But the Cowboys shared song
And the Wrestlers argued
But sat in Lotus pose
For Buddha’s great gong
And the Dope Smokers relaxed
In a cloudy haze
Frozen by mysteries
No Mortal Man could comprehend
And Ballerinas spun
Till the Moon sang to the Sun
Letting tears fall
From the closing blinds
And Jugglers threw balls
Higher than before
Not missing a beat
Not dropping the heat
And Snowmen melted
Because Snowwomen were hot
Like perrywinkle tea
And Bus Drivers slowed down
For the yellow crossing sign
Said Children
And the Taxi Drivers sped up
Because their Patrons
Demanded it
And the Stars sang goodnight
In their twinkling light
As the Moon crept along
With the sound of great gong.
Tag: cowboy
Rock and Roll (day 2979)
Working at midnight
Laughing for free
Never enough
Of too much a good thing
Highways and sidestreets
Focusing beets
Rebels and cowboys
Louder than me
There ain’t an ounce of goodness
Let over from sin
Lovers and earthquakes
Diamonds and greed.
Remain Calm (day 1333)
In the end of all of it I had a reason.
There were two dots crossed off a long list of imaginations
And the cowboy had everything left to lose should it fail.
But that wasn’t the event there that day, you see,
A long riflesman came staggering in as the town watched
Thinking to themselves about a memory they all-to-quickly refused to listen to.
I couldn’t help but think that I was an envelope,
A whisper sealed away awaiting some sort of lucky ticket holder.
My eyes remained calm as time’s length pushed on.
Crimson was the colour of noon’s high sun.
Picking pockets like a Bazaar thief in Catholic quarters;
The city clinched tighter.
There once was an island inside of my dreams,
Floating with unseen amounts of impossibilities.
I was homesick. I wasn’t allowed to be there anymore.
So for now they sang, in cool shade of a willow tree.
And a stable meant for their local butcher
Fed the gatherers, who all at once came.
Dust kicked up my hallow heart’s worms and sheered into the edge;
At once I was offered fine takings
And imagined I was an elder.
Cowboy’s Pasture (day 1163)
Pastures I walk on
Where my window-less remains.
Crickets and butterflies,
Like this dusty ramblin-rose.
I am not a soldier,
Bandaged up and bruised,
I am a the lone cowboy
Pictured and framed.
It escapes the wild warriors
With my heart: dear, forever.
Like a copper pan at the tin store,
Stars in my campfire.
Cyclical moon which bringeth thy sun:
Boil over warm coffee.
Because I love this way,
Where my window-less remains.
Smoking Gun Saloon (day 1098)
I was gambling at the Big Gun Saloon.
A lone mescalito biting the fat end,
Lookin’ for a chance.
I gambled often, too often.
A riverboat of floating luck
With legalized six shooters
Yelling my splashing soul goodbye.
I danced with happy Jacks
In a smoking gun saloon.
Ladies with rumpled tushes
Blowin’ kisses on good nights.
Everywhere: adultery in bedackled gems,
Fishnet in blackened stockings,
And a room awaiting cowboy’s boots.
I loved her like a riverman,
Steady and full of piss
Navigating curls running this stream long.
And then she whispered:
“If you ain’t out by noon,
I’ll be throwin’ in yer boots,
Or if you fancy another ride
I’ll be you’re shining star all night.
But either way, it’s been two days
And I ain’t seen you high stack all ride.
So if it’s all the same to you, Sir,
I’ll have mine paid: fair share.
So I can find myself a meal,
I’m hungry and loveless,
Waiting on this ordeal.
Now I trust you, and don’t be puttin on,
This was the deal we made, my trust.
Now do me kind and have it out,
And I’ll be on my way.”
Those were the words I heard sung again
As my splashing soul went out,
And the legalese was spitting up
Lead tipped water kisses into my eyes.
Vengeance (day 848)
What’s left is desire curving up and down
Raising vengeance on soiled ground
Pushing upwards against tippy-toes
Leaving questions marks as far as one throws
Thumbs make the trip in another womans clothes
Carefully calculating unending curls; silently she goes
Lips so daringly inviting, posed in a mock snarl
Spreading infectiously around an exposed eye; caught, ensnarl
And here, where blush in subtle tones enchants, nay, flutters a heart into flight
Digging down deep to indulge in a bite
These tones accentuate criss-crossing lines
Making their way in and out of my mind
Exposed breasts splayed out from a white button up shirt
There too plays a belly button housing a tiny orb of flirt
And lyrics written cross her left rib cage
Time has stopped here. Time has stopped and forgotten all age
Packed away misunderstanding and coffee breaks
Shackling the lonesome cowboy with unending shakes
While pushing up sleeves on another silver lining
Another smooth caress of subtle defining
Another asymmetrical button bridling the fire
Of an angel floating about on tips of desire
Sending all exposed reeling from an unconscious slip
That puts reason behind an eager crack of the whip
Pushing (day 730)
I roll around waiting for that shit to hit my head
Spinning relentlessly in this uncomfortable bed
I know not what has passed through this body
Just fumes and discarded waste left now
Memories that don’t lead to filled in blanks
It’s crushing, this deep sadness that spins around
The scribbled out pages of stunted thoughts
I work at pulling out words, but only vowels fall out
Shifting around uneasily like a shy cowboy
Fumbling with vices picked up from long hours
Out on the range with thoughts and dreams
I roll around waiting for that shit to hit my head