Legacy of the Rodeo Man
by Baxter Black
There's a hundred years of history and a hundred before that
All gathered in the thinkin' goin' on beneath his hat.
And back behind his eyeballs and pumpin' through his veins
Is the ghost of every cowboy that ever held the reins.
All gathered in the thinkin' goin' on beneath his hat.
And back behind his eyeballs and pumpin' through his veins
Is the ghost of every cowboy that ever held the reins.
Every coil in his lasso's been thrown a million times
His quiet concentration's been distilled through ancient minds.
It's evolution workin' when the silver scratches hide
And a ghostly cowboy chorus fills his head and says, "Let's ride."
His quiet concentration's been distilled through ancient minds.
It's evolution workin' when the silver scratches hide
And a ghostly cowboy chorus fills his head and says, "Let's ride."
The famous and the rowdy, the savage and the sane
the bluebloods and the hotbloods and the corriente strain
All knew his mother's mothers or was it his daddy's kin
'Til he's nearly purely cowboy, born to ride and bred to win.
the bluebloods and the hotbloods and the corriente strain
All knew his mother's mothers or was it his daddy's kin
'Til he's nearly purely cowboy, born to ride and bred to win.
He's got Buffalo Bill Cody and Goodnight's jigger boss
And all of the brave blue soldiers that General Custer lost
The ghost of Pancho Villa, Sittin' Bull and Jessie James
All gathered by his campfire keepin' score and takin' names.
And all of the brave blue soldiers that General Custer lost
The ghost of Pancho Villa, Sittin' Bull and Jessie James
All gathered by his campfire keepin' score and takin' names.
There's every Royal Mountie that ever got his man
And every day-work cowboy that ever made a hand
Each man that's rode before him, yup every mother's son
Is in his corner, rootin', when he nods to make his run.
And every day-work cowboy that ever made a hand
Each man that's rode before him, yup every mother's son
Is in his corner, rootin', when he nods to make his run.
Freckles Brown might pull his bull rope,
Casey Tibbs might jerk the flank,
Bill Pickett might be hazin' when he starts to turn the crank.
Plus Remington and Russell lookin' down his buckhorn sight
All watchin' through the window of this cowboy's eyes tonight.
Casey Tibbs might jerk the flank,
Bill Pickett might be hazin' when he starts to turn the crank.
Plus Remington and Russell lookin' down his buckhorn sight
All watchin' through the window of this cowboy's eyes tonight.
And standin' in the catch pen or in chute number nine
Is the offspring of a mountain that's come down from olden time
A volcano waitin' quiet, 'til they climb upon his back
Rumblin' like the engine of a freight train on the track.
Is the offspring of a mountain that's come down from olden time
A volcano waitin' quiet, 'til they climb upon his back
Rumblin' like the engine of a freight train on the track.
A cross between a she bear and a bad four wheel drive
With the fury of an eagle when it makes a power dive.
A snake who's lost its caution or a badger gone berserk
He's a screamin', stompin', clawin', rabid, mad dog piece o' work.
With the fury of an eagle when it makes a power dive.
A snake who's lost its caution or a badger gone berserk
He's a screamin', stompin', clawin', rabid, mad dog piece o' work.
From the rollers in his nostrils to the foam upon his lips
From the hooves as hard as granite to the horns with dagger tips
From the flat black starin' shark's eye that's the mirror of his soul
Shines the challenge to each cowboy like the devil callin' roll.
From the hooves as hard as granite to the horns with dagger tips
From the flat black starin' shark's eye that's the mirror of his soul
Shines the challenge to each cowboy like the devil callin' roll.
In the seconds that tick slowly 'til he climbs upon his back
Each rider faces down the fear that makes his mouth go slack
And cuts his guts to ribbons and gives his tongue a coat
He swallows back the panic gorge that's risin' in his throat.
Each rider faces down the fear that makes his mouth go slack
And cuts his guts to ribbons and gives his tongue a coat
He swallows back the panic gorge that's risin' in his throat.
The smell of hot blue copper fills the air around his head
Then a single, solid shiver shakes away the doubt and dread
The cold flame burns within him 'til his skin's as cold as ice
And the dues he paid to get here are worth every sacrifice.
Then a single, solid shiver shakes away the doubt and dread
The cold flame burns within him 'til his skin's as cold as ice
And the dues he paid to get here are worth every sacrifice.
All the miles spent sleepy drivin', all the money down the drain
All the "if I's" and the "nearly's", all the bandages and the pain
All the female tears left dryin', all the fever and the fight
Are just a small downpayment on the ride he makes tonight.
All the "if I's" and the "nearly's", all the bandages and the pain
All the female tears left dryin', all the fever and the fight
Are just a small downpayment on the ride he makes tonight.
And his pardner in this madness that the cowboy's call a game
Is a ton of buckin' thunder bent on provin' why he came
But the cowboy never wavers he intends to do his best
And of that widow maker, he expects of him no less.
Is a ton of buckin' thunder bent on provin' why he came
But the cowboy never wavers he intends to do his best
And of that widow maker, he expects of him no less.
There's a solemn silent moment that every rider knows
When the time stops on a heartbeat like the earth itself was froze
Then all the ancient instinct fills the space between his ears
Til the whispers of his phantoms are the only thing he hears.
When the time stops on a heartbeat like the earth itself was froze
Then all the ancient instinct fills the space between his ears
Til the whispers of his phantoms are the only thing he hears.
When you get down to the cuttin' and the leather touches hide
And there's nothin' left to think about, he nods and says, "Outside!"
Then frozen for an instant against the open gate
Is hist'ry turned to flesh and blood, a warrior incarnate.
And there's nothin' left to think about, he nods and says, "Outside!"
Then frozen for an instant against the open gate
Is hist'ry turned to flesh and blood, a warrior incarnate.
And while they pose like statues in that flicker of an eye
There's somethin' almost sacred, you can see it if you try.
It's guts and love and glory-one mortal's chance at fame
His legacy is rodeo and cowboy is his name.
There's somethin' almost sacred, you can see it if you try.
It's guts and love and glory-one mortal's chance at fame
His legacy is rodeo and cowboy is his name.
"Turn 'im out"
~ ~ ~
All of the above photos were taken by me at a rancher's rodeo in New Cuyama, California on October 20-21, 1984. I like a rancher's rodeo, they are small and they are for the working cowboys. I have had a special love affair with cowboys my whole life, not those Hollywood style cowboys, but real hard working ones. I was asked once what it was I liked so much about them. Well, of course the jeans, you can't beat Levi's on a nice turned bottom, but I have a great admiration for this group of men who work so darn hard, love every minute of it and could care less about making a big pile of money. There must be a certain love of freedom, having fresh air to breathe and wide open spaces surrounding them that runs through their veins.
The poem, Legacy of the Rodeo Man, was written by Baxter Black one of a number of well known cowboy poets. Cowboy Poetry Week will be celebrate April 17-23, 2011 and if you ever can get a chance to attend a cowboy poetry event I would recommend it. 2011 Cowboy Poetry Week Information
I heard a group of cowboy poets in Hawaii once and I really enjoyed it. And yes, Hawaii has cowboys too, one of the largest cattle ranches used to be the Parker Ranch on the Big Island in Hawaii.
That was so interesting, and all new to me. I swear, Annie, you know how to drum up a fresh post. And yeah, there's something awful cute about cowboys. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteWell, that looks like you took pics outside my door (well, not literally) This is cowboy country for sure! Cheyenne Frontier Days...BIG DEAL (LOL) In Casper Wy, the drive we took to downtown went past an area that was ALWAYS filled with campers, trailers, horses tied up...cowboys and cowgirls..young and old. My granddaughter walked in to my house last night with a plaid "cowboy" shirt, studded pants and cowboy boots (she is 13)
ReplyDeletewritenow...do you not have cowboys, rodeos, etc where you live? It seems odd to me that one wouldn't have that ...isn't that funny?
oh, and Baxter Black is a big deal here! He is on the radio at noon reading his poetry. :)
ah, the diversity of life!
mare
oh, and one Sunday, the minister couldn't preach because he was in the hospital...he was a pickup man in a rodeo and had gotten hurt! :)
ReplyDeleteWhat great photos. And you have great taste -- I like cowboys too! Though we only have pretend ones here in NYC. Yee-haaa!
ReplyDeleteOh what nice comments to come home to today! Thank you all. It's funny 1984 was such a long time ago, all those cute little cowboys would be "cowmen" by now and the little tykes all "growed up".
ReplyDeleteLucky you Mare, I would love to live in the wide open spaces. When I moved to Missouri I thought about country living, but figured it was not the right time to move away from people and facilities, single and 'older' but there was a time I would have done it in a New York minute.
And to get to hear Baxter Black on the radio what a neat treat - he write some great stuff but I love this one especially.
Mare, I am going to email you my digital album of all the photos I took on this little sojourn, you might enjoy it. And there was a day when I dressed just like your granddaughter too, loved my authentic western shirts and boots and I even owned a Stetson hat. Who knew......
Thanks Annie...will love going through the photos! I LOVE the thought of you in a stetson...I must say, that one surprised me a bit! :)
ReplyDeleteHubby went through his "cowboy" phase...worked with cattle, rode a horse and wore spursand stetson..Often times, I would see the guys working across the road in the rain and there would be the rain dripping off the stetsons, yellow slickers and boots with spurs sticking out under all the rain gear...funny now..a lifetime ago...