FOLK COLLECTION 11: The Skaggs Foundation Cowboy Poetry Collection
29769 results found for "No Search Criteria Set"Book Title
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Author
Poem Title
First Lines
Keywords
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
Vess Quinlan
After the gather
The best of it comes after the gather when finally alone, withrested horses, you saddle up to look for the wise old girls
The troub
FC 11 Q-01
18
Vess Quinlan
The old hands
It's good to set and listen to their talk of long ago
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
20
Vess Quinlan
The herd improvement
Come on, the old man said, you might learn something. So it was that I ignored the foreman's orders, left a corral gate sagging and an empty kindling box.
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
21
Vess Quinlan
My new neighbor's penci
Stubby and yellow with bits of wood
banker
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
23
Vess Quinlan
Working man's bars
There are thousands in Colorado, with names like The Silver Spur, The Mother Lode and the Blue Ox. I am comfortable in most.
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
24
Vess Quinlan
The eighties lady
You can find her at any happy hour
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
25
Vess Quinlan
Men of the Second
They gather afternoons at the legion to drink and chaff with one another
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
25
Vess Quinlan
The Fraud
He speaks lovingly of war in South Pacific . . . and that he has the time wrong
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
25a
Vess Quinlan
Sammy's Wonder Bar
On a cow town main street there was a small ginmill. Cowboys werer welcome there and allowed to drink their fill.
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
25b
Vess Quinlan
The Melting pot
In Tampa's Silver Spur, a woman half my age shows me her right tit with a gold ring through the nipple. On wonder for days about the tattoos on her shoulders
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
26
Vess Quinlan
The beekeeper
Did I know worker bees only live for twenty one days; that man cannot duplicate beeswax;
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
27
Vess Quinlan
Old Cowboys passing time
After dinner usually around two there are enough to get down to business.
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
28
Vess Quinlan
Old Mondo
He sets porched, listening to traffic, can't see me drive by, might not remember late night conversations in his malt shop
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
29
Vess Quinlan
A joining
Relax old man, lay back your quills. I come not to endorse society's opinion that you are past your prime.
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
30
Vess Quinlan
Mates
You feel good most of the time; some days even like the salty young buck who gathered the wildest cows
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
31
Vess Quinlan
Passing the mantle
How small he was and how he struggled with the work;
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
31
Vess Quinlan
The soul of a cowman
When we had enough of shopping, grew tired of don't touch that
grandpaw, grandson
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
32
Vess Quinlan
The cutting post
A great cedar post stands alone and waits for the men to return
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
37
Vess Quinlan
Sold out
The worst will come tomorrow when we load the saddle horses. We are past turning back; the horses must be sold.
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
38
Vess Quinlan
The trouble with dreams
She followed me to ranches that were a long way from anywhere, made sad houses smile when they hadn't in years.
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
40
Vess Quinlan
Idiom
It is language of the past, a tongue of another time as strange, perhaps, as the talk of bytes and chips, RAMs, and Ks of memory . . . the language of the Percheron.
The trouble
FC 11 Q-01
41
Vess Quinlan
Spring
A gentle agony, not really painful, it does not tear, but nibbles and complains, like a child too tired to eat.
The Trouble with Dreams
FC 11 Q-01
42
Vess Quinlan
Generations
More than casual but less than constant companions. Friends, like our fathers, before us. . . . We laugh sadly, knowing his father's death makes us the old men now.
90 Humorous Cowboy Poety: A Knee Slappin Gathering
Dawn Valentine Hadlock and Madge Baird, editors
FC 11 H-42
49
Donna Hacking Erickson
The odor at the riddle ranch dance
The month was June and the rising moon was encouragin throughts of romance, when that handsome Slim, with a fetchin' grin asked blonde Maybelle to dance.
sniffed, sox in pocket
Humorous Cowboy Poety: A Knee Slappin Gathering
Dawn Valentine Hadlock and Madge Baird, editors
FC 11 H-42
51
Florene Flatt
Last laugh
Bill said to Joe, I need a place to put this scrawny little bull. Joe said to Bill, bring him over;