Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Cowboy Dan's Poem

William called for a poem, and Cowboy Dan started scratching. Here's what he came up with. He says it's his own take on Johnny Keats "La Belle Dame sans Merci" - (I guess Johnny put that in French cause everyone knows they're more fairy-fied, which, in my opinion, is a good thing.) Anyways, C.D. says that there's always one cow that is the trouble starter in a herd, ain't that the truth, and they always get the best of you. That's why he titled his CD "The Best of Cowboy Dan", cause the best had already been gotten of him. I always wondered what that bulge in his saddlebag was. Turns out it's a copy of The Norton Anthology of English Literature. Who knew. But Cowboy Dan says, just like my dad did, usually about a pie, that, "A thing of beauty is a joy forever."

As to William's 3rd request, about piracy, Cowboy Dan said, "I take a bath once ever 6 months whether I need it or not, and that's the closest I'm going to the water." (Six months can't come too soon if you're bunking with him.) I put this in the comments first, cause he wasn't sure if it was worth posting up front, but here is...

THE CUSSED COW:

O what ails you, Cowboy,
alone on the trail loafing?
The sage has withered on your knoll
and no coyote sings.

O again I say, what ails you, Dan
so haggard and woebegone?
The prarie dog has stuffed his cheeks
and the cattle drive is done.

I see lily on your brow
and anguished sweat like burnt off dew,
your cheek's not as rosy as your nose
and that's dried up too.

I met a Cow on the range,
as pretty as a fairy calf,
her switch was long, her loins were lean,
and her eyes were glassed.

I threw a lasso at her head,
tried for a foot, got it too,
she looked at me as I roped her down
and mooed.

I tied her lead to my trusty stead
and saw nothing else the whole day thru
but her sidelong glance, as she led me on
with that low and erie moo.

Till all that mooing lulled me so
Asleep I fell and down did go
out of the saddle to Cowboy Hell
and this is the sorry story I tell

I saw all the Cowboys that ever were
as pale as ghosts and and cussed as curs
and all as one they raised a yell
"That damned cow has led you straight to Hell!"

I saw their gloomy mugs for whiskey cry
their eyes were red, their throats were dry,
and when I waked, twas on the dirt,
horse and cow both gone, and I was hurt.

And that is why I'm loafing here,
rubbing Parker's salve on my butt that stings,
tho the sage is withered on the plain,
and no coyote sings.

10 comments:

Cathy said...

That's one fine hunk o' poetry, pardner.

Now put it to music, please!

Dan Dutton said...

Aw shucks! You know I sound worser than that cussed cow!

Happier said...
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Happier said...
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Dan Dutton said...
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Happier said...
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Dan Dutton said...

Concerning Elfin cattle, Kathrine Briggs writes of the Gwartheg Y Llyn; "These, the fairy cattle of Wales, were among the fairy animals very closely akin to the Crodh Mara of (the Scottish) Highlands, except that they are generally said to be milk-white, thought in one story at least the cow is described as speckled or parti-coloured. These cattle in Wales were often given as part of the dowry of a Gwaredd Annwn, a Lake Maiden, but a water-bull would sometimes visit earthly herds with most fourtunate results for the farmer. On one occasion at least a stray fairy cow attached herself to an earthly bull, and the farmer succeeded in catching her. From that moment his future was made. The number and quality of the calves born to the stray cow were unsupassable. Never was such milk or butter or cheese. The farmer became the richest man in the countryside. But as years passed the rich farmer became prouder and more grasping. He began to think that the stray cow's heyday had passed and that it was time to fatten her for the market. She was as industrious at fattening as she had been at breeding or giving milk. Soon she was a prodigy of fatness. The butcher was called, the neighbours assembled to see the death of the far-famed cow. The butcher raised his sharp knife; but before the blow could be struck his arm was paralysed and the knife dropped from his hand. A piercing scream rang out, and the crowd saw a tall figure in green standing on the crag above Llyn Barfog. She chanted out in a great voice

'Come thou, Enion's Yellow One,
Stray-horns, the Particoloured Lake Cow,
And the hornless Dodin;
Arise, come home."

As she sang the stray cow broke loose, and followed by all her progeny, raced up the mountain-side to the fairy lady. The farmer followed frantically after them, only to see them surrounding the green lady, who formed them into ranks and led them down into the dark waters of the lake. She waved her hand derisively to the farmer, and she and her herd disappeared into the dark waters, leaving only a cluster of yellow water lilies to mark the place where they had sunk. The farmer became as poor as he had been rich."

Happier said...
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William said...
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Dan Dutton said...

And watch for a feature on Cucumbers, Kappa, and Paris ~ coming to these pages soon!