I have been reading books again, which is great. I used to read in bed, but I could only read for about three minutes before I fell asleep. I changed my reading time and have started reading a lot more. I am working my way through a book of cowboy poetry, and it is helpful, smart, insightful and just plain entertaining. These poems are deep and ironic, well thought out by people who had nothing to do but work and think. I have been in a similar situation, and you can run a scenario in your mind so many different ways that the poetry becomes obvious.
One of the poems explains the “West” but it’s not about geography so much as a list of habits and observations about the effect the west has on its inhabitants. “Out Where the West Begins,” reveals that our daily concerns are as old as the West itself. Creating rhymes based upon a place that has no worry and has only trustworthy neighbors reveals that our troubles today are as carefully aged as a grudge or family secret.
I have never eaten food cooked in a Dutch oven. I do remember a scene from the movie, “Lonesome Dove” that revealed a Dutch oven full of biscuits. It was a simply created and appetizing site. “The Old Dutch Oven” is a poem that describes the reveal of a biscuit during the removal of the lid from a Dutch oven. The words are sparse and descriptive and could only come from the mind of a hungry person. There is something about biscuits nestled in a pot as opposed to sitting bare on a baking sheet. It’s cozy and comforting, something a cowboy probably needed out on the range.
“The Chuck Wagon” continues the food theme. I like it because it’s short, which is practical because no one likes a long speaker at a banquet as it delays the meal; enough said.
The final bit of cowboy poetry I read was “A Cowboy’s Prayer.” The poet speaks to God and talks of the times he’s seen Him in the nature that He created. The cowboy poet thanks God that his work is not performed in an office as a “weak-eyed prisoner of wall and street.” He then asks for some things, nothing materialistic though, just gifts of good character like kindness and honesty. It’s a good poem.
I frequently think about the past. I wonder what my predecessors thought and how they lived. This poetry tells me that they were just as I am; sometimes hungry, sometimes thankful and sometimes humbly aware of their own shortcomings. I think the best description of these cowboy poets is born by the surroundings in which they desired to live. “Out where the skies are a trifle bluer, out where friendship’s a little truer. That’s where the West begins.” It sounds like a good place for all of us to start.
