Tag: life

~ Slim…

On By Jerry BrothertonIn cowboy, PoetryLeave a comment

Slim was an old Texas cowboy
had traveled cross this country some
Said he roamed the range all his life
and to ‘Montana he had come

Cause down south it’s hard to figure
what caused so much stink and shoutin
Wanted to see for he got old
this big sky, prairies and mountains

He’d heard about Little Bighorn
where Custer fought them Indians
The Great Continental Divide
and secret Gates of the Mountains

There’s this here place called Glacier Park
with its Going to the Sun Road
By being that close to heaven
could it really be all that cold

Then there’s them three rivers where the
Missouri waters gits her start
And that Russell fella who paints
all them pictures of western art

Sure would like to see Yellowstone
they say that’s quite a sight to see
Where water goes a shootin out
the ground hotter ‘n ole Hades

Not to mention all them critters
like wolves, moose, elk and grizzly bear
Goats that can climb straight up a cliff
perch like a dab blamed eagle there

You folks got this here Chinese wall
a sight that I just gotta see
Thousand foot tall in the center
of a million acres of trees

Got some mountain canyons that are
bigger ‘n most cities around
Herds of wild horses runnin cross
the land make a thunderous sound

At night they say a trillion stars
show thousands of Buffalo graze
They move along so graceful like
through warm and sunny summer days

I said let me warn ya ole Slim
we got things here you won’t believe
But once you lay your eyes on them
you sure ain’t gonna want to leave

Pert near twenty winters have gone
since Slim came to Rockin Bar J
I placed bitterroot on his grave
when we laid him to rest today

Slim might have been born in Texas
and that is quite all right by me
He died a Montana cowboy
in this place where he chose to be

This story, Slim and the Rockin’ Bar J are fragments of this ‘wannabee cowboys’ imagination.

~ Living the cowboy ways…

On By Jerry BrothertonIn cowboy, PoetryLeave a comment

It was pretty late in September
and I was over the Billings way
I was riding fence for Freddie White
on the west end of Rockin Bar J

Well night time can fall pretty early
come along bout that time of the year
I started me up a little fire
and was cleaning up some of my gear

That’s when I heard a “Whoo-up in camp”
softly floating over the pine trees
At first I thought it was ole Freddie
come a ridin’ out to shoot the breeze

“Come on in” I yelled right back to him
My hand sittin firmly on my gun
When in rides this old bearded cowboy
Looked to be bout a hundred and one

Well he said his name to be Johnson
So with that I passed him my name too
Asked him if he’d like to sit a spell
Maybe share a little of my stew

For I had gauged him up to be a
descent and right honest man you see
Cause he seemed to hold himself just right
and by the soft way he spoke to me

So after we tossed down our bedrolls
and we had hunkered down near the flames
That’s when Johnson pulled his red eye flask
we started toasting old cowboy names

Those names like Billy Brooks, Bose Ikard
Goodnight, Conrad Kohrs and Otto Franc
Olly Loving, John Chisum and more
Each name said, we tipped the flask and drank

As all the old cowboys tend to do
we reminisced bout the olden days
about all the things we used to do
and living the good cowpuncher’s ways

How these here youngsters nowadays ain’t
got no clue bout how things used to be
When a man could go from here to there
live and ride the range completely free

Johnson had seen just fifteen summers
when he started his first cattle drive
sixty more winters have passed him by
he said his luck had kept him alive

For him riding herd out on the range
is the only life he’s ever knowed
He said he would never trade that way
for no diamonds, jewels or gold

Well just about dawn the next morning
After we shook hands and parted ways
I knew that I too would never leave
behind me, these good old cowboy days

This story, Johnson, Freddie Keys and the Rocking Bar J Ranch are all fictitious.

tidal wave…

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Monoku, Poetry2 Comments


a single dream might be the ripple that starts the tidal wave of change

~ A Rancher’s Wife…

On By Jerry BrothertonIn cowboy, Poetry2 Comments

She’s up in the morning
two hours before dawn
has done most of her chores
before the lights come on

Already milked the cows
and gathered up the eggs
even put liniment
on the horse’s sore legs

Bacon and eggs are cooked
the biscuits are baked brown
the gravy has been stirred
and the plates laid down

Once the pans are empty
the last bread’s been buttered
the men tack their horses
while she clears the clutter

Now a fifty mile drive
just to get to the store
to pick up the supplies
they have been waiting for

Time to fry the chicken
and put beef in the beans
cause stomachs on the ranch
are never full it seems

After serving the meal
and cleaning up the mess
she’ll ride out to the range
and work beside the rest

She has to be able
to ride fence, rope and brand
just as good as any
of those other hired hands

When the day is over
tired and hungry as hell
the men wash up and get
set for the supper bell

She’ll be in the kitchen
cooking vittles again
Cause work for a ranch wife
never comes to an end

Still in the Army

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories6 Comments

Dressed in denim jackets and bell bottom jeans with colorful patches sewn over holes that never existed, we tried to be normal 1970’s youth. We listened to Neil Young, Cat Stevens, Eagles, America and Pink Floyd. Our attempt to be non-conformists only managed to create more conformity. And short military haircuts can’t be disguised in a world where the length of your hair is a status symbol. No matter how hard we pretended to be friends, it was still just a stranger that passed the hash pipe back across the table. We’d take a hit and dream we were home.