.


About the music

Mark L. Gardner plays the banjo during the recitation of the poem. On the original recording, Rex Rideout joins in at the end on the fiddle. Rex Rideout, the proprietor of Time Travel Music, is a long-time student of the music and songs of the 19th-century American West.  Read more about him here in our feature about Jack Thorp's Songs of the Cowboys.


The poem

What's Become of the Punchers

What's become of the punchers
We rode with long ago?
The hundreds and hundreds of cowboys
We all of us used to know?

Sure, some were killed by lightning,
Some when the cattle run,
Others were killed by horses,
And some with the old six-gun.

Those that worked on the round-up,
Those of the branding-pen,
Those who went out on the long trail drive
And never returned again.

We know of some who have prospered,
We hear of some who are broke,
My old pardner made millions in Tampa,
While I've got my saddle in soak!

Sleeping and working together,
Eatin' old "Cussie's good chuck,"
Riding in all kinds of weather,
Playing in all kinds of luck;

Bragging about our top-hosses,
Each puncher ready to bet
His horse could outrun the boss's,
Or any old horse you could get!

Scott lies in Tularosa,
Elmer Price lies near Santa Fe,
While Randolph sits here by the fireside
With a "flat-face" on his knee.

'Gene Rhodes is among the high-brows,
A-writin' up the West,
But I know a lot of doin's
That he never has confessed!

He used to ride 'em keerless
In the good old days
When we both worked together
In the San Andres!

Building big loops we called "blockers,"
Spinning the rope in the air,
Never a cent in our pockets,
But what did a cow-puncher care?

I'm tired of riding this trail, boys,
Dead tired of riding alone

B'lieve I'll head old Button for Texas,
Toward my old Palo Pinto home!

by Jack Thorp from Songs of the Cowboys, 1921 and included in Jack Thorp's Songs of the Cowboys


About the poem

"What's Become of the Punchers?"  was first published in the August 1920 issue of Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  

"What's Become of the Punchers?" is also included in the 1928 book, The Turquoise Trail: An Anthology of New Mexico Poetry, compiled by Alice Corbin Henderson.  Henderson wrote the introduction to the 1921 edition of Jack Thorp's Songs of the Cowboys, which also includes "What's Become of the Punchers?"  She was instrumental in the founding of Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.

The "'Gene Rhodes" referred to in the poem was Thorp's old friend Eugene Manlove Rhodes (1869-1934), cowboy, Western writer and novelist.  Rhodes' is widely known for his poem, "Hired Man on Horseback."  His best knownand critically acclaimedshort story is "Paso Por Aqui," which was serialized in The Saturday Evening Post in 1926. Correspondence from Rhodes to Thorp is preserved in the Thorp Collection at the Huntington Library.

Thanks to Mark L. Gardner for much of the above information.


Additional links

Jack Thorp's Songs of the Cowboys feature at CowboyPoetry.com
More about Eugene Manlove Rhodes at CowboyPoetry.com

Mark L. Gardner's Songs of the West web site  
The Press at the Palace of the Governors, Museum of New Mexico 
Rex Rideout's Time Travel Music web site

Poetry Magazine


Track 2:  Red Steagall,  "Born to This Land"

 

BorntoRS.jpg (7685 bytes)

Below:

About the track, "Born to This Land"
About the poet, Red Steagall
The poem, "Born to This Land"
Additional links

About the track, "Born To This Land"

"Born to This Land" was recorded for The BAR-D Roundup. This poem is also included on Red Steagall's recording, Born to This Land, winner of the Western Heritage Wrangler Award from the National Cowboy and Western Museum. The poem is also included in his book, Born to This Land, winner of the Will Rogers Medallion Award and the Buck Ramsey Best Poetry Book Award from the Academy of Western Artists.

About the poet, Red Steagall

Red Steagall, photo used with permission

Red Steagall is the 2006 Texas State Poet Laureate.

His entertainment career has covered a period of 35 years and has spanned the globe. Over 200 of his compositions have been recorded, and he has recorded nearly 30 consecutive records on the national charts and released more than twenty albums.  He has published four books, and is a six-time winner of the Wrangler Award for original music from the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum in Oklahoma City.  His most recent Wrangler, awarded in 2006, is for his song with Rich O'Brien, "How Green Was The Grazin' Back Then," from his recent CD, The Wind, The Wire And The Rail.

Since 1991, he has hosted The Red Steagall Cowboy Gathering in the Stockyards National Historic District of Fort Worth, Texas. This  authentic western event, which draws thousands each year, features a ranch rodeo, chuck wagon cookoff, children's poetry contest, western swing dances, cowboy music and poetry, a trappings show, and horsemanship clinics.

Red Steagall's one-hour syndicated weekly radio show, Cowboy Corner, has aired for over a decade on nearly 200 stations. Cowboy Corner celebrates the lifestyle of the American West through the poems, songs and stories of the American cowboy. Past featured guests have included Reba McEntire, Charlie Daniels, Don Edwards, Waddie Mitchell, Baxter Black and the late Buck Ramsey, as well as ranching and agricultural notables.

In 1991, the Texas State Legislature named Red Steagall "The Official Cowboy Poet of  Texas." In recognition of his significant contribution to the Western way of life, he was inducted into the Texas Trail of Fame in October 1999, joining other inductees including Gene Autry, Charles Goodnight, Quanah Parker, and Roy Rogers.

In April of 2003, he was officially inducted into the Hall of Great Westerners at the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum in Oklahoma City.  This ultimate acknowledgement of Red Steagall's lifetime of commitment to the preservation of the western lifestyle is his most cherished honor.

This is an abbreviated version of Red Steagall's official biography. Read the entire biography here.

  BorntoRS.jpg (7685 bytes) 


The poem, "Born to This Land"

Born to This Land

I've kicked up the hidden mesquite roots and rocks
From the place where I spread out my bed.
I'm layin' here under a sky full of stars
With my hands folded up 'neath my head.

Tonight there's a terrible pain in my heart
Like a knife, it cuts jagged and deep.
This evening the windmiller brought me the word
That my granddaddy died in his sleep.

I saddled my gray horse and rode to a hill
Where when I was a youngster of nine,
My granddaddy said to me, "Son this is ours,
All of it, yours, your daddy's and mine.

Son, my daddy settled here after the war       
That new tank's where his house used to be.
He wanted to cowboy and live in the west
Came to Texas from east Tennessee.

The longhorns were wild as the deer in them breaks.
With a long rope he caught him a few.
With the money he made from trailin' em north,
Son, he proved up this homestead for you.

The railroad got closer, they built the first fence
Where the river runs through the east side.
When I was a button we built these corrals
Then that winter my granddaddy died.

My father took over and bought up more range
With good purebreds he improved our stock.
It seemed that the windmills grew out of the ground
Then the land got as hard as a rock.

Then during the dust bowl we barely hung on,
The north wind tried to blow us away.
It seemed that the Lord took a likin' to us
He kept turnin' up ways we could stay. 

My daddy grew older and gave me more rein,
We'd paid for most all of the land.
By the time he went on I was running more cows
And your daddy was my right hand man."

His eyes got real cloudy, took off in a trot,
And I watched as he rode out of sight.
Tho I was a child, I knew I was special
And I'm feelin' that same way tonight

Not many years later my daddy was killed
On a ship in the South China Sea.
For twenty odd years now we've made this ranch work
Just two cowboys, my granddad and me.

And now that he's gone, things are certain to change
And I reckon that's how it should be.
But five generations have called this ranch home
And I promise it won't end with me.

'Cause I've got a little one home in a crib
When he's old enough he'll understand,
From the top of that hill I'll show him his ranch
Cause like me, he was Born To This Land.

© 1989, Red Steagall, reprinted with permission
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.


Additional links

Red Steagall feature at CowboyPoetry.com
Red Steagall's Ranch Headquarters web site
The Red Steagall Cowboy Gathering and Western Swing Festival web site
Red Steagall's Cowboy Corner web site


Track 3:  DW Groethe, "Yearlin' HeifersPart 1"

Below:

About the track, "Yearlin' HeifersPart 1"
About the poet, DW Groethe
The poem, "Yearlin' HeifersPart 1"
About the poem
Additional links

About the track, "Yearlin' HeifersPart 1"

"Yearlin' HeifersPart 1" is from DW Groethe's CD, What Ever it Takes. It is also included in his book, West River Waltz.


About the poet, DW Groethe

DW Groethe, grandson of Norwegian pioneers and homesteaders, was raised on the Northern Great Plains by parents who instilled in him a deep appreciation for place and heritage. A University of North Dakota alumnus, he holds a fine arts degree in theatre.

Since 1991, Groethe has called Bainville, Montana (population 139) home. He doesn't own a television, reads with a voracious appetite and happily spends his days associating with cows.

He is also a poet and a songwriterand a rare one....He has appeared as an invited guest at the Western Folklife Center's National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, the Library of Congress and The Kennedy Center in Washington, D. C., and the National Folk Festival.

Above excerpted from the dust jacket of DW Groethe's 2006 book, "Western Poetry: West River Waltz." Read a more complete biography here.

DW Groethe's recordings include Tales from West River, and What Ever it Takes, and he has a book of collected poems and lyrics, Western Poetry: West River Waltz.

   

[Photo of DW Groethe by Jeri L. Dobrowski]


The poem, "Yearlin' HeifersPart 1"

Yearlin' Heifers—Part 1

How they love to go a neighborin'
and seek more scenic bits of range.
I think, perhaps, they've joined
some kind of herbivore exchange.
No matter—
Every clip had better be in place
and hangin' tight and true.
Best tap them staples exter good
so the girls ain't slippin' thru.

Their whole reason for existence,
till you get that yearlin' bull,
is to poke an' test and stretch your wire
an' patience to the full.
I beat 'em once to a saggin' line
before they made their break,
I know,  that sounds outrageous
but it's the truth for heaven's sake.
I was snuggin' up the wire
'bout to tie that little loop
When I gets this eerie feelin'
I just joined a bigger group.
So, I kinda ease my eyes around
to get a better glance
and what I see are strainin' necks and heads
all in a bovine trance.
Starin' like no tomorrow
their mouths a slowly chewin'
And I swear a listenin' close
I heard a voice say, "Whatcha doin'?"
"Hah,"  I cried "Get outa here!
Yer givin' me the willies!"
And "Poof!" recedin' heifer butts,
I'm feelin' pretty silly.
'Cause here I'm thinkin' "holy moly"
"Where've they got to now?"
There's nothin' worse on this whole earth
than tendin' future cows.
Houdini in his prime could never
disappear as swift
As a herd of yearlin' heifers
who decide it's time to drift.
Vacatin' pens you got 'em in
for places quite unknown
to themselves, or even heaven,
when they get that urge to roam.
I do not know exactly why
they're made that way, but lord,
I do know this, if you keep heifers,
you are never, ever bored.

© 2004,  DW Groethe, All rights reserved
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

About the poem

DW Groethe comments:

The Complete and Unabridged Story Behind the Writing of "Yearlin' HeifersPart 1" As Vaguely Remembered by the Author...Poemist DW Groethe

 

If you've ever been around yearlin's you'll know that the poem is true from one end to the other. The genesis of this little bit of verse is the part where I'm fixin' the fence and this "eerie feelin'..." I can show you the exact spot the whole scenario took place including the part where I said "Git outa here! Yer givin' me the willies!"  I didn't get around to jotting it down on paper for a couple of years after. I guess I was too busy doing something else. (Click here to get back to Pat Richardson).


photo by DW Groethe


photo by DW Groethe


Additional links

DW Groethe feature at CowboyPoetry.com
DW Groethe's appearance at The Kennedy Center, archived video broadcast

 


Track 4:  A. K. Moss, "The Truth"

Below:

About the track, "The Truth"
About the poet, A. K. Moss
The poem, "The Truth"
About the poem
Additional links

About the track, "The Truth"

"The Truth" is from A. K. Moss's CD, Dear Charlie.


About the author, A. K. Moss

Putting heart and soul in words of rhythm and rhyme, A. K. Moss is a noted performer around the Western states. Kathy's poetry has been published in North American Hunter, The Big Roundup, Cowgirl Poetry, and various other publications and she has published limited editions of cowboy poetry books, audio cassette and CDs. Kathy has contributed to Happy Trails and Cascade Horseman. She began performing her work in the summer of 1998, and has worked with many top performers through the years, including Baxter Black, Wyllie Gustafson, Joni Harms, and many others.

Kathy's, CD, Dear Charlie, was among the top ten poetry CD nominations in the Academy of Western Artists' Will Rogers Awards. Expanding her poetry to a new area of outdoor life, Kathy's CD, Of Elk and Men, brings to life the true values of the hunt and the thrill of elk up close. 

Her passion for Western history has brought her to study and write poems from the diaries of the Oregon Trail, which she has performed at the Oregon Tail Interpretive Center in Baker City. Her photographs, taken to preserve western lifestyles of today, were exhibited at the Western Folklife Center in Elko, Nevada in 2001. Not one to sit idle for any length of time, Kathy coordinates the Elkhorn Western Arts Gathering, a cowboy gathering held in Baker City Oregon each September, where over 20 cowboy poets and singers, along with craftsmen and artists, gather for a weekend to show off their wares and preserve our western heritage. 

She and Billie Flick present a "Women of the Range" seminar, filled with the trials of women working in the cowboy world, with music, video, and and pictures of some of the women they've worked with. Kathy and Billie received the Authentic Working Cowgirl, Red Sash award from the Western Heritage Association in Lewiston, Idaho, in 2005.

Making her home in Grant County Oregon with her husband Tracy of nineteen years, Kathy writes of the people around her that influence a way of living that other folks think is gone. When on on stage, starting a few colts, helping kids learn how to ride and handle horses, and helping friends work cattle and horses keep her busy. Her work continues to fuel her imagination with history, and stories that still need to be written.

 

[Photo of A. K. Moss by Kevin Martini-Fuller]


The poem, "The Truth"

The Truth

From a distance I watched their language, her hands had a lot to say,
Though calloused they softly spoke of her life in a subtle silent way.
How they molded her life into a treasure, how they survived the heat and cold,
How they helped her build her fires and at their prayers they gently fold.
A thousand times they've saddled horses, of the hundreds that she's had,
How they helped her laugh through all the crazy wrecks that she's had.
And that calvey cow pushing hard, how gentle yet firm they were.
The strength in her grip assured no slip as she helped a new baby stir.
And that rope in her hand it's natural, for she has swung it a time or two,
Not to catch every time it was thrown, but just to keep swinging till the job was through.
And the strokes they give her filly, to calm her troubled mind,
That guide, teach and calm her until confidence she'd find.
And after dark when we get home, her hands have more to do,
Making dinner and peeling apples to bake a pie or two,
And when all is quiet around the house and night has settled in,
Her hands are busy one more time with horse hair hitching again.
And easy rhythm to settle their day, for they have done their part,
They have created a life, shaped and molded by two, they have created a piece of art.
And as I watch from a distance, she has trusted them since her youth,
Though their language is never spoken, her hands tell the truth.

© 2000, A. Kathy Moss, All rights reserved
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.


About the poem

A. K. Moss comments:

"The Truth" was written for a good friend of mine, who I respect and admire, Billie Flick. In spending some time down in the high desert of Southern Oregon in the small town of Plush, I watched Billie work throughout the day and these are the things that I saw. It makes one stop and think for a moment of all the things we do in a day and what kind of life our hands create.


photo by Tracy Moss
A. K. Moss and Billie Flick


Additional links

A. K. Moss feature at CowboyPoetry.com
A. K. Moss' web site


Track 5:  Dennis Gaines, "The Spandex Cowboy"

Below:

About the track, "The Spandex Cowboy"
About the poet, Dennis Gaines
The poem, "The Spandex Cowboy"
About the music
About the poem
Additional links

About the track, "The Spandex Cowboy"

"The Spandex Cowboy" is from Dennis Gaines' CD, Son-of-a-Gun-Stew: A Texas Cowboy's Gather, recipient of the Academy of Western Artists' Will Rogers Award for Best Cowboy Poetry CD.


About the poet, Dennis Gaines

dg06.jpg (6529 bytes)

Dennis Gaines calls himself a cowboy poet, humorist and storyteller, a vocation that rates with bawdy house piano player in terms of prestige and respectability. Nevertheless, having survived an epic childhood which found his parents playing hide-and-seek all over the world, and Dennis always finding them, he was allowed to matriculate to the seventh grade, after which he found himself seeking ungainful employment in the oilfields of the world and ranches of the West.

He frequents assorted gatherings and may be spotted at conventions, private parties, banquets, gunfights, chili cookoffs, hangin's, hitchin's, trail drives, campfires, rodeos, soup kitchens, dude ranches, horse sales, casinos and dogfights. He has never been seen in the company of lawyers, politicians or other such outlaws.

Through all of it, he has tried to preserve some of what is good about cowboy culture and its heritage, with an emphasis on humor, tradition and perhaps even a little bit of nostalgia.

Dennis Gaines has been a featured performer at many gatherings across the West, including the Western Folklife Center's National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, the Monterey Cowboy Poetry and Music Gathering, the Cochise Cowboy Poetry and Music Gathering, the Texas Cowboy Reunion, and the Arizona Cowboy Poets Gathering. He's been awarded the Academy of Western Artists' Will Rogers Award award for Cowboy Humor

Son-of-a-Gun-Stew: A Texas Cowboy's Gather is Dennis Gaines' most recent CD. He has a book, New Tradition, Western Verse, and an award-winning video, Hapless Trails to You. 

    Dennis Gaines, TeePee City Productions, Hapless Trails to You


The poem, "The Spandex Cowboy"

The Spandex Cowboy

"Hey, Gaines, you're up. We paid yer fee; the first man in the chute."
As I dribbled chili on my pants and mustard on my boot,
From the hot dog I was scarfin' at the travelin' circus show
Known as Colonel Potter's Big Top Tent and Wrestlin' Rodeo.

Ol' Slim Bodine, the Chisos Kid and Ikie Bob and me
Had left the ranch and gone to town to see what we could see.
We had come to ride the elephant and watch the dancin' bear,
But such a tribe of freaks could melt yer bones and curl yer hair!

There was oddities and marvels that most eyes have never seen.
He had giants, midgets, leprechauns and Martians, blue and green.
There was ladies sproutin' whiskers and a gent with twenty toes,
And a man who gapped his gulper wide and gobbled his own nose!

The Turtle Boy was in his shell; the Human Crocodile
Was swallerin' live chickens with their feathers, all the while
That the bear was swattin' baseballs, and the Flyin' Cossack Boys
Was jugglin' bowlin' balls and flamin' swords and livin' toys,

Like bunnies, kittens, puppy dogs and circulatin' saws,
As the lion tamer stuck his head between the mighty jaws.
There was fortune tellers guessin' weights and calculatin' luck,
And Ikie paid four bits to see a seven-legged duck.

A feller set himself on fire and jumped into a trunk
With poison Gila monsters and a hydrophoby skunk.
A monkey in a kiltie jigged a Highland country dance,
Then showed the crowd that Scottish monks don't wear no underpants!

The hoochie-koochie gals was squirmin' in another tent,
And the barker told me, "Cowboy, you look like the kind of gent
That would 'preciate the finer things, so have a peek inside."
If the preacher seen what I could see, he'd shorely tan my hide!

They was wearin' mostly nothin', down to here and up to there,
So I give 'em each a dollar and said, "Buy some underwear."
When I told the other fellers what I'd seen and what I'd done,
They all agreed the circus show was shorely lots of fun.

I ate my weight in circus grub, from cones to car'mel corn,
Cotton candy, roastin' ears and shore as I was born,
When I'd had my share of chuck, from beans to chocolate goo,
The boys said, "Gaines, it's time to go and show what you can do."

For months and months we'd heard the brag from Colonel Potter's camp,
'Bout a wrestlin' phenomenon he claimed to be the champ.
A thousand bucks went to the gent who'd stay three rounds or more,
So natcherly the boys had drafted me to beat the score,

In tribute to my title as the Champeen of the Land,
For rasslin' bawlin' calves in dusty pens to wear the brand.
I could flip four hundred pounds of hide and hair and slingin' snot,
Serve him up for shish-kebobs or tie him in a knot.

"There's only three tough hombres in this world," I told my pards.
"And them other two, I'll guarantee ya, send me Christmas cards.
We'll take their money first and then we'll run 'em out of town.
The big galoot will rue the day he tried to take me down."

The poster said the victim of my wrath was named Attila,
The mutant offspring of a man and African gorilla.
A whisper circled through the crowd and stirred up quite a whirl.
"Good Lord," said Slim Bodine, "it seems Attila . . . is a girl!"

"Ha, ha, my boys, we're rich, we're rich. I'll take this gal to school.
Gallant, though, my cowboy ways, I'll be nobody's fool.
I'll bounce her like a sucklin' calf; hooray for womens' lib!
She'll curse the day she thought to stray away from Adam's rib."

 The band struck up the drums and pipes, and folks had gathered 'round,
When a total solar eclipse cast its shadow on the ground.
The earth begun to rumble with an awesome, crackin' noise.
The hair stood straight up on my neck, and on the other boys.

The Chisos Kid was paralyzed, his vocal cords was broke.
Ikie Bob had wet his pants, and Slim begun to choke
At the fearsome female specimen displayed before our eyes.
A gal should have a zip code when she gets to be that size!

 Her mammoth girth wrapped 'round the Earth as far as I could point!
A smarter man than me would say, "It's time to blow this joint."
Ikie said, "There's bigger gals; at least that's what I hear,
But all of them are pullin' plows or wagons full of beer."

Colonel Potter told me, "Son, them duds has got to go.
There's rules that we must follow at the Wrestlin' Rodeo.
You keep your hat, you keep your boots; a cowboy's got his pride,
You'll have to wear a diff'rent outfit there upon your hide."

They stripped me down, they togged me up, they turned me inside out.
They took my shirt, my britches, too; the crowd begun to shout.
They brought me out a wrestlin' rig that really made me blink.
It was tight and it was shiny; it was spandex, it was pink.

Attila loomed above me with a glaring, evil eye.
A voice more like a hippo's belch said, "Cowboy, now ya die!"
"No holds barred, and to the death," the ref was heard to say.
The buzzards started circlin', and I begun to pray.

My plan, it was to psyche her out, and that would save the day.
I flexed my pecs, I struck a pose, I leaped the grand jetè.
Croisè devant, the arabesque, I limbered down and up.
I drank my fill of Gatorade and crushed the Dixie cup!

I circled in, I circled out, I feinted left and right.
 I darted in and grabbed a leg and heaved with all my might.
 My strategy worked mighty well; she landed with a thud.
 A ton of lard in a leotard squashed me in the mud!

 My ears was full of gumbo and my mouth was full of sod.
She heaved me high enough for me to pay respects to God.
She had a grip in places where she shouldn't oughtta grab.
If I should ever walk again, I'd waddle like a crab!

She tightened up her grip until my voice begun to soar.
I'd shorely sing soprano if she'd squeeze a little more!
She whirled me like a helicopter revvin' up to fly.
Snot flew from my nostrils as the world went sailin' by.

She changed the game to basketball; she dunked me in the goo.
She bounced me to the hippo pen and chunked me in the poo.
She mopped me through the mud and muck 'til I begun to squish;
Grabbed my ankles, snatched me up and told me, "Make a wish."

She tied my legs behind my head; it was an awful scene.
My eyeballs spun like cherries in a Vegas slot machine.
I saw stars and little birdies as she cracked me like a nut.
'Twas then I realized that I was starin' at my butt!

Colonel Potter offered me a job he had in mind.
He'd bill me as "The Cowboy Who Could Kiss His Own Behind."
I figgered there was safer ways to earn a thousand bucks,
Like standin' up to cannonballs or tractor-trailer trucks!

I lay there in the slime and slop, with not much cause for glee.
My bones was broke, my joints was popped; I'd lost the entry fee.
At least I had my cowboy pards, no better could I choose.
"Don't worry 'bout it, Gaines," they said. "We bet on you to lose."

© 2000, Dennis Gaines
, All rights reserved
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission. 

 


photo by Lori Faith Merritt, www.PhotographyByFaith.com
Dennis Gaines performing "The Spandex Cowboy" at the 
2006 Cochise Cowboy Poetry and Music Gathering


About the poem

Celebrated as a top storyteller and poet, Dennis Gaines has a kind of disclaimer about his singing style, as he explains in his Son-of-a-Gun-Stew: A Texas Cowboy's Gather liner notes (titled "Ponderin's"): "...my authentic singing style, which is pure cowboy and done in the 'Acapulco' Style.  Some folks have claimed that the correct term is a cappella, which is Latin and means 'to sing without benefit of musical accompaniment.'  That may be true, but no cowboy of my acquaintance ever took any of his workin' vocabulary from the Latin language.  Most all of our gear, workin' methods and language was taken from the old Mexican vaqueros and Californios.  When old Sid told me that he liked my singing Acapulco, he actually meant that he wanted me to do my singing in Acapulco, or anywhere else besides the bunkhouse.  He told me that true cowboy singing is only done by 'them fellers that's swallered too much campfire smoke and trail dust,' and that 'Acapulco' is a corrupted version of a cappella and means 'to sing off-key and out of tune.' I am generally acknowledged as the finest 'Acapulco' singer in the world." 


About the music

This track is backed up by Dallas/Ft.Worth-area guitarist Danny Hubbard, who, along with producer and musician Ron DiIulio, also provided the music for Dennis Gaines' earlier recording,  Live From Hotel Turkey.


Additional links

Dennis Gaines feature at CowboyPoetry.com
Dennis Gaines at the Texas Commission on the Arts web site 


Track 6:  Jane Morton, "Yoo-hoo"

jmturningcd.JPG (23146 bytes)

Below:

About the track, "Yoo-hoo"
About the poet, Jane Morton
The poem, "Yoo-hoo"
About the poem
Additional links

About the track, "Yoo-hoo"

"Yoo-hoo" is included on Jane Morton's CD Turning to Face the Wind and on a two-disc CD that also includes her husband Dick Morton's recitations, Turning to Face the Wind and Cowboy Classics.  On the Turning to Face the Wind CD, background music is composed and played by Wayne Richardson.

The poem is also included in her book, Cowboy Poetry:Turning to Face the Wind, recipient of the Will Rogers Medallion Award and the Fred Olds Poetry Award from Westerners International. The book was a Willa Literary Award finalist.


About the poet, Jane Morton

Jane Morton comments:

I grew up on the plains of northeastern Colorado in the midst of the drought and the Depression.  My father taught school and helped his father with the family farm near Fort Morgan.  This farm had been in the family since 1911 when my great-grandfather bought the original 320 acres.  They owed the bank, and there was little money coming in, so the whole family had to pitch in and help if we were to keep our land.

During the '40s the debt was almost paid off, and the family went into the cattle business. As the financial situation improved we bought more land.  By the late sixties we had acquired 14,000 acres, the herd had grown to 800 head of Herefords, and the "farm" had become a ranch.

When I married, my husband and I, besides being educators were involved in the ranch and ranch activities including branding, round-ups, and cattle sales.  Dad had one man on the payroll and farmed out some of the big jobs, such as cutting corn for silage.  Otherwise the family did it all.

After attending my first cowboy poetry gathering in Colorado Springs in 1998, I began to write and recite poems about the family and the ranch. Since that time I have performed at the Western Folklife Center's National Cowboy Poetry Gathering and other gatherings throughout the West.

Now retired, Jane and her husband live near Colorado Springs on the edge of the Black Forest part of the year and in Mesa, Arizona the other part.

Jane Morton's book, Cowboy Poetry:Turning to Face the Wind, was the recipient of the Will Rogers Medallion Award and the Fred Olds Poetry Award from Westerners International. The book was a Willa Literary Award finalist.  Jane Morton also has two CDs,Turning to Face the Wind, and a two-disc CD that includes her husband Dick Morton's recitations, Turning to Face the Wind and Cowboy Classics

jmturningcd.JPG (23146 bytes) 


The poem, "Yoo-hoo"

Yoo-hoo

My mother always called, "Yoo-hoo," so we would look her way.
She did it at the sale barn one cattle auction day.

Dad brought his cows to market there, as he did every spring.
He liked to watch the auction and his cattle in the ring.

Some Hereford cows were milling round, and others bawling loud.
The auctioneer was trying hard to stir the morning crowd.

My folks were in their usual seat where they had said they'd be,
And I had started toward them when my mother spotted me.

She jumped up quick and called, "You-hoo," and then she waved her hand.
She'd bid on thirty Herefords with our own CU brand.

The auctioneer looked toward my mom and gave a little nod.
A feedlot buyer raised her bid, and I was thanking God.

I didn't dare to signal her for fear they'd think I'd bid,
And Mom had no idea at all of what she almost did.

So needing to get down there fast, I headed for the stair.
Then came another, "You-hoo Yo-ooooo," that caught me unaware.

I'd almost closed the distance when my mother waved once more.
The auctioneer acknowledged her, the way he had before.

I watched the feedlot buyer as I slipped into my seat,
And when the fellow didn't bid, my heart near ceased to beat.

My dad sat focused on the ring completely unaware
Of all the action going on right there beside his chair.

From up in back there came a bid, and I could breathe again.
I prayed the field had narrowed down to real cattle men.

I took Mom's hand soon as I could and held it tight in mine.
I said, "How are you doin', Mom?"  She said, "I'm doin' fine."

Now Mom had been to auctions, and she knew what not to do. 
Of course a real no no would have been to call, "Yoo-hoo."

But Mom forgot herself that day and learned to her chagrin
How close she came to buyin' back the cows that Dad brought in.
 
© Jane Morton
, All rights reserved
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.


photo from Cowboy Poetry: Turning to Face the Wind
Jane Ambrose Morton's family at the cattle sale. 
Back row, Annabelle Ambrose and Jane. 
Front row, Jane's mother, aunt, father, and brother Bill.


About the poem

Jane Morton comments:

My mother at auction inspired this poem. She always enjoyed the days at the Brush Livestock auction when most of the family got together and celebrated the sale as the culmination of the year's work. We came down from Denver and Mom watched the door more than than the auction until we got there. She wanted to be sure we knew where they were sitting, although they almost
always sat in the same place, so she waved and called to get our attention. This particular time I guess she didn't think we saw her so she waved and called more than usual. As I recite this poem, I have to think she is looking down on us from above, happy to see that people are laughing at her story and enjoying it.


Additional links

Jane Morton feature at CowboyPoetry.com


Track 7:  Pat Richardson, "Cowboy Banker"

Below:

About the track, "Cowboy Banker"
About the poet, Pat Richardson
The poem, "Cowboy Banker"
About the poem
Additional links


 

About the track, "Cowboy Banker"

"Cowboy Banker" is from Pat Richardson's CD, B. Y. O. S. (Bring Your Own Sheep).  


About the poet, Pat Richardson

PatRichardsonsm04aj.jpg (11055 bytes)

Pat Richardson was born and raised with livestock, he's rode colts, rodeoed and cartooned for The Pro Rodeo Sports News, besides working on ranches in several different states.  He and his brother Jess Howard are frequently-invited performers at the Western Folklife Center's National Cowboy Poetry Gathering and other gatherings across the West.

Baxter Black once said about Pat's poetry, "If you boiled cowboy poetry down to what's worth savin', this is what the stew would smell like."

Pat Richardson has a number of recordings, including Pull My Finger and B. Y. O. S. (Bring Your Own Sheep). His book of poetry, Pat Richardson Unhobbled, received the 2004 Will Rogers Medallion Award. He was named Male Cowboy Poet of the Year by the Academy of Western Artists.

   


The poem, "Cowboy Banker"

Cowboy Banker

"I wanna be a cowboy," said the banker Larry Brown
"an' work out in the country, 'steada cooped up here in town."
When his wife got wind of this she nearly went berserk
he made a hundred grand a year, doin' banker work.

She said," You can't ride a horse, you can barely drive a Jeep
the whole idea's dumber than a hundred head of sheep."
"Ben said he'd teach me everything I need to know
an' how long can that take? There's just giddyup an' whoa."

He went thumbin' through a catalog of "Western wear an' feed"
with his calculator hummin', addin' up the things he'd need
"A thousand for a saddle? There must be some mistake
a misprint he reckoned, a grand for heaven's sake?"

A hat an' vest, boots an' spurs, an' naturally a rope
a bridle, reins, an' silver bit, an' a bar of saddle soap
a pickup an' a trailer, an' assorted odds an' ends
"It's pretty dang expensive now, I'll tell you that my friend

Saddle blankets, underclothes, an' oh yes a pair of chinks.
When he hit the total button, took an hour just to blink.
So he gave up that cowboy scheme an' sez with some dismay,
"I can't afford to be a cowboy on a lousy banker's pay."

© 2001, Pat Richardson
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.


About the poem

Pat Richardson comments:

On one of my Dad's "get rich quick" schemes, a banker from Sacramento came out to look at the cows my Dad had bought with the bank's money. The banker had on a pair of shiny cowboy boots and he was mighty careful not to step in, or step even close to any cow pie. He was obviously scared to death of cows, and made the remark that he always wished he could go back to "punching cows" for a living. The only thing that kept Jess (my brother, Jess Howard) and me from laughing in his face was a stern look from Dad. 

Jess and I raced around behind the granary and had a magnificent laugh at the banker's expense, which, our Dad informed us later, was plainly audible to both him and the banker. And one day years later, as I was staring blankly into space, the poem "Cowboy Banker" came to me, and thus
another "classic" was born.


brothers Jess Howard and Pat Richardson


Additional links

Pat Richardson feature at CowboyPoetry.com
Pat Richardson's web site


Track 8:  Yvonne Hollenbeck, "What Would Martha Do?"

Below:

About the track, "What Would Martha Do?"
About the poet, Yvonne Hollenbeck
About the poem
Additional links

About the track, "What Would Martha Do?"

"What Would Martha Do" is from the CD, Where the Buffalo Rhyme, which was recorded live in October, 2003 at the Boss Cowman Cowboy Opry in Lemmon, South Dakota. The CD features three other top poets as well, Jess Howard, Rodney Nelson and Elizabeth EbertJim Thompson, of Live With Jim Thompson! and Heritage of the West was the emcee.  

The Western Music Association declared "What Would Martha Do" the Most Requested Cowboy Poem in 2005.

"What Would Martha Do" is also included in Yvonne Hollenbeck's 2005 book, From My Window and other poems.


About the poet, Yvonne Hollenbeck

Yvonne Hollenbeck writes about her life as a Clearfield, South Dakota rancher's wife. While helping her husband Glen tend to the cattle and the registered quarter horses they raise, she often finds humor in the everyday duties of being a rancher's wife and quite often writes poetry or stories on the subject. As the daughter of a National Champion Old-Time Fiddler, she grew up in an environment that encouraged her to become an accomplished musician. She's a champion quilter, having won many state and national awards. Her favorite pastime, however, is writing and performing poetry.

A native of Gordon, Nebraska, she likes calling South Dakota cattle country her home. She feels very much a part of the state, as the great-granddaughter of Ben Arnold, a wellknown old-time Dakota cowhand who came to the state with the Texas trail herds and led quite an adventuresome life as a South Dakota pioneer. 

She has been a featured poet at many gatherings, including the Western Folklife Center's National Cowboy Poetry Gathering. Her poetry is included in several anthologies and a part of the four-poet CD, Where the Buffalo Rhyme.  She has published three books of poetry: Blossoms Beneath the Snow, a Tribute to the Pioneer Ranchwomen; Where Prairie Flowers Bloom, which received the Will Rogers Medallion Award; and From My Window. She has three CDs, My Home on the Range, Prairie Patchwork, and Winter on the Range, and has a new recording forthcoming in 2006.

Yvonne Hollenbeck was named the Top Female Poet in 2005 by the Academy of Western Artists.

 

     


About the poem

Yvonne Hollenbeck comments:

It was an extremely hot, dry Sunday in August. I was home alone on our South Dakota ranch, as the men had gone to a rodeo.  I planned to stay in my air-conditioned house and can peaches.  As I was getting the canning project ready, the telephone rang. It was a dispatcher at the Sheriff's office in Winner (our nearest town, 30 miles away) who told me there was a prairie fire several miles south of our ranch and they needed help. I immediately got into our pickup truck, which was loaded with fire-fighting equipment, and drove down to the fire. To make a long story short, I spent approximately 7 hours on the gunny sack crew, where you walk behind the fire line putting out small spot fires by beating them with wet gunny sacks. Before sundown, the wind switched blowing the fire back into itself and putting it under control so I returned home filthy dirty, hot, tired, thirsty, hungry and crabby. I immediately turned on TV to catch the weather report and see if there was any chance of rain in the forecast. Much to my chagrin, there was Martha Stewart, showing how to properly iron table linens. As tired as I was, I wrote the poem, "What Would Martha Do?," before I went to bed that night.


Additional links

Yvonne Hollenbeck's feature at CowboyPoetry.com
Yvonne Hollenbeck's web site


Track 9:  Doris Daley, "French Fries"

Below:

About the track, "French Fries"
About the poet, Doris Daley
The poem, "French Fries"
About the poem
Additional links

About the track, "French Fries"

"French Fries" is from Doris Daley's CD, Poetry in Motion.  It is also included in her book, Rhyme and Reason, where it is titled "Pierre."


About the poet, Doris Daley

Doris Daley has been an emcee and featured performer at every cowboy festival in Canada as well as several in the United States, including Texas, California, Colorado, Nevada, Utah, Montana and Oregon. In 2004 she was named Best Female Cowboy Poet in North America by the Academy of Western Artists, the first time any Canadian, male or female, has won the cowboy poetry category. In 2001 she was among a small group of cowboy entertainers chosen to perform at a command performance for Canada’s Governor General, and during Alberta’s centennial year, she was one of the artists selected to represent Alberta cowboy culture in Ottawa.

Born and raised in Southern Alberta ranch country, Doris Daley writes cowboy poetry that celebrates the humour, history and way of life of the west. Her great grandfather came west with the North West Mounted Police in the 1870s; her family has been ranching in the Alberta foothills for five generations.

Doris comes from a gene pool that includes ranchers, cowboys, Mounties, good cooks, sorry team ropers, Irish stowaways, bushwhackers, liars, two-steppers and saskatoon pickers.

“You’ll soon forget she’s a performer,” says Gary Brown of Monterey, California, “and feel like she’s one of the family.” While she is chasing rhymes and building poems, her husband Bob Haysom, a fly-fishing guide and outfitter, snags brown and rainbow trout out of Alberta’s world-renowned Bow River.

Doris Daley has been invited to Washington, D. C. to take part in the Smithsonian Institute's Folklife Festival program in the summer of 2006.

Doris Daley has three recordings, Three Babes on a Bale, Poetry in Motion, and Good for What Ails You. She has published two books, No Bum Steer, and Rhyme and Reason.

   


The poem, "French Fries"

French Fries

A French Canadian cowboy came out west to work on a big ranch in BC. He was gregarious, likeable and a good worker, but he didn't last through the spring. This poem tells why.

I remember the year we hired Pierre,
A dashing French cowboy from Old Trois Rivieres.
A ten-gallon chapeau and a dashing mustache,
He rode with élan and he roped with panache.
A stouthearted fellow with je ne sais quoi,
A hybrid of cowboy and coureur du bois.
He'd laugh and he'd sing, he'd joke and he'd babble,
Never mind the emphasis was on the wrong syllable.
He was well loved by all and we wished he would stay,
So the mystery remains why he left us that day.

It was early in spring, the lambs had done great.
Time to bob off their tails and alter the fate
Of little Fleecy and Snowflake, so with surgery done
The nuggets were broiled, served up on a ;bun.
"Ooh la la!" sang Pierre, "This lunch is delish!
What do you call such a marvelous dish?"
"Lamb fries," said Cookie, "Here, help yourself,
They don't last too long on the old cookhouse shelf."
Later in May the scene was repeated,
Branding was done, the cowboys were treated
To oysters, a culinary first for Pierre,
"Magnifique!" he called out, "Why they taste like tourtiere."
Cookie explained how he breaded and fried 'em,
"Calf fries," he said, "You haven't lived till you tried 'em."

It was new to Pierre, this cuisine de la range:
Lamb fries, then calf fries-it was all a bit strange.
But he had to admit, the taste was first-rate.
What wonderful morsels would next grace his plate?
Well, he didn't wait long, the very next day
A wonderful fragrance was wafting his way.
Would it be a ragout or an airy soufflé?
The smell from the stove foretold something gourmet.
"What's for lunch?" Pierre called out, and what he heard made him wince.
"French fries!" said Cookie. Pierre hasn't been seen or heard of since.

© Doris Daley, from Rhyme & Reason and Poetry in Motion
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.


About the poem

My brother told this little story around a campfire one night-to much guffawing and backslapping and hee hawing. I wanted to re-tell it in a poem, but why make it easy and use only English? Luckily for me, at least six of the 20 words I remembered from Grade 9 French rhymed. And (also luckily) I speak French so badly that the words that don't technically rhyme can be mangled and mis-pronounced to make them rhyme with something. Mesdames et monsieurs: l'histoire de Pierre La Vache Sauvage. Bon appetite!


Additional links

Doris Daley's feature at CowboyPoetry.com
Doris Daley's web site


Track 10: Chris Isaacs, "Change on the Range" (by Sunny Hancock)

 

Below:

About the track, "Change on the Range"
About the poet, Sunny Hancock
About the reciter, Chris Isaacs
The poem, "Change on the Range"
About the poem
About the music
Additional links

About the track, "Change on the Range"

"Change of the Range," by the late Sunny Hancock, is recited by Chris Isaacs on his CD, A Pair of Aces

The poem is included in Sunny Hancock's book, Horse Tracks Through the Sage, which also includes poetry by Jesse Smith. The book received the Will Rogers Medallion Award and the Buck Ramsey Best Poetry Book Award from the Academy of Western Artists.


About the poet, Sunny Hancock

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Sunny Hancock was in the vanguard of the cowboy poetry movement, starting with the first gathering in Elko in 1985 (now the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, sponsored by the Western Folklife Center). He performed poetry all over the United States, including at the Library of Congress and at the Smithsonian. He received several awards, including the Gail Gardner Award, presented at the Arizona Cowboy Poets Gathering in Prescott, Arizona, and the Cowboy Poet of the Year award in 2001 from the Academy of Western Artists.

Sunny Hancock was known mostly for his humorous poetry, but did an occasional tearjerker as well. He cowboyed all over the western U. S. and settled, in retirement, with his wife Alice on a little place outside Lakeview, Oregon with a house and five acres where they raised a few beef steers in the summer to supply meat for the table and to help pay the taxes.

Sunny Hancock had several recordings, and he and poet Jesse Smith published a book, Horse Tracks Through the Sage, which received the Will Rogers Medallion Award and the Buck Ramsey Best Poetry Book Award from the Academy of Western Artists.

Sunny Hancock died May 15, 2003.


About the reciter, Chris Isaacs

A three-time winner of the Academy of Western Artists Will Rogers Award, Chris Isaacs is a poet and storyteller who has lived the life that he writes about. He has seen life from a cowboy's point of view for all of his 60-plus years, and his poems and stories are alive with the heart and humor of that life. 

Chris Isaacs has worked at many different aspects of the cowboy life from being a full time working cowboy, to rodeoing, to many years as a packer. In between jobs you could usually find him making a living as a horseshoer. He has a passion for good horses and mules, and has even owned a good dog or two. He currently day-works for area ranches, travels the country with his poetry, and conducts creative writing workshops for Creative Classrooms West.  He lives in the beautiful White Mountains of eastern Arizona with his wife of over 30 years, Helen.

Chris Isaacs has been published in numerous magazines, including American Cowboy and Western Horseman. He has two books, Bringing it Home, and Rhymes, Reasons & Packsaddle Proverbs, which received the Will Rogers Medallion Award from the Academy of Western Artists. He also has five recordings, including two Both Sides and Out With the Crew, which received the Best Poetry Recording Award in 1997 and 2002 respectively, from the Academy of Western Artists.

His CD, A Pair of Aces, honors the memories and celebrates the talents of his friends, cowboy poetry greats Sunny Hancock and Larry McWhorter

 

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The poem, "Change on the Range"

Change on the Range

The way the times and customs change
   these days is sure a fright.
If you want to sell a product then
   you've got to name it right.
Today's he-man still shuns perfume
   but change the name I'll bet,
And they'd buy it by the gallon
   if you called it "Stud Horse Sweat."

I see one guy wearin' earrings
   as he minced across the floor,
And another with some hair spray,
   fluffin' up his pompadour.
I thought cowboys was exceptions
   but we're all the same, I guess
If you go back, say, fifteen summers,
   note the changes in our dress.

Where did this new dress code come from?
   Hell, nobody's sure, I s'pose,
But I think a lot of it was culled
   from cowboy TV shows.
Remember one back in the sixties?
   Hero's name was Marshal Dillon.
Rode a switch tailed buckskin workhorse,
   always did a lot of killin'.

The bad guys all wore floppy hats,
   no creases in the crown,
Lace-up boots and lots of whiskers
   and they'd terrorize the town.
Marshal Dillon brought 'em in, though,
   to the hoosegow in Dodge City
Then he'd stroll down to the Long Branch
   for a drink with Doc and Kitty.

Kids a-watchin' them old TV shows
   them days was some impressed.
And they probably figured that's the way
   those old-time cowboys dressed.
So then when they'd growed up some
   and no longer was a boy,
Why, they'd buy them kind of clothes
   so they'd look the real McCoy.

I go clear back to the thirties
   gosh, it seems like yesterday.
On Saturday us kids
   would get to watch the matinee.
Remember those old heroines?
   They sure was pretty things.
They'd let their hats hang down their backs
   on big long leather strings.

To keep their hair from looking like
   they'd just been in a scrap,
And the cowboys promptly
   named that rig a "Cinderalla Strap."
No cowboy ever wore one dangling
   down across his face.
They'd have branded him a &qu