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Death Poems About Cowboy

Cowboy death poems and poems about death for Cowboy. Read and share these heartfelt Cowboy death poems with loved ones, friends and family members. Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for non-death related poems or Cowboy Poems.

Poem Details | by Tirzah Conway |
Categories: adventure, courage, cowboy-western, death, devotion, faith, sympathy,

My Gun

I feel for the miserable day,
They try to take MY gun away…



Poem Details | by Tirzah Conway |
Categories: adventure, angst, brother, confusion, cowboy-western, death, dedication, devotion, fantasy, friendship, funeral, hope, life, loss,

Tombstone - Like The Four Horsemen

they walked along
weathered, carrying their guns;
like the four horsemen…

down to the O.K.
guns blazing, bullets flying;
smoke clears, the strong stand…

Poem Details | by Kieran Pavlick |
Categories: death,

TENDERFOOT

 

Sun Furnace desiccating.

Man and Beast moving,

In crazed circles of Corral Mirages

Seeking shade.

Moisture-less Sky and Land.

Buzzards, certain of,

Meat Jerky repasts. 

Timing air currents,

Until the Western Buffet

Is finally stocked.




Poem Details | by Smail Poems |
Categories: adventure, animal, april, autumn, baby, beautiful, beauty, business, caregiving, child, childhood, cowboy-western, dad, dance, dark, death, dedication, devotion, dream, easter, education, faith, family, flower, food, happiness, happy, life, love, miracle, mystery, people, rain, science, seasons, summer, thank you, thanksgiving, tree, tribute, uplifting, work,

Work

Work.
Toil.
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
Corn. 
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
Work. 
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.


©Demand4poetry
21 February 2013


Poem Details | by Vee Bdosa |
Categories: angst, black african american, cowboy-western, death, imagination, life, natural disasters, nature, on work and working, philosophy, political, visionary, war, wedding, life, world, life, time,

Only The Strong Will Survive

       ONLY THE STRONG WILL SURVIVE
God gives not peace, it's only dreamt by man,
in all the world ,brought from catastrophe,
all things are made, since time was first began
by things upheaved so new life comes to be.

The weak must fail, be eaten by the strong,
and losers die the death along the way,
so new life grows, even if it is wrong,
there is no time the poor will have to play.

The lion who will lay down with the lamb,
will have a feast before the day is done,
and all the world will never give a damn,
nor care about the giants and their fun.

        The hunter takes his aim and fells the dove
          the weak in life are only dreaming of.

Poem Details | by MARGARITA VERA |
Categories: adventure, animals, childhood, daughter, death, fear, food, children, forgiveness, friendship, funny, girlfriend-boyfriend, happiness, hope, life, loss, love, mother, music, peace, romance, love,

Untitled

Tainted love 
or tired love?
Smug attitudes
and weak games
Look at you!
Your such a lame!
Me cry?! Ha! Not no more!
NOT EVER!
Five point five years
What a joke?!
All you do is lie
Keep smoking your life away!
Wake up before its too late!
Before this love turns into hate!
Your too old to act this way!
Your too comfortable
You cant stay!
In my life!
In my way!
Goodbye to you!!!

Poem Details | by Richard Lamoureux |
Categories: dark, death, funeral, boy,

Cowboy

Can you see his steel blue eyes?
measuring you up for size
Gun placed low around his hips
A cigar hangs from his lips

He moves slow and yet he's fast
Those who challenged didn't last
Coffins lined up at the door
Now the losers are no more

You are young a little brash
He seeks honor you seek cash
In the end one will remain
Men choose paths that lead to pain

Young and quick you take your chance
Sadly it's your final dance
He shoots you right between the eyes
You're dead before you realize

From his eye a tear does fall
He doesn't look quite as tall
He just turns and walks away
Another Cowboy's lost today

Shadow's Cowboy Contest

Poem Details | by brittany martin |
Categories: cowboy-western, death,

A Gun Fight





The horses gallop,
and the silver guns fired
one good cowboy dies.



Poem Details | by Angela Wilson |
Categories: animals, art, black african american, brother, business, computer-internet, cowboy-western, daughter, death, dedication, depression, education, faith, family, father, fear, food, children, funeral, history, hope, god, spring, water, god, spring, water,

The art Of Spring

Bright blue skies on a spring day
Fulfills my horizon
Blue birds and robins pass me by

Mountain, trees, and animals
Priase God Abroad
The frsh air bring forth calmness
A quiet serene a waits my soul

Red orange and violets
Represents God's glory
Flowers slowly rise with the sun
And water crickets sings songs of glory

Fresh water arises with the scent 
Of of sweet savory of God's spices
Beach rolls in the lazy tide
I sit back and enjoy it all

The art of spring is glorification
Of all tings God created
He's the world famous artist

He

Poem Details | by Charles Ruble |
Categories: caregiving, cowboy-western, death, devotion, people,

The Last Ride

As he jump on his mighty steed and ran off into the night,
He knew that he would eventually see another gun fight,
His horse would ride like the wind,with his master on his back,
His guns ablaze and hands steady,preparing for the attack,
He knew this day would finally come,the looking glass showed his gray,
When a new rider would wear the badge and keep them at bay,
So he fought hard and gave it his all,up until he died,
Then the town he protected,gave him his last ride.

Poem Details | by JSLambert Mister ROBOTO |
Categories: confusion, cowboy-western, depression, forgiveness, girlfriend-boyfriend, introspection, lost love, music, passion, peace, song-sorry, sympathy, teen, visionary,

-------------------------The Soul I Sold------------


If I seem down forgive me Frowns I carry around live in me When I break you see right through me GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD... The hurt I’ve learned brews in me GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD... Your words so true renew me If only you'd re-design me Take time rewind refine me Recreate the mold without lies I’ve told... GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD... The hurt I’ve learned brews in me GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD....

Poem Details | by Glen Enloe |
Categories: cowboy-western, death, native american, nature, sad, seasons, social,

Shoshone Moons

I am Whispering Elk,
Shoshone.
 
The land
grows dark with white men
like so many ants.
 
It is time
of green corn moon.
 
Their tribe grows: blue knives,
buffalo men, yellow hairs.
 
They speak many tongues,
break words.
 
Yellow corn moon
fills bellies.
 
They still come.
 
Days grow less
like buffalo.
 
We see blood
on brown corn moon
looking through trees.
 
Their tribes grow.
 
I am Whispering Elk,
Shoshone.
 
Our moons
grow few.  


Poem Details | by Matthew Sample |
Categories: cowboy-western, death, depression, nature,

January

The cold wind blowing
Across shadowed timber beams
Death becomes open-space.

Poem Details | by Glen Enloe |
Categories: cowboy-western, death, introspectionmoon, sun,

Heaven's Tick

Oh, the sun and moon are tickin’
In the nighttime western skies—
A man’s got a lot of ridin’
Till that final day he dies.

He rides his ranch a wonderin’
Just what all this days will bring—
Ponderin’ all his finances
Till he hears the lone wolf sing.

He reckons it’s been a good life
And he would have changed no part—
And remembers those before him
That brings sadness to his heart.

Oh, the sun and moon are tickin’
And he hears that earthly chime—
He only wishes he’d done more
With that thing that’s known as time.

Poem Details | by Hannah Stiles-Culver |
Categories: adventure, black african american, brother, cowboy-western, death, fantasy, history, inspirational, life, people, sad, seasons, sympathy, time, travel, uplifting, war,

Wanderer

A dusty old town-so quiet
a man, a traveler
takes off his pack-so heavy
and reclines for a rest.

they dont know his name, they never do
they wont even bother to ask
he troubles them-his mysterious past
leads them to prejudiced views

but were one to ask, for if naught but a name
what would this traveler say- would he speak?
a word, no. a name, he would give them and pass
"Im Wanderer, the world is my street."

Wanderer-what a name
does it signify much of his life
or is it a code- a cypher?
an enigma to his past.



Poem Details | by Maura McGregor |
Categories: angst, death, dedication, faith, sad,

Chew

I'll cut you into little pieces, 
push you down underground. 
I'll let maggots feast on you, 
just to see broken flesh. 

I'm glad you understand my twisted self, 
and you take part of my daily bread. 
I'm going to hang you from 
the highest star in the heavens, 
burning your laughter from your lungs.

I'd be joyful, emotionless, 
wreckage not even God Himself can undo. 
Underground the maggots chew and chew, 
hey girl there I see you.

Poem Details | by Glen Enloe |
Categories: art, cowboy-western, death, introspection, philosophy, old, old,

Visiting the Badger Hole

Oh, the leaves are liquid yellow
As we ride on through Custer Park,
In search of that old Badger Hole:
Home of the poet Badger Clark.

Yes, we come to step back in time—
It’s a historic rule of thumb—
Where the city does not crowd you,
And man can be scattered some.

The old cabin now sits empty—
A last poetic monument—
Proving that words can still live on
Where men have lived and come and went.

Poem Details | by Catherine Devine |
Categories: cowboy-western, death, introspection, life, love, nostalgia,

Still Here

Though you slipped
from this earth 
so long ago
nigh on twenty years
 
I still feel you
here beside me
Hear your voice 
within my soul 

As I walk 
behind the back chutes
at the Sonoita Rodeo
your ghost elusive
follows me 

I guess it's true
what the old ones say
about gone but 
not forgotten 

For You're still here
in heart & spirit
every melody & tune
I dance in memory
with you

(c) September 2002


Poem Details | by Charles Ruble |
Categories: adventure, cowboy-western, death, history, imagination, life, people, timeday,

The western days

The gambler is at the table,playin with a deck of cards,
The gun slingers drinkin sour whiskey,standin at the bar.
The mayor is goin up the steps with a lady leadin his way,
The hard workin farmer comes in to spend a little of his pay.
The drunk is in the corner,tryin to bum a drink,
The traveler is shavin upstairs in the dry sink.
The guns are worn on their sides as they stand in the street,
The sweat is puring from their hands in this noon day heat.
The bullets spit from the guns worn upon their hips,
The slower one will surely fall,put dirt upon his lips.
The normal day in a small western town with no law,
The last one dissapeared,somethin no one saw.


Poem Details | by Granny Face |
Categories: business, cowboy-western, depression, education, fear, food, funeral, funny, girlfriend-boyfriend, health, inspirational, sad, visionary, war,

Invisible's Invincibility

I am an invisible man.
Try and see me if you can.

Shy and quiet I remain alone.
Silent is my voice’s tone

No one can feel my pain and sorrow
As I hide inside of my burrow. 

Shadows consume my body and soul
As I embrace the misty cold. 

The reason for my unseen being
Lies in the fact I hate being seen.

This life and existence’s of my own choice
And I choose not to have a voice.

I am silent. Invisible. Inexistent.
Yet I am invincible, an immortal being

Poem Details | by Catherine Devine |
Categories: death, life, loss, people, places,

Cherokee Summer

Paint ponies by the lodge
White manes

Turned silver in the moon’s glow
Taste of Mother Earth

Burden baskets hang at the door
They hold many seasons

Of worries & fears
The night owl comes

He sings the death song
Your time here has ended

The West door beckons you
Night Owl grows silent

© March 1984



In Memory of Jacob Michael MacCallister
March 18, 1957 ~ January 26, 1983


Poem Details | by Larry Bradfield |
Categories: death,

I'll Be There

Bury me with a horny toad-
A jar of Texas sand.
Throw in a quart of motor oil-
The glove from my right hand.

Just leave the spurs upon my boots,
An' drop 'em in right quick.
An' just in case there's music there,
Throw in a guitar pick.

Lay in gently a dollar bill
In case they charge for beer.
An' put a sign upon my grave
That tells 'em I ain't here.

But I'll be in that red sunrise,
Or in that speckled pup.
An' you can bet that I'll be there
When they say,"Cowboy up".

7/28/2017


Poem Details | by kaylyn manning |
Categories: confusion, death, family, father, hope, life, peace, sympathy, cry,

Facing the Change

I wake-up missing you
Last 10-10-07 feels like a dream
But it is so true
I cry until i cant cry anymore
Daddy God has finally open His door
We had you 
But we had to let you go
No more pain
No more sorrow
Oneday we will learn to understand 
You completed your journey
A boy to a man
A wife and a family
finally you can sleep
im still crying out but i know your soul is at peace.

Poem Details | by Glen Enloe |
Categories: cowboy-western, death, inspirational, introspection, loss, philosophy,

Winter Western

We are far from the hum, but not far enough—
Worlds not of our making intrude – life is rough.

Winter birds are not wheeling in the steel gray sky—
Seems seasons bring questions, but no good day to die.

Unlike black and white westerns, there’s no good end—
We may beat back bad men but die without a friend.

Oh, we all wish that things did not turn out that way—
But God is not silent and has the final say. 

Poem Details | by Charles Ruble |
Categories: cowboy-western, death, time

Fast Gun

I can hear the leather of the saddle,
As I ride atop.
I can feel the reins tighten in my hands,
When I try to make him stop.
I can feel the sturrups around my boots,
When I prepare to dismount.
Don't know how many times I cleared leather,
So many I can't count.
Stared in the eyes of many men,
At fourty feet or more.
Killed many men that wanted to win,
Against me and my fourty-four.
But I am getting old and slower,
My time must be near.
But I will survive and stay alive,
As long as leather I clear.