In support of the 'cowboy philosopher' and 'farmer bard' traditions that have so enriched western culture since man emerged from being a lowly, grunting, outrageously malodorous hunter-gatherer scratching a living off berries and roots in order to flavor a dismal stew of gopher or barn swallow (oddly enough, that bird has always been called the barn swallow, although barns had not been invented yet since nobody grew wheat to store in barns - so theories abound that the original name was 'darn swallow' but the first person to write down the bird's name had a mild form of dyslexia or something), the Town of Lamont would like to foster this self-reinforcing tradition by sponsoring a poetry contest. So, why not share those pithy 'plays-on-words' and limericks you come up with as you are pushing that same 20 head back to the corral after they escaped because your good-for-nothing brother-in-law can't put up a fence worth beans or that haiku that just popped in your head as you were tilling that last 40 acres out by the Pott's place that, in fact, belongs to your neighbor but you farm it anyway because he is not smart enough to know the difference. Just for the record, the Lamont Grain Growers are not sponsors of this event, we just put their picture in there to prove that Lamont does indeed have an employer, regardless of what nay-sayers like 'Tim from Idaho' say. (in your face, Tim!) So, you can leave your poem by selecting the "comments' button below this article. Good luck - and remember - a day without farmer/rancher poetry is like a combine without shock absorbers - you can still get by - but oh, what a pain in the rear end that would be!(When you leave a comment, select the 'Name/URL' option and just type in your name (or nickname) - no URL is required. That will make sense once you are in there - and let's everyone know who you are)
7 comments:
There once was a mayor in Lamont
A town with no lack of want
Most streets were gravel
And only kids traveled
By school bus to visit St John
The high school was only in Sprague
A town whose name rhymed with The Hague
Lamont's middle school
Was nobody's fool
They knew 8th grade meant graduate
Up north was the town they called Harrington
Whose sports teams the locals could count on
They played Sprague-Lamont
With a casual affront
For every school's bird was a Falcon
I once had a cow
And it was blue
What's a poor old country boy to do
I painted it white
I painted it yeller
But when that didn't work
I just sold it to a feller
But that old man just gave me a dollar
And, oh my word, did my pappy ever holler
He said I should have charged more, not less - cause it was blue
So what's a poor old country boy to do
So now my life is just slim pickens
So maybe I'll raise me some pigs and chickens!
Three dogs sat on the sidewalk
outside the butcher shop
With drooling mouths and pleading eyes,
but no one slowed or stopped.
Wanting for them butchered goods
they lounged there in the street.
They got their share of hostile stares
but not a shread of meat.
"I can't handle this," the town dog said,
"I'm gonna slip inside,
And steal a steak and eat it
'til my hunger's satisfied."
The ranch dog said, "You go ahead
and burgle, swipe or steal,
But rustlin' goes again' The Code,
Not even for a meal.
My credit's good down at the bank.
I got some equity.
I'll get a loan. I'll go in hock
to pay the butcher's fee."
The town dog and the ranch dog said,
"What you gonna do?"
To the third one of their trio,
a farm dog named Old Blue
Now Blue ain't gonna steal,
And he ain't about to borrow
'Cause either way, you just might pay
The piper come tomorrow.
If yer lookin'fer a handout,
here's a trick that works plumb fine
Be patient and look downhearted
but most important: whine.
There once was a Town called Lamont
Whose reputation no sane Town would want
They have 'chess nerds' in the foyer
And just one employer
By what right do they Idaho taunt?
I'm a freezing my butt off on top of this horse
My wife just done left me, can things get much worse
I spend half my dern life looking at the rear end of a cow
And when I drag myself home, I got to eat my own chow
Life as a cowpoke is full of sadness and want
But at least if I'm miserable, I've still got Lamont
Tomorrow I'll rise a full 3 hours before dawn
I want my own spread and won't be no rich man's pawn
But to start up a ranch I need some more dough
But when my wife went to mother, with her my savings did go
Life as a cowpoke is full of sadness and want
But at least if I'm miserable, I've still got Lamont
Cows
More than a burger, less than a friend
Hooves where feet should be, dumb as a stump
Can stand in the cold for months - no complaints ever heard
Got no bathroom etiquette, like the salt of the earth
Jailbird Song....
Spokane street is paved,
where once gravel lay.
Now they think its a boulevard,
courtesy of Grag Parch and TIB.
What wrong with that council?
Facing the mob!
They've come up with new ordiances,
and are finally doing their job.
There is even a Lamont Blog,
Read by people who care.
And a funny News Letter,
written by or witty Mayor.
I heard there was a Lamont Days,
And even Movie Night.
And the new tables and trees in the park,
people say are quite a sight.
The last time I was here
the water was brown.
Now its nice and clear,
whats happened to this town?
Theres a big pole in the park,
and the flag hangs high.
And people get all patriotic,
when they walk by.
AT LEAST I HAVE LAMONT?
Are you out of you mind?
Get out of here with you big ideas you city folk,
we don't need your kind....
Where is the Lamont we once knew?
Where nobody cared?
And the word for the day was "TAKE".
NOBODY SHARED!
What happened to the hoodlums,
and the bad influences taking root?
What did you all do?
Give them the boot?
Hey stop...I miss the old Lamont.
Where has it gone...gone...gone?
Now it will only be remembered
in a this jailbirds song.
Post a Comment