Seems these days there’s a million shows,
of every make and every kind.
Trying to find that perfect one,
it is enough to blow my mind.
I flipped through all the streaming stuff,
I admit I have quite a few.
Searching and scrolling, looking for,
something that’s exciting and new.
After what seemed like an hour,
I found the one I wanted to see.
I leaned back in my recliner,
just my popcorn, my blanket and me.
I woke up three hours later,
the movie played and was gone.
The screen said are you still watching,
would you like to see another one.
With all these choices I have now,
I am afraid I must confess.
I don’t search through them anymore,
I still watch reruns of NCIS.
Tag: life
~Outdated~
I am not made for these modern times
Missouri mud runs through my veins
unspoiled country air flows through my lungs.
my roots are intertwined in the bedrock of culture,
traditions and folklore of a pioneer Midwest
My heart beats with the rhythm
of wind through oak trees
the sway of golden wheat
the steady fall of summer rain
on metal porch roofs
My voice is the sound
of pickup trucks on gravel roads
tractors plowing through gumbo
the hoot of owls from leaning red barns.
the yip of foxes or the howl of coyotes from
across green pastures under full moon’s glow
trumpeting of a rooster greeting the day
songs of blue jays, cardinals, red wing blackbirds
caw of crows pecking through early snow
on harvested corn fields
beat of horse hooves
lazy bawling of cows
My nostril are filled with the smell of
wildflower meadows, fresh baled hay
alfalfa, soybeans, and apple blossoms
I am lightning bugs on summer’s eve
coon hounds asleep on sunlit porches
family picnics on red checkered tablecloths
horseshoes, freeze tag and kick the can
I am unlocked doors and open windows
rocking chairs and back porch swings
I am outdated
~She’s Been Here Before~
Once green and firm,
she danced,
on the boughs edge.
Whirling and dipping,
through the breezes,
of changing seasons.
She basked,
in hot summer suns.
Rejoicing in the adulation,
heaped upon her,
as she selfishly,
provided shade,
and shelter
to all who sought it.
Asking for nothing,
needing no one.
Autumn days,
stroked her ego,
into maturity.
transforming her,
into the envy of
artists and poets,
sages and prophets,
wise men and clerics.
But the chill of winter’s age,
dried and wrinkled her,
she fell,
dying.
Until all that remains,
of her once majestic existence,
is a final crumbling gasp,
under the heels of,
marching boots.
A Drive Around My Hometown
The house I was born in,
used to stand right here.
I was just one more hungry child
destined to grow old and die.
Right here in this schoolyard,
I learned life’s valuable lessons.
The more you have,
the more you get,
the more you want.
Here’s the church,
that taught me,
no one cared,
about lost souls.
Only how much,
is in the collection,
plate.
This is the highway,
where I found out,
if I went too far.
I would never,
make it back.
No matter how hard I try
~ Cowboy Life Ain’t Dead ~
They said the cowboy way of living
has withered away and is long gone
Least that’s what I seen in the movies
and heard in all them old country songs
They tell me bout how them olden days
and the way cowboy’s life used to be
Is now just faded pages in books
of folklore and revered history
So I headed out to Montana
so that maybe I might understand
just how them old cowboys could make it
livin their life out there on the land
Well lo and behold I could hardly
believe the things these eyes of mine saw
To my surprise you see, all them old
cowboy ways weren’t gone after all
They are still out cowpokin’ just like
time for them has never had to change
Still a ropin, ridin and brandin
and pushing them cows across the range
Still searching for a few straying cows
from rugged canyons, mountains and streams
A rounding them all together for
dehorning and branding so it seems
Still bustin all them onry ole broncs
that’s as wild as the hot prairie wind
Out riding alone along miles of
them fences looking for breaks to mend
Still singing all those old cowboy songs
while gathered around the campfire light
A telling their tall tales of glory
underneath a bright rustlers moon light
Still feeling the scorching summer’s sun
that burns the grass and dries out the sage
Giving everything they can muster
for a few beans and almost no wage
Still working hard and loving harder
the way that cowboys have always done
I know I will ride alongside them
because a cowboy I have become
The great life of the western cowboy
that everyone thought was dead and gone
May have had its place in history
but I say the best is yet to come
Jerry Brotherton 