photo by Jeri L. Dobrowski
KEN COOK
Martin, South Dakota
About Ken Cook
Ken Cook's web site
Recognized for his poem, "The Conversation"
About Ken Cook:
Ken Cook of Martin, South Dakota, is currently ranching and writing in southeast Bennett County. His wife, Nancy, has a real job in town at the bank! It's a marriage made in heaven. Ken gets to kiss his banker every evening.
Ken's poetry cuts a wide path—from the humorous "who'd-a-thunk-it" mishaps involving kids, cattle, and horses, right down an emotional trail reliving the years spent horseback with his grandpa Frank Buckles. His son Kiel is currently working on the ranch his great-grandpa Buckles started and the family once owned.
Cook writes about what he knows: punchin' cows and livin' life. He has had the privilege of entertaining folks in several states, including a trip to the 23rd National Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Elko, Nevada, as a featured performer.
Ken has recorded two CD's of original poetry, Dad, We'll Rope Today and I'm Gonna Be a Cowboy. His latest CD, Cowboys Are Like That includes the work of Buck Ramsey, Badger Clark, and Ralph Garnier Coole, as well as his own poetry. Ken's poetry is featured on the 2007, 2008, and 2009 editions of The BAR-D Roundup.
To learn more about Ken and his poetry visit his website, www.kencookcowboypoet.com.
We asked Ken why he writes cowboy poetry and why he thinks it is important.Cowboying, for a hundred different reasons, is a way of life folks are drawn to. There's no better way to share this life I live than through poetry. Besides, my singing is terrible and I couldn't play a guitar on a bet!
Over the years I've ridden 'longside men three times my age, and kids green as spring grass. Old and young alike have a story to tell, and if I can "steal" just a little from each one of them, a poem will find its way to the surface of a piece of paper. After hearing a poem of mine, someone will ask "Is that true, or did that really happen?" I tell them it's all true...except for the parts I made up.
I write because I get the same adrenalin rush from writing as I do from punchin' cows, roping and ridin' good horses. It's just what I do.
This is Ken Cook's winning poem:
The ConversationWhat has not changed ol' cowboy friend
Since you was young and men were men?
When horse not broke till nearly five?
Cow's horns intact kept calf alive!
What has not changed in all your days,
Is nothin' left of cowboy ways?
The wagon was your only home
And blackest eve Nighthawk did roam,
To hold 'em quiet with lullaby
And ride the ridge where coyotes cry.
What has not changed in all your days,
Is nothin' left of cowboy ways?
When fences held a garden tight
And grass for miles a wondrous sight,
With horse and rope to branding fire
You burned the hide with one desire,
To live a life on Sandhills grass.
Tell me cowboy, has all that passed?
I'll tell you boy what still remains
Of cowboy ways here on the plains.
By God you ride the same as me
And cows are cows near's I can see.
I'll tell you son what still survives
Of cowboy ways shines in your eyes.
Few teams are left and fence appeared
So Nighthawk sleeps but over years,
By God you rope and do it grand
'Cause it's your life, you've made your stand,
Which has not changed in all the days
You've kept alive a cowboy's ways.
You fight back change to keep old ways
That every year make ranching pay,
So generations yet to come
Might live this life that we've begun.
They'll saddle horse to work a cow
Here on this ranch like we do now.
© 2007, Ken Cook
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.Ken tells about the inspiration for his poem:
On February 1st, 2007, I did an interview at the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering at the Deep West Sheep Camp with Laura Marcus. I spent nearly the entire interview talking about my Grandpa Frank Buckles and my kids and the changes in the cattle industry that have occurred over three generations. Laura asked the question, "Ken, what has not changed?" I thought for a moment then replied, "Cows." The one thing that has not changed is the fact that cows are still...just cows. As I left the sheep camp I pulled my pad and pen out of my pocket and wrote down the line "cows are cows." And those three words prompted the creation of the dialogue between a grandpa and his grandson that I call "The Conversation."
For me, the poem has become ageless, with the passing of my Grandpa, my kids growing up, and now a grandchild of my own. This thing we call "life on the ranch" has a way changing with the seasons.
Ken has written about his grandfather in poems such as "Grandpa," and has shared photos and stories about him in Picture the West. You can see those photos and read more here, on page two.
You can email Ken Cook: ken@kencookcowboypoet.com
Ken Cook was previously recognized as one of
for his poem, "Grandpa"This tale's about my Grandpa sittin' tall up in the saddle.
He's a tough old bird, a cattleman, dang he's hard to rattle.
I've seen him stand his ground with men who had the upper hand,
He'll prove his point, make them think, and then they'll feel their stand
Was off a bit, perhaps he's right. The words he says are true.
The gate will close, the trucks will leave, Grandpa's gained a dime or two.
Don't get me wrong, he's family, the first to visit for a spell.
But he's constantly a thinkin' 'bout the cattle and the sale.
Money in the bank to Gramps is money layin' dead.
Buy some stock, a cow, some calves, then work to get' em fed.
Be it winter, spring, or summer, don't fret the grass will grow.
If it's short, we'll sell' em early, gotta buy back 'fore the snow.
The snows come each year to Dakota Territory.
Calves are weaned, the trucks are here, the boughten calves are all the story.
Grandpa says treat' em right, get' em on that feed real fast,
Perhaps a bale, or maybe not, gotta make that baled hay last.
The cows will need the hay 'fore the grass begins to grow.
Cows and calves, steers and feed, round and round we go.© 2006, Ken Cook, from I'm Gonna Be a Cowboy
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.
Ken told us about his inspiration for the poem:
During the 1980's at Buckles Ranch we sold yearlings right off the place. Grandpa Buckles and I moved thousands of steers from holding pens to the scales to be weighed over the years. Cattle buyers would nervously pace from the scale house to the door watching the cattle, the weights, and the number of head. Grandpa would always have the final word on the sale of the cattle and the price. More than once I watched him 'gain a dime or two.' No matter what time of year it was and regardless of our feed supply or grass conditions...cattle needed bought or sold according to my Grandpa.
You can email Ken Cook.
Read more about Ken Cook's "Grandpa Buckles" on page 2, which includes photos.
"Dad, we'll rope today"
Wish you could have been there it was quite a sight to see.
So I'll tell it like it happened and I'm sure that you'll agree.
There's nothing can compare to the fun we had that day
When the Cook kids went to doctor calves and said, "Dad, we'll rope today."
Now my crew was much excited, I could tell they'd give their all,
Late into the night they roped that dummy, promised to be up first call.
Ma woke to rustle breakfast then back she came to say,
"Your kids are saddled up and waiting, best be on your way."
Now the plan was down right simple, ease through the pairs & then,
Softly drop a loop or two and ride back home again.
But, Lordy, I misjudged them kids; their springs were wound too tight.
And their approach to docterin' sick ones put them cows and calves to flight.
I figure Kork began the ruckus when he built himself a loop,
And Blondie went to buckin' and them calves began to spook.
I grabbed a rein and whoaed him up just in time to see,
Bugs & his horse C.J. lined out on a red baldie.
I left Kork to tend to business, seems nature had made an urgent call,
And a cowboy must do what he just can't put off, when there isn't a tree or a stall.
Now Bugs had that calf in his sights, set to rope, and his horse was tracking him grand,
But he checked him up and stepped on down, this I couldn't understand.
"Hey, why'd ya bail, you had him," Bugs was kneeling on the ground.
Scared me at first, I figured the worst, but he smiled and said, "Look what I found.
It's a bird's nest, Dad, and a couple of eggs. Why's she got 'em out here on this slope?"
"I got no idea, but if you're finished down there, where's the calf you were plannin' to rope?"
"Well, the cows were all runnin', and most of the calves, guess I lost him up over the hill.
But Kiel said he'd find him and Jo said she'd help. They both headed south to the mill."
Now the cows and the calves had all settled, 'cept that one that was laggin' behind.
Kiel could slip up and rope him plum easy, but easy was far from him mind.
At the speed of light his horse fired by that critter, the calf kinda watched as he passed,
Kork turned to me with a smile on his face and said, "Gee, Dad, ain't Kiel's horse fast!"
Deep into the bunch he was headed, the herd scattered again on the run,
Two cows through the fence, one calf followed suit and the rest just erupted for fun.
"That's it! Everybody get up here, Bugs, Kiel, Korey, and Jo.
We're gonna doctor at least one of these calves before we cash in, so let's go.
Stay beside me, don't take off a runnin'. Keep your horse calm, let's do this job right.
Ease by them there calves, take a good look at each, no sense in a pace that's too tight.
Shag a loop on that red with the scours," Kork roped him and flanked him real quick.
"We'll give him a pill and mark him for sure, that way we can tell he's been sick."
Jo rode up and gave me the mark stick, her voice was as soft as a mouse,
"Just mark him today, Dad, and we'll pill him tomorrow, 'cause the pills are still back at the house."
© 2005, Ken Cook, from "Dad we'll rope today"
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.
Ken told us: This poem is closer to the way it really happened than I care to admit. Let me put it this way, it was an adventure!
All four of the kids learned to ride when they were little guys and the three boys (Kiel, Korey, Kelly) would rather rope than eat. Kasey Jo is the oldest and the only girl and a good hand but never did do any roping. What started as a routine day riding through the cows and calves to check for sick ones soon escalated to looking like a circus with no tent. All of my "top hands" plum forgot what they'd learned about handling cattle and I can't say I did much better after the chaos was in full swing. The best part wasn't that we forgot the medicine, it was after Kork's horse finished bucking and Kork had a nature call.
Hope you enjoy the poem. Back in 1987 when Waddie Mitchell released his Waddie Mitchell's Christmas Poems, Nanc and I received a signed copy. In it he wrote, "Ken & Nancy, Please enjoy this but do read it aloud." If I may be so bold, please follow his advice.
The Cook kids, 1996
The Cook kids, 1999
Our horses aren't the kind whose bloodlines run real deep,
More often ours are horses that we acquired cheap.
There's been Shetlands, nags, and colts the kids have rode for free,
Geldings saved from the killer's truck by a cowboy poor, and that's me.
"Dad please buy us this one, we'll feed him every day."
I kid you not, on the drive home that dang horse passed away.
Mounts borrowed from an uncle, grandpa, and the boss,
A one-eared stud by Satan's Pet that bucked his bridle off.
Bid to buy a well bred one, I'm a Son of Peppy San.
Cash was scarce so passed him over for Catch Me If You Can!
A pin-fired jug-head off the track, that horse could flat out run,
Problem was, he had no whoa, so stoppin' wasn't fun.
Owned several that were rope shy, cinchy, hard to load.
A paint that wouldn't move at all, the children named him Toad.
That cribber who needed a muzzle, a thin one, we got his teeth floated,
Still couldn't eat hay, so my girl fed him oats, six bags later that night, poor thing bloated.
A sorrel, a gray, oh yes and a black, can't say color was ever to blame.
More often than not, if I told you the truth, I'm bettin' I bought em all lame.
Now over the years, our horses improved 'cause me and my crew did the same.
Gosh I enjoy, horseback in the sand with cowboys who share my last name.
No matter the job, or which neighbor we help, very seldom we'll be poorly mounted.
As their Dad, I'm amazed, by the kids that we've raised our blessings are gratefully counted.
Still our horses aren't the kind whose bloodlines run real deep,
But the cowboys who are ridin' them, their bloodline is mine to keep.
© 2005, Ken Cook, from "Dad we'll rope today"
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.
Ken Cook and his three sons
I'm Gonna Be a Cowboy
We were calvin' on the LT— snow began to fall
Hard wind from the east's no good, no protection there at all
No doubt we're needin' moisture but the calves weren't lookin' good
Figured if we saddled up we could hold'em like we should
Calves were chillin' down and cows began to stray
I bed them down with one more stack so's maybe they would stay
Kiel had our horses caught and rushed'em all he could
For a boy of only 13 years my top hand's pretty good
I had two calves in the pickup, not just to save their ears
Dyin' calves don't suit me and the chance of that was clear.
Met Kiel there at the barn and we had ourselves an eye to eye
"This here won't be easy son." And this was his reply
"I know just what needs doin' Dad and you can bet on that
I'm gonna be a cowboy," then he pulled his hat down flat.
Didn't want my son at risk but was sure that's what I'd done
We couldn't see the barn no more I feared the storm had won
"There's two in the southwest corner can ya bring'em through the snow?
I'll keep these from headin' south then meet you when you show."
My cows settled by the trees thank God, so I got off for just a spell
Still couldn't see him comin' cause this storm was now white hell
I knelt down to try and clear my head and get my bearings straight
Said myself a prayer I guess. Good lord I've sealed his fate.
Now wait, that's him, with a new born on his saddle
Movin' slow and easy so the mama not to rattle
Yep that calf was on his saddle, back legs tied just like I'd do
"The cow's a comin' Dad, brought her like ya showed me too
Wish Great Grandpa coulda been with me, we'd a got'em both I know
That other cow's a calvin' Dad, we're wastin' time let's go
If she's had him, you just hand him up, ol' CJ'll buck the snow
I can bring her calf with me. you bring the cow real slow
Then we'll ride the rest of them, make sure their on the hay
Cause Dad that's what I was born to do and grandpa did it that way."
I no longer had to wonder, as we rode south I knew
My top hand was a cowboy, doin' what he loved to do.
© 2006, Ken Cook, from I'm Gonna Be a Cowboy
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.
Ken told us, "My son Kiel (rhymes with Kyle) and I were headed out in a snow storm during calving to bring a few heavy cows in where there was some protection to calve. We calve early in the spring up here...too early some years according to Mother Nature. The snow and wind was blowing in our faces as we rode out. I looked at my boy and hollered above the wind, "So you wanna be a cowboy huh?" I'll never forget the look of determination on that boy's face as he said "Yes I do, Dad."
Photo of Kiel Cook by Carl Johnson
Read Ken Cook's
Revel in the Journey in our Art Spur Project
Come with Me in our Art Spur project
and
Remote Control Wife posted with 2007 Christmas poems
and
Brothers Stay Together in our Art Spur project
and
Company in our Art Spur project
About Ken Cook:
Above created by Jeri L. Dobrowski
Cowboys Are Like That
2009Includes:
Come with Me
Brothers Stay Together
Grandpa's Spurs
Cowboys Are Like That
Buck Ramsey's Grass: from Chapter 3
Buck Ramsey's Grass: from Chapter 7
From Town by Badger Clark
Fill 'em up to Overflowin'
Calling for a Cowboy
The Ranch up Yonder by Ralph Garnier Coole
Buck Ramsey's Grass: A Ponder
The ConversationAvailable for $15.00 postpaid.
To place an order:Ken Cook
23154 Teal Lane
Martin, SD 57551-6601
(605) 685-6749
Ken comments: The original poems included on this album have stayed hidden where only cow punchers ride until now. They are some of my best work. Poetry by Buck Ramsey, Ralph Garnier Coole, and Badger Clark is included
because I admire their work. May their gift of poetry never be hidden, but always shared for generations to come.
The album is a journey beginning with an invitation to "Come With Me" and ending with a cowboy's legacy entitled "The Conversation." I invite you to cinch up and ride along.
From Rick Huff's Best of the West Reviews:In his commanding style that tells the story first and the rhyme in proper time, Ken Cook presents an exceptional new CD.
Cowboys Are Like That is one of Cook's original poems, but the title very much presents the brogan for this collection to bed down in. His lines fit just fine with excerpts from Buck Ramsey's epic "Grass," or Badger Clark's "From Town," or Ralph Coole's "The Ranch Up Yonder." The crafted words from those noted poets and the increasingly sought after Mr. Cook masterfully illustrate how "cowboys are like that!" But like the very best of Cowboy Poetry will do, they extend beyond hoof, horn and saddle to embrace more universal themes and truths.
In an enclosed cover letter, Ken provided some insight into the extra effort he put into the creation and the rendering of this album. It shows. If he hadn't done so before now, with "Cowboys Are Like That" Ken Cook has cemented his place among the modern "A-listers" of the genre.
© 2009, Rick Huff
"I'm Gonna Be a Cowboy"
Includes:
Loaded Pair of Coots
Vern's Saddle Holds the Memories
A Cowboy's Advice to the Foreman (on the risks of fencing)
I'm Gonna Be a Cowboy
Diversification
The Branding Not Done
Grandpa
Grandpa's Spurs
Bring Her Back to the Home Range
Good Company
Twelve Days of Ranching
So Here's How I've Been Raised
Available for $12.00 postpaid.
To place an order:
Ken Cook
23154 Teal Lane
Martin, SD 57551-6601
(605) 685-6749
"Dad, we'll rope today"
"Hope you enjoy the CD as much as I enjoyed living what's on it."Includes:
Kill this Cow
Calving
Let the Hammer Down
"Dad, we'll rope today"
A Ride for the Fiddler
Joy is a Choice
The Reckoning
Bugs' Good Advice
The Renegade
Gone are the Days
Exercise
BloodlinesAvailable for $12.00 postpaid.
To place an order:
Ken Cook
23154 Teal Lane
Martin, SD 57551-6601
(605) 685-6749 (My answering machine works)
Review by Marvin O'Dell of Around the Campfire, May 2006:
If you've never visited a ranch, or you don't think you'll get to visit one in the near future, then you need to pick up Dad, We'll Rope Today, Ken Cook's latest CD. And by the time you're through listening to this string of cowboy poems, you'll feel like you've not only visited a ranch but spent the day working while you were there. I mean, this CD almost tires you out—in a good way. It's a compendium on a day in the life of a cowboy. More often than not, it's a humorous presentation of how NOT to cowboy.
Ken will have you laughing when you first start out on your visit to his ranch. Then he'll sober you up with some poetry that makes no bones about his love and admiration for his calf-ropin' kids, the attitudes that get a cowboy through the day, and the disaster that a cowboy can suddenly meet during his day's work.
"Gone are the Days" is a wonderful tribute poem in which Ken expresses his appreciation for those who have gone before and those who taught him how to handle a rope. If you've ever been a parent, you'll not be able to keep from smiling as you listen to the title cut. Remember the first time you "gave in" and let your kids help? And the theme of the proud parent continues as Ken presents "Bloodlines."
I think what I enjoy most about this CD, though, is the trip it takes me on. I feel like I've spent the day riding with Ken by the time the last poem has played. And I think that's what good cowboy poetry should be about. Not just cowboys reciting poetry or poets writing poems about cowboys— but cowboys sharing their life experiences with me in such a way that I can't wait to climb up on a horse and ride again. Even if I've never sat a horse in my life! Ken Cook's Dad, We'll Rope Today leaves you with exactly that feeling.
So put this CD on, lay back and close your eyes, and take in the noise and smells and excitement of a day at the ranch. I promise Ken Cook will make sure you have a good time.
© 2006, Marvin O'Dell, host of Around the Campfire on Classic Heartland
Reprinted with permission
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