Writing a Cowboy Poem:

Although I have never owned a cow, and I drove my first farm tractor just a few years ago, I still had fun writing the cowboy poem below. Mark Twain said, and I paraphrase loosely, that a man who tries to carry home a cat by the tail learns a lot more than a man who just reads about it. I agree, and I hope you will have fun writing your poem. Although you have freedom as to form and content, you should try to capture the spirit and attitude of contemporary cowboy poetry. Note that I attempted to follow a particular stanza pattern, use relevant diction, and put in a bit of humor--all quite common to the form. If you need more advice on how to write a poem, visit the other linked cowboy poetry sites. Here are a few general rules to get you started:

1. Make sure your poem has a purpose for its existence (it should convey a relevant message).
2. Read your poem outloud a few times (really listen to it and check it against rules 3-4)
3. Are the images old or fresh (fresh is much better!)
4. Is the word choice, tone, and form appropriate for the subject?
5. Go back and start with number 1 again, read my poem below, and visit some cowboy poem sites.
   
   
   
   

COWBOY PREREQUISITES

A saddle is significant,
ask any hired hand.
But a saddle ain't a cowboy,
and a tuba ain't a band.

Yes, cows and rope are needed,
but alone they aren't enough.
To be more than a wanabee
you'll need other cowboy stuff.

Some of it comes in boxes,
and like trouble, it's easy to find.
But the guts, the grit, the honesty,
must bunk inside your mind.

Now it's ok if you can't sing,
or if your looks have slipped off track,
But if you're hired to fetch the Devil's tail
you better bring it back.

And if you say, in a sincere way,
"There's a herd up in the sky,"
I 'd grab my hat and holler,
"Look out for them falling pies!"

In other words, a cowboy's true,
and he's also patient as the dust.
He can wait in line for his biscuit
or watch the barbwire rust.

Still, he sure as hell ain't perfect,
he'll likely strut while sitting down,
and he mightn't have two coins to jingle
when they bring him back from town.

And I've noticed some like to two-step,
waste the nights doing agricultural ballet
but it's long-shanked spurs and cockle burrs
they'll dance with when it's day.

All in all, I have to say,
It's a lifestyle that's under siege.
there's more business cards than branding irons
and bankers hold the deeds.

Still, if I was young, and full of spunk,
I'd ride that road of leather,
but I'm too old, and I'm too cold
for stampeding cows and blizzard weather.