Cow Camp Poetry

(Upon the occasion of a visit to
an old cow camp.)

 

These last few years I’ve grown right fond
of Cowboy poetry.
It’s sometimes rude and often crude
but it brings a smile to me.

 

 

 

 

These guys would live far from a town
and tell a tale or two
of chasin’ cows and birthin’ calves
while eatin’ Hector’s stew.

They’d speak of Stinky Pete for sure
and often Cactus Jack
and though they’d never seen it,
that tattoo on Juana’s back.

 

 

 

 

But when they found themselves alone
out on that dusty flat,
their horse and dog* just didn’t care
of Cowboy this and that.

 

They lived a life upon the range
or some lofty high plateau
for half a buck a day, and grub,
and a million-dollar view.

 

 

 

 

Raber Cow Camp is preserved on Grand Mesa as an example of what the old high-country cow camps were like. There’s a spring for fresh water and a couple cabins.  This is out on Lands End Road far from civilization and was last occupied in 1966 though it dates to the 1940s. The other abandoned cow camps on Grand Mesa have been pulled down as hazardous.

*The cowboy’s dog reference was inserted simply so I could post the following poem by Cowboy Poet, Bud Storm…not typical but I like it…

Maggie

I taught my good dog Maggie
“Lay down” when I commanded.
I also taught her “set”
Whenever I demanded.
“I’ll teach her now to speak,” said I.
She labored to comply.
And when she learned to speak, she said,
“You twit, it’s ‘sit’ and ‘lie.'”

     *     *     *

The Home Place — 2017

Comments 3

 
Katherine Gregor on Wednesday, 30 August 2017 12:21

Excellent. So evocative.

Excellent. So evocative.
Ken Hartke on Wednesday, 30 August 2017 21:51

Thanks...I seem to be talking like a Cowboy now. It will wear off in a few days.

Thanks...I seem to be talking like a Cowboy now. It will wear off in a few days.
Rosy Cole on Thursday, 31 August 2017 15:05

'O give me a home where the buffalo roam...' A folk culture all of its own on the Cow Camp. A nice glimpse of another aspect of life in pioneering territory. And as for Maggie, well, her standard of grammar far excels the average in Britain. But why should that surprise us? :-)

'O give me a home where the buffalo roam...' A folk culture all of its own on the Cow Camp. A nice glimpse of another aspect of life in pioneering territory. And as for Maggie, well, her standard of grammar far excels the average in Britain. But why should that surprise us? :-)
Already Registered? Login Here
Guest
Tuesday, 22 May 2018

Captcha Image

Latest Comments

Ken Hartke Sofia's Bakery
20 May 2018
Thanks, Rosy, -- glad you liked it.
Ken Hartke I Promise
20 May 2018
I am so looking forward to your return -- I love your writing and wish you well. From my youth I've...
Stephen Evans I Promise
20 May 2018
Sometimes when I am dealing with deep anxiety I find that work (by which I mean writing), and the f...
Rosy Cole Sofia's Bakery
20 May 2018
I just love this, Ken. As appealing to the senses as a painting. Thanks :-)

Latest Blogs

   I hear the rotating motion of the fan. My fingers typing on the keyboard.   It’s Tuesday, 4am. I hear my thoughts in this moment’s silence.   ...
My hypnotherapist said, “close your eyes and go to that place that brings you peace. Describe what you see.”   “I see Green all over, peaceful and ...
To get myself back on track. I am going to try.   A hypnotherapist is helping to quiet my mind. Residue from being hit by a bus a couple of years ...
                        The village sleeps while a few coyotes prowl and scuff through the alley that passes for a dusty street. They o...
Something is off balance. Despite the routine in place, there’s a gap somewhere in between.   Can’t quite put my finger on it. I just know and I c...