Cowboy Poetry & Charles Badger Clark Jr.
While Charles Badger Clark Jr. was from South Dakota originally, his poetry was inspired by the alluring beauty of Arizona. Will cowboy poetry survive the 21st century? That remains to be seen. All I know is that it is easy to understand. Sometimes poetry is high-brow or elitist, but the cowboy’s poetry is a simple man’s attempt to make since of morality, tragedy, life, loss, love, and liberty.
Ridin' There is some that likes the city-- Grass that's curried smooth and green, Theaytres and stranglin collars, Wagons run by gasoline-- But for me it's hawse and saddle Every day without a change, And a desert sun a-blazin' On a hundred miles of range. Just a-ridin', a-ridin'-- Desert ripplin' in the sun, Mountains blue along the skyline-- I don't envy anyone When I'm ridin. When my feet is in the stirrups And my hawse is on the bust, With his hoofs a-flashin' lightnin' From a cloud of golden dust, And the bawlin' of the cattle Is a-comin' down the wind Then a finer life than ridin' Would be mighty hard to find. Just a-ridin', a-ridin'-- Splittin' long crack through the air, Stirrin' up a baby cyclone, Rippin' up the pricly pear As I'm ridin'. I don't need no art exhibits When the sunset does her best, Paintin' everlastin' glory On the mountains to the west, And your opery looks foolish When the night-bird starts his tune And the desert's silver mounted By touches of the moon. Just a-ridin', a-ridin'-- Who kin envy kings and czars When the coyotes down the valley Are a-singin' to the stars, If he's ridin'? When my earthly trail is ended And my final bacon curled And the last great roundup's finished At the Home Ranch of the world I don't want no harps nor haloes, Robes nor other dressed up things-- Let me ride the starry ranges On a pinto hawse with wings! Just a-ridin', a-ridin'-- Nothin' I'd like half so well As a-roundin' up the sinners That have wandered out of Hell, And a-ridin'. by Charles Badger Clark, Jr. Sun and Saddle Leather © 1917
Emmlou Harris sings an adaptation of “A Border Affair” by Charles Badger Clark, Jr.
A Border Affair Spanish is the lovin' tongue, Soft as music, light as spray. 'Twas a girl I learnt it from, Livin' down Sonora way. I don't look much like a lover, Yet I say her love words over Often when I'm all alone-- "Mi amor, mi corazon." Nights when she knew where I'd ride She would listen for my spurs, Fling the big door open wide, Raise them laughin' eyes of hers And my heart would nigh stop beatin' When I heard her tender greetin', Whispered soft for me alone-- "Mi amor! mi corazon!" Moonlight in the patio, Old Senora noddin' near, Me and Juana talkin' low So the Madre couldn't hear-- How those hours would go a-flyin'! And too soon I'd hear her sighin' In her little sorry tone-- "Adios, mi corazon!" But one time I had to fly For a foolish gamblin' fight, And we said a swift goodbye In that black, unlucky night. When I'd loosed her arms from clingin' With her words the hoof kep' ringin' As I galloped north alone-- "Adios, mi corazon!" Never seen her since that night. I kaint cross the Line, you know. She was Mex and I was white; Like as not it's better so. Yet I've always sort of missed her Since that last wild night I kissed her, Left her heart and lost my own-- "Adios, mi corazon!" by Charles Badger Clark, Jr. Sun and Saddle Leather © 1917
Range Fire
As Arizona is being ravaged by fires (Pipeline, Double Fire, Haywire, Wilson), I thought I would include a poem of a range fire as seen through the eyes of cowboy poet, Baxter Black.
Psalm 46
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Psalm 46
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;
though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult.
God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;
God will help it when the morning dawns.
The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.
Further Reading
“Saddle Up With Badger Clark, America’s Forgotten Cowboy Poet” by Carson Vaughan, Smithsonian Magazine 2020.
“A Liturgy for Those Who Suffer Loss from Fire, Flood, or Storm.” Copyright 2017 by Douglas McKelvey