Groethe, DW – Blog.cowboypoetry.com

THE FENCE by DW Groethe

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THE FENCE
by DW Groethe

When it comes to vexation and ire
Nothin’ gets my dander higher
Than bein’ in the sticks
Tryin’ to fix
Hun’erd year old strands a wire.
They criss cross in jumbles an’ knots
In places God’s all but forgot
Hangin’ from posts
That gave up the ghost
Way back when Valentino was hot!

You can randomly pick any stretch
Of thirty odd feet an’ you’ll fetch
Ten distinct types of wire
Twelve knots and a choir
Of whatever the wind lets it ketch.
As a functionin’ tool—it’s a bust.
There’s no metal in here—it’s all rust
That with one careless stare
Will drop from the air
To the gumbo’s gray mud cracklin’ crust.

A tradition out here every spring,
Says you light out an’ fix the damn thing—
Tho’ any ol’ dope
Can see it’s past hope—
You still go and give ‘er a fling.
Soon you’ll hitch up two loose ends that’s fell
An’ click that ol’ stretcher until
It’s snug tight an’ fit
Ah—You know you should quit
But a little voice says—”What the hell!”—
So you give it just one tiny squeeze
The whole time yer sayin’—”Lord please—
If I can just click one more
You’ll see me Sunday for sure—
Heck!—I’m already down on my knees!”—

But a fool and his wire are soon parted
So yer settin’ right back where you started—
With a mouth full of cuss
An’ words blasphemous—
It’s no place fer them that’s weak hearted.

And rocks?—
The rocks here a thicker ‘n sin
So there’s posts that ‘r barely sunk in—
The fact that they’re there
Proves the power of prayer
Answers many a shaky Amen.
There’s willow an’ cedar an’ steel—
Stone Johnnies—But hey let’s git real
In this fencin’ game
Findin’ two posts the same
In a row—now that’s a big deal!

An’ when it comes to ranklin’ yer craw
Nothin’ beats coulees an’ draws
When it’s hot’r ‘n blazes
An’ there’s nothin’ that fazes
The bugs as they chew yer hide raw.
There’s no such a thing as just one—
They’re like clouds that blot out the sun—
Moskeeters an’ gnats
Flies—big as small cats—
That nothin’ on earth can outrun.

Eventu’ly you’ve had enuf fun
An’ you end up—back where you begun—
With fingers well crossed
You lie to the boss
“She’s like new—I got ‘er all done!”
Til next spring when it’s time to commence
This time honored ritual nonsense—
What strikes me as odd
Is that cows us an’ God
All pretend that the damn thing’s a fence!

It’s the 19th annual Cowboy Poetry Week, and we’re sharing the best of the best.

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DW Groethe has been posting new and unpublished poems for Cowboy Poetry Week every day at Instagram.

Eastern Montana ranch hand DW Groethe performs his poetry and music at venues small (which he really likes) and large. He’s appeared many times at the Western Folklife Center’s National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, and has been invited to the the National Traditional Council for the Arts’ National Folk Festival, The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, The Library of Congress, and other places.

Find more about DW Groethe and his books and recordings at cowboypoetry.com. Follow him on Instagram.

This 1939 photo by Russell Lee (1903-1986) titled “Fence construction on ranch near Marfa, Texas, is from The Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.

Russell Lee taught photography at the University of Texas, Austin, from 1965-1973, and is best known for his FSA photos. Find more about him at Texas State University’s Russell Lee Collection.

(Request permission for use of this poem. The photo is in the public domain.)

FIFTY A DAY, by DW Groethe

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photo © Jessica Lifland

FIFTY A DAY
by DW Groethe

Fifty a day is a cowboy’s pay
It ain’t much, tho for some it’s enough.
It’s not always money
That rides a man hard
Or acquirin’ piles a stuff.

There are those who would willingly
Trade it all in
For a chance to go ridin’ the herd.
Bein’ out in the lonesome
Not feelin’ alone—
That’s somethin’ you can’t put in words.

No—This is one a them things
That money can’t buy, tho
They wouldn’t say no to a raise,
You can sure bet
They’ll give more’n they get
An’ be happy til the end a their days.

‘Cause bein’ a cowboy
Is like sayin’ “I’m broke.”
A purty good chunk a the time.
But broke ain’t a shame
It’s a part a the game,
Just a fool thinks broke is a crime.

An’ for sure it’s no sweat
The hours they get
Will sometimes be tired an’long.
But when they hit the hay,
At the end a’ the day,
What they earned is the sweetest of songs.

Oh, there’s always those times
When the best that you do
Simply will not be enough.
There are things in this world
That’ll flat make you blue
But that’s life an’ sometimes it’s rough.

Fifty a day a cowboy’s pay
More than enough for a few
Who heed not the call
Of that ol’ nine to five
An’ they’ll laugh around broke,
Tired an’ blue.

Montana ranch hand, poet, and picker DW Groethe includes this poem on his Tales from West River album and in his book, West River Waltz. Andy Hedges recites the poem on his latest Cowboy Crossroads podcast, which includes an interview with DW Groethe, recorded last month at the Western Folklife Center’s National Cowboy Poetry Gathering.

In the interview, DW talks about writing songs and poetry, how he came to work as a ranch hand, and more. Find the interview here, along with many other compelling interviews with people who “share stories and discuss music, poetry, and culture from the working cowboy West and beyond.”

DW performs his poetry and music at venues small and large. He’s appeared many times at the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, and has been invited to the the National Council for the Traditional Arts (NCTA), The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, The Library of Congress, and other places. He has books and recordings. Find more about him at cowboypoetry.com/dwgroethe.htm.

This photograph of DW Groethe is by respected photojournalist Jessica Lifland (jessicalifland.smugmug.com; jblif on Instagram) as a part of her Cowboy Poetry Project. Other subjects to date include Sean Sexton, Andy Hedges, Jerry Brooks, Waddie Mitchell, Amy Steiger and Gail Steiger, Rodney Nelson, Elizabeth Ebert, Henry Real Bird, Doris Daley, Bimbo Cheney, Jack Walther, and others.

Jessica Lifland is one of the official photographers for the Western Folklife Center’s National Cowboy Poetry Gathering. Find her gathering photos and her Cowboy Poetry Project photos at jessicalifland.smugmug.com/Cowboy-Poetry-Project.

(Please respect copyright. You can share this poem and photo with this post, but for other uses, request permission.)

FOX WAITS IN THE MEADOW, by DW Groethe

FOX WAITS IN THE MEADOW
A Christmas Poem
by DW Groethe

Fox waits in the meadow
crescent moon floats on the rise,
As aurora borealis sweeps
…..her hair across the skies.
Far off in winter’s corners
reach her tresses, dipping low,
skiff the slumbering frozen,
…..wake the restless ‘neath the snow.
Restless is it, yearning,
in the year’s end looming night,
yearning for the calling
…..of its deep mid-winter flight.

As, on a sudden, starshine
seems to concentrate its glow,
and the bit of ice it lights on,
…..glimmers some, begins to flow.
Welling up and out about,
a mighty castle grows,
grand and handsome, tall
…..it rises stately from the snows.

A breeze sighs through the parapets
and softly off the walls,
as a roar of jubilation
…..rouses castle rooms and halls.
All work is done, the day has come,
for Christmas Eve is here
and elves are busy hitching up
…..eight prancing antsy deer.

Ol’ Santa climbs up in the sleigh,
his hands latch on the reins
as castle gates sweep open wide
…..on boundless arctic plains.
Reindeer rise. And off they soared
to make their yearly flight.
Yeehawing loudly, joyfully,
…..they sail into the night.

Elves hanging on to runners
as they head out on the ride.
Elves pile next to Santa
…..and elves bury deep inside
a wondrous sack that somehow
holds a million jillion toys,
and other nifty goodies,
…..for a world of girls and boys.

(It should, perhaps, be pointed out
that ’cause he’s him,
calls everybody boys and girls,
…..it’s just a Santa whim.)
So anyway, the night begins,
they take their fabled route,
stopping pert near everywhere
…..so no one does without.

A doll house here, toy ponies there,
soccer balls galore,
shirts and clocks, argyle socks,
…..blue yoyos, games and more.
How do they do it? Who can know.
It’s magic sure and true.
Best just believe…don’t waste your time
…..to stop and think it through.

And when the ballyhooing’s done.
the presents given ’round,
with tired grins, they all agree,
…..it’s time for homeward bound.
Now, truth be told, just where home is,
there’s no one really knows,
’cause magic keeps the place well hid
…..from prying eyes and those
who think they might get one more gift
(that kind’s not hard to find)
so things just sort of disappear
…..when elvin folk unwind.

Gates close tight behind them,
day’s light peers on yonder hill.
Santa, elves and castle slowly fade away…

Until,
one year’s turn
around the sun…

We’re celebrating the 20th annual Christmas at the BAR-D (where there are many additional cowboy Christmas poems).

Eastern Montana poet, picker and ranch hand DW Groethe has created an annual Christmas card, with a handwritten poem and illustration, for 25 years.

“Fox Waits in the Meadow” is his 2019 poem. He’s collected all the poems in a book, The Christmas Poems, that will be available in 2020.

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DW performs his poetry and music at venues small and large. He’s appeared many times at the Western Folklife Center’s National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, and has been invited to the the National Traditional Council for the Arts’ National Folk Festival, The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, The Library of Congress, and other places. He has books and recordings.

Find more about him at cowboypoetry.com.

See him at the Western Folklife Center’s 36th National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, January 27-February 1, 2020, in Elko, Nevada. Read all about the premier event and all it has in store at nationalcowboypoetrygathering.org.

(Please respect copyright. You can share this poem and these illustrations with this post, but for other uses, request permission.)

Christmas Cowboy Poetry: The BAR-D Roundup: Volume Eight

…Some say he was born in the snow an’ the cold,
yeller an’ white with a heart made of gold.
His mom was part Angus his dad was a polled
Hereford I hear (er so I been told)…
…from DW Groethe’s “The Legend of Little Buddy the Christmas Steer”

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The perfect gift, The BAR-D Roundup: Volume Eight is a two-disc celebration of the best classic and contemporary Christmas cowboy poetry.

Opening the collection is a beautiful rendition of the shaped-note “Christmas Waltz” by National Endowment for the Arts Heritage Fellow, cowboy, poet, and musician Buck Ramsey (1938-1998), accompanied by his sisters and brother. In two of the many recordings made for this release, great cowboy troubadour Don Edwards recites Badger Clark’s “The Christmas Trail” and top cowboy poet Waddie Mitchell offers his original “Good Gift.” Red Steagall , past Texas Poet Laureate and the state’s official cowboy poet delivers S. Omar Barker’s “Three Wise Men” and the voice of Jimmy Dean (1928-2010) is heard in a vintage recording of S. Omar Barker’s “A Cowboy’s Christmas Prayer.” There are 48 tracks in total.

The real “Little Buddy,” featured on the cover, is at the Granley Ranch near Bainville, Montana. The image was created by designer Chris Waddell from a photograph by Montana ranch hand, poet, and picker DW Groethe.

Available for $25 postpaid in the US ($35 international)
Click above for credit card payments, or mail to CowboyPoetry.com,
PO Box 1107, Lexington, VA 24450

The image was also the subject of a Christmas Art Spur, where you can also read DW Groethe’s entire poem.

CDs are given to libraries as a part of Cowboy Poetry Week’s Rural Library Program. They are also thank-you premiums for supporters. Proceeds from CDs offered to the public are used for the next year’s compilation and the Rural Library Program.

We’ll be sharing more poems from The BAR-D Roundup: Volume Eight during this year’s 20th annual Christmas at the BAR-D.

Every year’s CD includes a radio public service announcement about the Center for Western and Cowboy Poetry. For this CD, it is delivered by ranch-raised rodeo broadcaster Totsie Slover.

The BAR-D Roundup cover images are usually vintage photos of poets or their forebears. This special Christmas collection veers slightly from that tradition with a photo of “Little Buddy” a steer from the Granley Ranch near Bainville, Montana (thanks to poet, picker, and ranch hand DW Groethe). Inside is a photograph of the annual live Nativity at Dick Noble and Jim and Tina Noble Nelson’s Flying U Ranch, in Cora, Wyoming.

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Find more about the Christmas CD at CowboyPoetry.com.

There were ten volumes of The BAR-D Roundup. The current series is MASTERS.

MY FATHER’S HORSES, by DW Groethe

MY FATHER’S HORSES
by DW Groethe

It must’ve been a day
for peace an’ reverie
When my father took a pencil in his hand
an’ scribed upon his notebook,
all the horses that he’d had
when growin’ up in West Dakota land.

I can see him sittin’, thoughtful,
soft smile in his eyes,
As the ponies pranced before him, once again.
Then he jotted each one down,
with a slow an’ careful hand.
Sometimes, horses, can count right up with kin.

Tobe, Frank an’ Muggins,
Daisy I an’ Daisy II,
(his mem’ry felt a breeze that stirred their manes.)
Charlie, Chub an’ Pearl
found their way up to the front
an’ back once more upon the dusty plains.

Prince I an’ II an’ Mike
come lopin’ lightly into view,
he penned their mem’ries, gentle on the page…
a-waitin’ an’ a thinkin’,
he was missin’…just a few
when Queen an’ May neared, nickerin’ thru the sage.

An’ finally, down the draw,
come Thunder, Buck an’ Bill
a’flyin’ like the wind an’ they was one.
then he eased back in his chair,
contemplatin’ all that’s there,
his gatherin’ of the old bunch was all done.

Yeah…it must’ve been a day
of peace an’ reverie,
in his office, at a desk of metal gray,
when the ol’ man made a tally
a-gatherin’ up his cavvy,
One last time, a-fore they slipped away.

Eastern Montana ranch hand, poet, and picker DW Groethe told us about this popular poem’s inspiration, “Among the many things I inherited from my father was a box of items from his office desk. In it there was a handful of pens and pencils and a small pocket notebook…On the first page he’d written the names of sixteen horses…the horses he’d grown up with back in the twenties and thirties. I wish I could remember all the
stories he had about them. As it is, all I have is a page in an old worn notebook and a poem to honor their memories.”

This beautiful June, 2015 photograph is by John Michael Reedy, Montana photographer, songwriter, musician, and poet. Pictured along with the horses are his offspring, the impressively talented Brigid and Johnny Reedy. The young Reedys are just back from performing at the Montana Folk Festival. They perform at events across the West, including the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering.

See Brigid and Johnny Reedy at the 10th annual Lost N Lava Cowboy Gathering, September 20-21, 2019 and they’ll be at the Texas Hill Country Cowboy Gathering, November 8-9, 2019 in Fredericksburg.

See additional impressive photography at John Reedy’s site. Find more about him at cowboypoetry.com and visit twistedcowboy.com.

(Please respect copyright. You can share this poem and image with this post, but please request permission for other uses.)

YEARLIN’ HEIFERS—PART I, by DW Groethe

YEARLIN’ HEIFERS—PART I
by DW Groethe

How they love to go a neighborin’
and seek more scenic bits of range.
I think, perhaps, they’ve joined
some kind of herbivore exchange.
No matter—
Every clip had better be in place
and hangin’ tight and true.
Best tap them staples exter good
so the girls ain’t slippin’ thru.

Their whole reason for existence,
till you get that yearlin’ bull,
is to poke an’ test and stretch your wire
an’ patience to the full.
I beat ’em once to a saggin’ line
before they made their break,
I know, that sounds outrageous
but it’s the truth for heaven’s sake.

I was snuggin’ up the wire
’bout to tie that little loop
when I gets this eerie feelin’
I just joined a bigger group.
So, I kinda ease my eyes around
to get a better glance
and what I see are strainin’necks and heads
all in a bovine trance.
Starin’ like no tomorrow
their mouths a slowly chewin’
and I swear a listenin’ close
I heard a voice say, “Whatcha doin’?”

“Hah,” I cried “Get outa here!
Yer givin’ me the willies!”
And “Poof!” recedin’ heifer butts,
I’m feelin’ pretty silly.
‘Cause here I’m thinkin’ “holy moly”
“Where’ve they got to now?”
There’s nothin’ worse on this whole earth
than tendin’ future cows.

Houdini in his prime could never
disappear as swift
as a herd of yearlin’ heifers
who decide it’s time to drift.
Vacatin’ pens you got ’em in
for places quite unknown
to themselves, or even heaven,
when they get that urge to roam.
I do not know exactly why
they’re made that way, but lord,
I do know this, if you keep heifers,
you are never, ever bored.

Eastern Montana ranch hand, poet, and picker DW Groethe performs at venues small (his favorite) and large. He’s appeared many times at the Western Folklife Center’s National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, and has been invited to the National Traditional Council for the Arts’ National Folk Festival, The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, The Library of Congress, and other places.

Find more about DW Groethe and more of his poetry and lyrics at CowboyPoetry.com.

This 2009 photo of DW Groethe is by photojournalist and teacher Jessica Lifland, an official photographer for the Western Folklife Center’s National Cowboy Poetry Gathering. It is from her project documenting the lives of cowboy poets. Her photoblog includes a slide show of her photographs of DW Groethe, accompanied by his recitation of “Yearlin’ Heifers” from the first volume of The BAR-D Roundup.

Find that slide show and those for many others, including Andy Hedges, Amy Hale Steiger and Gail Steiger, Rodney Nelson, Wally McRaie, Waddie Mitchell, Jerry Brooks, Doris Daley, and others, along with National Cowboy Poetry Gathering Images from 2004-2019 at her photo site.

(Please respect copyright. You can share this poem and photo with this post, but please request permission for any other uses.)

THE FENCE, by DW Groethe

THE FENCE
by DW Groethe

You can randomly pick any stretch
Of thirty odd feet an’ you’ll fetch
Ten distinct types of wire
Twelve knots and a choir
Of whatever the wind lets it ketch.
As a functionin’ tool—it’s a bust.
There’s no metal in here — it’s all rust
That with one careless stare
Will drop from the air
To the gumbo’s gray mud cracklin’ crust.

A tradition out here every spring,
Says you light out an’ fix the damn thing—
Tho’ any ol’ dope
Can see it’s past hope—
You still go and give ‘er a fling.
Soon you’ll hitch up two loose ends that’s fell
An’ click that ol’ stretcher until
It’s snug tight an’ fit
Ah — You know you should quit
But a little voice says—”What the hell!”—
So you give it just one tiny squeeze
The whole time yer sayin’—”Lord please—
If I can just click one more
You’ll see me Sunday for sure—
Heck!—I’m already down on my knees!”—

But a fool and his wire are soon parted
So yer settin’ right back where you started—
With a mouth full of cuss
An’ words blasphemous—
It’s no place fer them that’s weak hearted.

Eastern Montana ranch hand DW Groethe performs his poetry and music at venues small (which he really likes) and large. He’s appeared many times at the Western Folklife Center’s National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, and has been invited to the the National Traditional Council for the Arts’ National Folk Festival, The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, The Library of Congress, and other places.

Find more about DW Groethe and his books and recordings at cowboypoetry.com. Follow him on Instagram.

This photograph of DW Groethe with the multi-talented Brigid Reedy is by photojournalist Jessica Lifland, from earlier this year at the Western Folklife Center’s National Cowboy Poetry Gathering.

Find more of Jessica Lifland’s photographs at her site, including photos from the 2019 gathering here.

Don’t miss the photos from her Cowboy Poetry Project, with galleries of photographs of DW Groethe, Wallace McRae, Jerry Brooks, Waddie Mitchell, Andy Hedges, Rodney Nelson, Doris Daley, Amy Hale Auker and Gail Steiger, Bimbo Cheney, the late Elizabeth Ebert, and many others.

(Please respect copyright. You can share this poem and image with this post, but request permission for other uses.)