I like it, Sideman! I've seen those rhinestone cowboys, and I've seen real ones...one, I think, could not possibly mistake one for the other. My grandparents lived in West Texas, Ft. Stockton, to be exact. I could kick myself for not taping the stories they told! I always thought of my grandfather as a cowboy, although he moved to town after marrying my grandmother. He told the story of riding on the back of his father's horse when he was three years old while his father checked the fence on his ranch. A shot rang out, and he remembers his father slowly sliding out of his saddle to the ground - shot dead. The horse took him home. He spent his last years at the local truck stop drinking copious amounts of black coffee with his few living friends talking about the old days before Ft. Stockton got too crowded.

The last time I visited him, we went to the cemetery one morning. After paying our respects to my grandmother, we went from one grave to another. He told the story of each person whose name was inscribed on the headstone. "He lost everything he had gambling." he said about one.

"She was one mean bitch. I hope she's rotting in Hell!" he said of the relative who was supposed to raise him after his father died, but turned him out when he was nine years old.

"He had $100,000 in his mattress when we found him dead. He didn't come into town for a few days, and we out to check on him. he lived in a shack"

I hope you will forgive my rambling about my grandfather. I think he was one of the last real cowboys. I wish you great success with your song. Cynthia

You moved me greatly with this piece Sideman. When I was a boy on the farm south of Cleveland, Missouri, our neighbor to the east was a true cowboy. I remember him well. His name was Jude and he rode his large farm everyday checking fence and counting cattle. He died when I was 13 in his fields, drug to death by his horse. We were all sad, but everyone agreed it was a fitting way for Jude to die. I have never known another true cowboy since.
Your poem brought back a lot of memories
Sherm

Love it, Alan,

Your songwriting skills shine in this cowboy poem, and you expressed the 'pioneer spirit' well. I especially loved: The stars are his roadmap; His conscience is his guide; Freedom is his hearbeat til he makes his final ride. Ye-haw! You can add 'cowboy poet' to your resume.
Good morning, nathan

Howdy.. Annie Oakley here...

Nice work partner.. no horse poop here! I kin see your understand our pride and how it has been squander by rhinestones and sixpackers a thinkin they are cowboys.. har.. couldn't keep their skinny asses in a saddle it glue to it.

I liked your words and grace. I kin see Dwight Yokem a singin this or that Brad Yaeger from Seattle .. he understands old Hank Williams so can't be all bad.

You wrote this with a tender eye for us lost breed. Few remain and you honored them with beautiful prose.

Yesterday is calling so off into the sunset I ride... eee ha!!!!


Flo

This was a good poem, had me thinking about all these old westerns I watched with my father as a little boy seeing cowboys out on the rang cooking meals by the fire and sleeping on the ground it had a feel of the real cowboy good poem it really gave me alot to think about.

Rowley

Sideman,
I think I'd rather be a cowboy (as long as I don't have to do any more than wear the hat.) This was a great reminder of how we can idolize a way of life without really considering what it was really like to kick up dust in those boots. I have only ridden a horse a few times and anyone who can do this for work on a regular basis has my utmost respect.

I did grow up on a farm and have milked cows, hauled hay(a hot, dusty, itchy job), shoveled manure, worked fields, and more, and know better than to glamorize that life. Still, I miss it at times.

Great piece and I am sure it makes a wonderful song. I would love to hear it.

By the way, if you had space, you probably could have thrown in a few occupational hazards such as sunburn, saddle sores, and mosquito bites.
Take care,
Bob

Howdy, Pardner! Nothing I like better than a good cowboy story - be it book, movie, poem - whatever. My favorite movie is "Tombstone" and I've seen it a hundred times. "I'll be your huckleberry" comes from that movie, and it's one of my favorite sayings!

Great writing here, Alan. You did an outstanding job with this, and you painted a true picture of a drying breed. Excellent!!

MJ

I love your style of writing as I guess to be honest it reminds me of my own

Your definition of a the
last cow boy is great however you might want to revisit the last stanza
It doesn't match in poetic form or rhyme you might try
He's the last one on the shelf
When he's gone so is the light
There goes our last real cowboy
Disappearing in the night
What do you think? Once again great writing
Raydreamer

Your words were simple and inviting. Those same words stated away of life that this great nation has adored since the end of the Civil War. Everyone seems to have a love or at least a curiosity for the cowboy way. I think your poem reflexs is backbone, shows his drive and gives you a hint for his chosen way of life. I enjoyed reading it very much.

This piece almost has a lyrical feel to it. I must admit, I quite enjoyed it.

This is, of course, a revealing look in to the TRUE cowboy, separating the man from the myth. Naturally, the day of the cowboy has long passed, and I doubt there are any true cowboys in existence anymore, it is a warming thought. I'm a fan of western movies and literature, and cowboys are far more rugged than they're lead on to be.

Keep up the good work. You have a simple yet poetic voice, and your flow is undeniably good. I look forward to reading more.

As an avid reader of western books from old writers like Max Brand, Luke Short, Zane Grey, Ernest Haycock and not forgetting Louis L'Amour, plus also having spent many hours in the saddle myself. I have only one word for this. FANTASTIC (or is that two words?) I look forward to seeing your next work.
Trampas.

I really enjoyed this. The imagery was raw and realistic, not the dreamland movie cowboy in fringe and thousand dollar boots. When I was younger, I worked the Denver Stock Show every year and got to hang with the circuit riders. You nailed them sure enough. If you were following a certain poetic style by not giving your last stanza the right meter and rhyme. It made me pause and wonder if you'd tried to do a sestina, but no, it doesn't seem so. The meter was off on your third stanza as well. Tweak the two and you'll have a very powerful piece going on here. Thanks for sharing this. It was worth staying up late to read! I look forward to reading more of your work.

Great job. I am not a cowboy but they have my up most respect. I would have loved to live in the days of Billy the kid, Doc Holiday, and Wyatt Earp. you paint a great picture of what a cowboy really is and what a man should be. What ever happened to the Marlboro man?

Sideman,

Those boys in San Antonio, Texas are drug store Cowboys. We will always have Cowboys in remote area of the Northern United States and parts of Canada.

However, the poem created a moment for me to remember the hero's of Louise L Amour (sp?) and Zane Grey, John Wayne's character or maybe Clint Eastwood.

I liked the poem.

In Peace,
Dan

Well done. I really enjoyed it. The piece flows right up until the last verse. Maybe consider a slight revision in the wording so it matches the style of the rest of your song/poem?
(However, if you were intentionally off-setting the beat at the end: success!)
I hope to see more of your work.

Woah! Beautiful poem. I love westerns and your writing perfectly captured the essence and life of a cowboy. Really wonderful and inspiring. A simple life surrounded by nature, music and an adventurous and courageous spirit. I believe this is the view of most people about cowboys and be able to read this is something that inspires creativity and admiration for westerns and his brave men.

Hi Sideman,

Love your words! I enjoy reading anything to do with the old west or country; being a country girl myself. If I could choose a time to live in, the old west would win out every time.

To live so simply and be happy do it...what an interesting concept for this day and age... Thx for reliving a more peaceful time....! Jax

Cowboy

I love this from Your melody to the vivid images. We use to raise cattle and horses bale hay and fight the weather. Your poem is all inspiring. We sold out to to focus on walleye and trout. Your landscape of words make me miss those days.
Truly a majestic piece.