June 23 2021

Cotton Farmin’ Blues

There’s a red dirt road off the beaten path. Off an old farm to market road, where the cotton used to grow. The fields are all grown up now with wheat grass and overgrown with stickers and careless weeds that suck the last drops of water from the soil that hasn’t been turned since the tractor broke a few years back. The government calls it CRP but mostly the men who used to farm that land just think it’s crap since the market fell out and the price is cheap.

There’s an old farm boy who never grew up who still hangs onto the land that his daddy owned, and he hopes that someday it will all come back and he kicks the tires and dreams of the good ol’ days when he used to drive into Lubbock. He would take his guitar to some college bar and sing his songs and people would dance and he would drink his beer and he had no fear and life was good and he thought that he would do things that nobody else ever could.

Oh how he wished he was more like his daddy was, how he worked hard all his life with just his strong back and little sleep.

Out there on that fallen farm where the sky is as big as Texas is wide he thinks hard about starting again.

And out of nowhere here comes the wind and there’s a trickle of water from and old windmill and the dirt fills his eyes and ears and he steps inside of an old metal barn. A big hoot owl takes a dive to catch a mouse with big wide eyes and the feathers fly.

He sucks in a big breath of air and life is good again if only for a time.

In his pocket he finds a dime and he pulls it out and heads or tails and he makes his wish and son of a bitch and its back to farmin’ again.

He knew that there was a lot to do and he’d never catch up and the sun was high.

Next year things will go his way and there’s groceries and bills to pay and he works hard to get where he is and he keeps on dreamin’ of his next big thing and life is good out on that land that his daddy owned and never owed a soul.

And on this farm that’s where he’d stay.

Life is hard out on the road when you go away and you never come home and when you do there’s plenty to take care of that you forget while you were away.

There’s time to work and time to play and don’t ever forget to pray.

Pancho.

June 8 2021

Heirlooms and Stories

Just laying out some pieces of my family over time, Want to tell a story, a poem and make it rhyme- here’s one I have been working on just to pass my night. – Pancho.


There’s an old pair of horses’ shoes hangin’ by the stove

Dad said they once belonged to Papa Bill from the team he drove

Said he lived in Coleman and hauled the U.S. Mail

Wasn’t nothing to stop him then not the rain the sleet or hail


My mama tells a story about a man named Zack

He was my great grandpa, faught Pancho Villa Back

Pancho gave an Army Colt he hid away for years.

My mom has that old gun now it keeps away her fears.


On the wall hangs a rusty tool, years of disregard.

Paw Paw never talked about it, Always thought it hard

Upon it’s blade its marked the date of 1945,

Lost his youth In Iwo Jima, just glad to be alive


These old pieces, what makes a family strong.

The artifacts have kept for so long.

Their memories and stories, handed to each generation after

More than silver and gold, these times of tears and laughter.

April 15 2021

Last Day at the Bar

Just a little poem I have been working on, Thought I would share…

The wind was still blowin’ them blue skies to brown

In a place in West Texas, on the wrong side of town

The workday was over, happy hour almost done

A long hard day out in that hot Texas sun

Was slammin’ some cold one’s when out came his gun.

An old pipeliner, just in from the row

I tried not to notice but couldn’t miss the show

Someone told me last Saturday that he’d met her right there

She was a just a waitress and she was dressed pretty bare

Her husband was a mean drunk, He had lots of scars

Did lotsa fightin’ in those West Texas bars

That waitress didn’t come home last Saturday night

She had followed that pipeliner, love at first sight

Her husband was angry and lookin’ to kill

That pipeliner wasn’t worried for that waitress he’d steal

The bullet musta missed that man by at least an inch or more

After the trigger was pulled, It was I who was laying on that cold floor

Blood was trickling out of my chest

I guess I hadn’t been wearing my bullet proof vest.

They carried me away in a long black car

That was the last night I drank in them West Texas bars

March 3 2021

First Year Together

I get the feeling that we were meant to be

I will never stop loving, you are the one for me

You caught my eye almost a decade ago

Your golden hair, and your warm glow

Are you an angel , or just a lovely gal?

Will you ever be more than just my pal?

I saw you the next fall still the same pretty in pink

You didn’t like me, maybe I stink

I had a crush

You weren’t in a rush

I took you to dinner and a play

But romance was not here that day

I longed to see you again and again

Was wanting you so bad really a sin?

Years passed by and I dated a few

But dammit girl I only wanted you

We both grew up in our own ways

Life is so much better these days

A few months ago you gave me a chance

I fall in love more everyday and I’m enjoying the dance.

I originally wrote this poem for Pinkie in 2017. A whole lot of stuff has happened since then. When it comes to Her, I don’t think I would change a thing.

Whew, tomorrow is our First Wedding Anniversary. We were  just together,  pondering where we were at this time last year.

On the road perhaps somewhere between Home and Ruidosa, New Mexico. Nervous as a dog shitting peach seeds. I was running a hundred miles an hour and standing still in the awe that I was about to marry the woman who I knew God had intended for me. I was as nervous as a wild pony when they cinched the rope on tight and some cowboy crawled off the chute gate and was on my back, just seconds before the gate would open and I would be off.

 Full steam ahead since then.

Tomorrow we will be once again traveling with each other. We are heading towards a getaway in the beautiful hills of Central Texas. Trees and water will be a refreshing sight for sure as we live out in the desert and oilfields of West Texas.

We were married in March of last year, just before the Covid closed the world.

March Forth..

In this crazy year things were not always perfect. We had some terrible arguments and said some hateful words. At the same time as the Coronavirus, Texas had the worst oil crash I can ever remember. I feared for my job, our finances. In the midst of it all there were family struggles, plumbing problems and power outages. Even, the coldest month I ever remember.

We survived!

We have learned to apologize. To admit when we are wrong. We have learned to forgive. We show each other love and tolerance. We make up instead of break up. We are happier and stronger than we have ever been. We continue to grow in our faith and in our love for one another. We are stronger together than we could ever be apart.

Instead of running, which was my old behavior, we pressed in. We prayed, we worshipped. Together we asked God to intervene and to remain the center of our marriage. We believed together what I have always believed. This marriage was made to last. With God as it’s center.

A cord of three strands is not easily broken – Ecclesiastes 4:12

At a sonic early on in our dating this song came on the radio. I can recall singing it to her that day. In my mind everything was perfect in the world. A year into our marriage I still believe that with her by my side, the world remains perfect.

The words Randy Travis sings still hold true

I’m gonna love you forever and ever.. forever and ever, Amen….

Happy Anniversary UnNi,

Marching Forth again..

Pancho.

November 9 2020

Reflections

As I was shaving my face tonight

The reflection was a shocking sight

Instead of myself looking back at me

It is my dad I could see

My cheeks are a little fatter

There’s wrinkles and lines for that matter

The red on my head is turning gray

I’m just glad its all decided to stay

This man in the image is getting old

This mirror is going to get sold

This was a poem I wrote about 3 years ago, Reflections of This Man in the Mirror…

Re-reading my poem got me thinking about the Motown single, “Reflections” by the Supremes. 

Reflections” was written by the songwriting team Holland–Dozier–Holland. This songwriting team was made up of Lamont Dozier and brothers Brian and Eddie Holland. This group of writers helped to create the “Motown Sound” in the 1960’s. The trio was actively employed  at Motown Records from 1962-1967. Eddie Holland wrote the lyrics and arranged the vocals. Lamont Dozier and Brian Holland composed music and produced each song. The teams biggest success came with the Four Tops and the Supremes. They wrote ten out of twelve of the Supremes’ Number 1 singles in the U.S.

Reflections” was one of the last songs the trio would write for Motown. It was on the first record to be released under the Supremes new billing of Diana Ross and the Supremes.

Holland-Dozer-Holland were influenced by the psychedelic rock sounds of other groups, namely the Beatles and the Beach Boys during the composition of this song. It was written during the Summer of Love and at the height of the Vietnam conflict.

The song peaked to the number 2 spot on the Billboard Hot 100 the week of August 6, 1967. It stayed in that position for two weeks afterwards.

In 1988 the songwriting trio of Holland-Dozier-Holland was inducted into the songwriters hall of fame. In 1990 they were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The Soul Music Hall of Fame welcomed them in 2012.

Growing up Motown was a big part of what I listened to. My parents, both of whom were graduating high school in the 1960’s, planted the seed of music into my life. I still fall back to these soulful songs as often as I can.

The Motown Sound is still as popular in this cowboys life today as it was when I was just a boy.

Pancho.