West Texas - '86 Poem by Smoky Hoss

West Texas - '86



Three in the mornin'
ridin' back to camp from the Bar in Post, been drinkin',
cussin', fightin' and shootin' pool with amigos, Mexicans,
just havin' fun, like good ol' Texicans -
Gusto, Schnieder, Byron and me, pals,
and like Jerry Jeff, we was pissin' our youth to the wind,
not once thinkin' or knowin'
we'd never pass this way again -
We spotted longhorn cattle out amongst the tumbleweeds,
like Villa, wild-n-free under the bold Tejas moon light,
filled with plenty of liquor, and no fear
we rode 'em all through the endless night -
Hollerin', laughin' and covered with mud
from bein' throwed in the drinkin' trough,
we hadn't a worry in the world
we'd just have another drink and brush it all off -
Howlin'at the Texas moon
shootin' our guns in the air,
afraid of nothin'
and narry a care -
So, we hit the Wells Fargo along the way
just for fun... didn't get much,
but like ol' Pancho we lit out for Mexico
fast horses, on the run -
We never made the border,
we were just too damn drunk, and it was too far,
had to stop in the desert and sleep it off
underneath those quiet Western stars -
Outlaws and cowboys
we was born to be,
but, of course we came along a little too late
in the land of the once wild-n-free -
We rode that trail often, for as long as we could,
rode it hard-n-fast,
but the times and circumstances they change
and I reckon we always knew it couldn't last -
Memories are what we have left
now that we've all gone our seperate ways,
but I doubt a one of us will ever forget
those crazy, fun-lovin', wild-n-wooly days -

Though most doubt
the wild West tales I do tell,
I don't give a damn,
and they can all go straight to unbelievers hell -
For I have slept 'neath the stars
and howled with the coyotes at the full Western moon,
if I could I'd do it all again...
and right soon -


When I get too old to sit a horse
I'll go back to west Texas, recallin' the times we had,
it may have not been all good, but
it sure as shootin' weren't all bad -
And someday, I'll ride into Heaven like a real Cowboy should
on a prancin' horse so pretty and fine,
my ol' pards will open the gate with a grin
sayin': ' Come on in, we've been waitin' for ya, all this time! ' -


'If our bones bleach out on the desert,
we'll consider we are blessed.' - Tom Russell

Thursday, August 27, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: cowboys,fun,life
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Lyn Paul 05 September 2015

Wonderful to go back and reminisce. Sounds like One Helluva ride

1 0 Reply
Dee Corpolongo 28 August 2015

Seems like lately, recalling our days of fun and blasts from the past are happening to us all. Memories of days gone by, seem to make us laugh and cry, but one things for sure.... as you well said....we shall never pass this way again......but the memories shall forever live on... Great recalled memories, made into a poem/sonnet. Thanks for sharing.

0 0 Reply
Kelly Kurt 27 August 2015

For a moment, I was a Texas cowboy. Great writing my friend.

1 0 Reply
Smoky Hoss 28 August 2015

Thanks Kelly; you should've been there, it was a helluva-ride!

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