FOLK COLLECTION 11: The Skaggs Foundation Cowboy Poetry Collection
29769 results found for "No Search Criteria Set"Book Title
Composer
Call #
Pages
Author
Poem Title
First Lines
Keywords
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
224
Bill Davis
Cousin Harry
As i sat with my cousin nellie 'neath the dear old lemon trees, it was sweet to sit beside her as her hair waved in the breeze. It was sweet to sit beside her and watch the fleecy clouds above.
incest, cousin, sex
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
226
Riley Neal
The Poor Girl On the Town
I had a dear old father once, who gave me this advice. He said, "My son, wherever you go, pray choose yourself a wife.
travel, prostitute, girl
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
228
Lester S. Levy
The Old Tom Cat
An old lady sat by the fire, And she thought no one was night her; There was no one nigh but the tom cat by And she pulled up her petticoat higher.
tom cat, old lady, drunk
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
230
Unknown
The Stinkin' Cow
The sun came peekin' over the hills, To dry the dews of morning; The little birds in all the trees Rejoiced in its returning.
cow, smell, heat
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
232
Various
The Cuckoo's Nest
Some like a girl that's pretty in the face, Some like a girl that's slim around the waist; But I like a girl with the bubbies on her breast, And a road that's easy travelled to her cuckoo's nest.
rape, flirt, courting
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
235
Unknown
Old Horny Kebri-O
When I left home I had good luck, Fourteen maidens I did fuck; Thirteen of them I knocked up With my old horny kebri-o.
sex, wantonness, whorehouse
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
238
Various
Old Man's Lament
When I was young and in my prime I could get a hard on any old time; Now I'm old and my balls are cold, And I can't get a hard on to save my soul.
parody, impotence, youth
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
241
Unknown
London Town
As I walked out on London's street, A pretty maid I chanced to meet. She offered me gold and silver, too, Just to crawl right onto her doodle-doo.
premarital sex, anger, maid
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
245
Unknown
The Sea Crab
"Good morning, mister fisherman, I wish you mighty well, (whistle) Good morning, Mister Fisherman, I wish you mighty well. Say, kind sir, have you any crabs to sell?"
crab, pinch, chamber pot
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
249
Unknown
One-Eyed Riley
I was a-sitting in my easy chair, A-viewing the landlord's daughter; I took a notion in my head, I'd like to feel her hindquarter.
rape, father, mother, wantonness
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
253
Various
The Keyhole in the Door
Last night she left the parlor, I think 'twas scarcely nine, And by some happy fortune, Her room was next to mine.
voyeurism, peeking tom, keyhole
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
256
Various
The Buttons on His Pants
When I was young and foolish, It was my heart's delight To go to balls and parties And stay out late at night.
sailor, pants, buttons
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
258
Unknown
Down, Derry Down
As the crab-louse and the cricket were traveling one day, They lit on a flower just over the way. This flower, being fairer than most of the rest, Was plucked by a maiden and pinned on her breast. Derry down, down, derry down.
flower, sex, bug
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
261
Riley Neal
The Jolly Baker
I am a jolly baker, and I bake my bread brown, Latin derry, latin derry day. I am a jolly baker, and I bake my bread brown, I've got the biggest rolling pin of any man in town. Latin derry, latin derry, latin derry day.
sex, prowess, various locations
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
265
Unknown
The Saddest Face in the Mining Town
"It's the last time, darlin'," in vain he said, As he kissed her lips like the cherries red; And the fond light shone in his eyes of brown, "My love is the prettiest girl in town.
wedding, death, widow
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
268
Unknown
The Irishman
'Twas in the merry month of May And Irishman here landed; He started out to see the sights, An Irishman so candid.
parrot, travel, pumpkin
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
271
Tex Fletcher
Peter Pullin' Blues
Papa caught me in the loft, I'd just finished jackin' off, And he grabbed me by my leg and pulled my down; Papa said, "You gawdamned fool, stop this playin' with your tool, And I'll take you to the whorehouse up in town."
sex education, warning, masterbation
The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing
Guy Logsdon
FOLK COLL 11 L-46
275
Baxter Black
Honkytonk Asshole
I hang out in bars (and) bother the dollies (And) speak when I'm not spoken to, Bum cigarettes (and) flirt with the waitress, (I'm) wearing a mirror on my shoe.
bar, dance, drunk
Stubby Pencil Poems of Great Basin Musin's
n/a
FOLK COLL 11 G-45
3
G. B. Griffith
Stubby Pencil Poem
Sitting on the back porch, a poem working away in my mind.
poetry, pencil, writing process
Stubby Pencil Poems of Great Basin Musin's
n/a
FOLK COLL 11 G-45
4
G. B. Griffith
A Walk in the Nevada Desert
Taking a walk. A small head shovel as a walking stick. There's no need to talk. Except to the dog with me, a sweet Bluetick.
walk, dog, desert
Stubby Pencil Poems of Great Basin Musin's
n/a
FOLK COLL 11 G-45
5
G. B. Griffith
Dust Devil
Scouring the land with no intent to forgive. Twisting and flailing for all it was worth. Somehow knowing it didn't have long to live. A child of the desert, which gave it birth.
wind, pain, sand
Stubby Pencil Poems of Great Basin Musin's
n/a
FOLK COLL 11 G-45
6
G. B. Griffith
Sand Hills
They've stood for many a year. With no fence lines in sight. No scars from roads or any to fear. Absent of manmade blight.
wildlife, food, barrier
Stubby Pencil Poems of Great Basin Musin's
n/a
FOLK COLL 11 G-45
7
G. B. Griffith
Washboard Road
Radio's on but I can't make out the song. It's drummed out by the truck's loud, monotonous tune. Testing the nerves as it always seems to go on for far too long. Our trip down that washboard road can't end, none too soon.
music, washboard, noise
Stubby Pencil Poems of Great Basin Musin's
n/a
FOLK COLL 11 G-45
8
G. B. Griffith
From Your Native Son
To a gracious lady, from your native son. Who's lived in distant lands, from which much I've learned. From their wondrous scenes and the way things there were done. But I heard you calling; it was time that I returned.
homeland, son, longing
Stubby Pencil Poems of Great Basin Musin's
n/a
FOLK COLL 11 G-45
9
G. B. Griffith
Striped Racer
Striped racer, yellow on black. A snake on the move, looking for a nest. A squirrel's hole claimed, whose owner never came back. Tucked herself in for a weeklong rest.
snake, danger, hunt