Cowboy Poetry
Sagebrush Solitude
Wheelchair Dreams
A Man's Man
The Monument
Cowboy Poetry
from the pages of
"More Posthole Philosophy"
by Glen D. McKenzie
Thru' the tall sagebrush in the evenin's hush
Down a dirt trail hard to describe
Past the red rock stones and some old cow's bones
Where the ghosts of old settlers hide
Wild things drinkin' at the windmill's tank
Lissen to it creakin' and groanin' its intent
Comin' down a dry washbed to that rise up ahead
The coyote smells the jackrabbit's scent
I sit lookin' at the old windmill tower
Away in that hot dusty haze
Both church and shrine is that derrick of mine
And brings peace to my old fading gaze
Up the weathered flank on the ladder's plank
To perch near the gears and the vane
I sat down to rest close to the nest
Of the hawk circlin' wide o'er the plain
The mill's rumblin' throat issues an eerie note
Tho' they sayit creaks and scolds
Workin' hard to water the sun-baked land
As the sun turns the green to gold
The wild horses still roam for this is their home
It takes care of all their needs
They drink at the trough and then they move off
The galloping steeds and the tumbleweeds
Gushing waters spill out of that old windmill
From those rusty pipes down there below
And I stand in awe as the mustangs paw
While I lissen to the call of a crow
Nature's evening' song beckons me on
Thru' colors of violet and blue
I stand alone proud to call this land home
With this windmill tower as my pew
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At the rodeo all the good boys were there
You could smell popcorn, dust and animal hair
But in the special section in a power wheelchair
Was a young crippled boy with tousled black hair
He'd see thoes cowboys pack snoose in their jaw
And watch thoes ton bulls beller and paw
The little crippled boy just sat in awe
With his bad deal in life...stuck in his craw
Why were thoes men in such athletic shape?
Just made this small boy ponder and grape
At these cowboys, some muscled up like an ape
But this wheelchair offered him no escape
At first he cried then he got mad
Feelin cheated over the the bad deal he had
But he thanked his mom and he thanked his dad
For feelin' proud of their young son...Thad
Not Blessed with all the good things in life
Cut thru Thad like a red hot knife
In his wheelchair he promised to handle this strife
With his family's help and his little dog...Fife
He'd dream about rodeo almost every day
But what could he do in rodeo that would pay?
His crippled body just hurt and he'd pray
That in his mind somehow there was a way
He created rodeo drawings with artistic hands
Of every rodeo event there was in this land
This talented artist deserves a big hand
For goin' through life the way that he planned
His superb art now hangs in most rodeo halls
He sells his work at all the major malls
Livin' proof that when people get these calls
They can do anthing they want IF THEY JUST HAVE THE DRIVE!
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He sat his horse with confidence and style
You could tell he was just plum at ease
His buckaroo hat and his centerfire rig
Complemented his "chinks" cut just below his knees.
He'd cowboyed since he could fork a horse
And loved that wide open space
But the troubles that he has bin' through
Were written in the lines on his face.
That face bein' covered with a wild rag
Durin' the times when the weather got rough
His throught and chin have bin' protected
But even then his tanned skin was rough.
His nose and cheeks showed signs of scars
That could have happened to him in a crash
But them ol' scars fit his rugged appearance
Capped off by his firecracker moustache.
A few grey hairs show'd from under his hat
Which comes to me as no surprise
He'd lived a full life as a workin' cowboy
And this showed in the lines 'round his eyes.
Some lines show'd that his parents died young
And most others from goin' down life's road
But etched on this rugged and handsome face
Some worry and premature lines show'd.
He's all cowboy and we need more like him
They Make decisions and don't sit on the shelf
He's a man's man and there's no "Beller and Paw"
To a man that's completely sure of himself.
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The crumbing monument stood half-covered with sand
The old cowboy sat quietly in the stiefling heat
Brushing sweat from his brow, he could not understand
If it was erected for success or defeat.
Bronze plaques and monuments since time began
Have been erected all over the earth
But veryfew are dedicated to that old cowboy
Who only inside his heart, knows his worth
He spends each day from sunup to dark
Proud to be in touch with the land
Lookin' at the world thru the ears of a horse
Satisfied, livin' life as he planned
The old cowboy shook his head and muttered
"Our heros deserve all this recognition
But how come this old monument in Ottawa
Is in this terrible run-down condition?"
The curious cowboy stepped off his horse
And brushed the bronze plaque off with fear
His old eyes squinted at the inscription that said
"Since 1867...in this government building...
NOTHING....has happened here"
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More Cowboy Poetry soon to be added
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Updated by Brian Bowery