About Jim Fish
Poems
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Contacting Jim Fish

About Jim Fish

TEXIAN COWBOY POET

 

 

 

Jim Fish, a third-generation cowboy, was raised on his family's ranches out in West Texas and, excepting for short careers in the military and the oil field, he has accumulated nearly thirty years of ranching experience on ranches from Junction to Ozona, and San Angelo to Del Rio. Now, Jim is taking care of a place northwest of Rocksprings, where he is also working for the local sheriff's department to help pay the bills. He's an avid Texas historian and writer, having written columns for newspapers, his own cowboy culture magazine in the 1980's, the internet Texas Cowboy Gazette, and now his latest interest on the internet, TexianCowboy.com. Back in March of 2000, Jim decided he wanted an internet presence and set down for five days, sixteen hours a day, and taught himself HTML. He's been honing his skills since then and has three sites of his own.

Jim's poetry is intended to project the fact that the cowboy is alive and well and dealing with modern problems and issues, as they have since the American Cowboy was born in Texas, in the 1820's. He addresses several modern issues that are intricately interwoven in the lines of "Pancho", a poem he penned to narrate an experience shared with an uncle for whom the poem was named. In "The Ride," Jim tells of an epiphany that literally turned his greatest emotional burden into a foundation from which to draw strength and support. It reveals many timeless principles for living through the ages; past, present and future. The, he sorta explains his place on the broad horizon of the land and our heritage in "Heritage."

Jim is dedicated to his Texian roots, the history of the cowboy, our Western Heritage and attempts to appeal to that special place in the hearts of all cowboys, and cowboy-wannabees, around the world. He is simply thowing-in with his skills and abilities to help pass along the heritage and legacy handed him by those who came before, to inform and guide us on the trails ahead. He allows, "Texas in my home, but the world is the spread we gotta ride an' keep-up."

 

Visit Jim Fish's TexianCowboy.com.  Jim tells us: TexianCowboy.com has made the transition to TexianCowboy Enterprises for tax purposes and it is catching a fair share of recognition since my brother has seen the light and wants a piece of the dream, too. We are participating in more local festivals and performing pretty regular for both charity benefits and money! Our cousin, Polecat Smith, came on board a couple of months ago and since he's interested in being a coozie, we purchased (this passed weekend) a food concessions trailer (the TexianCowboy Chuckwagon). We've got a little entertainment troop a-going, too... Sons of the TexianCowboys; complete with original songs, a cowboy poet (me), a wannabe coozie, and a comedian (Jim Bob Tallywhacker). Ever now-n-again we throw in with a few shootists and/or re-enactors an' let 'er all hang out. We're having a lot of fun and putting all our efforts into getting our amphitheater into the first stages of realization. Still a long way to go but it sure looks like we gettin' there and enjoying every step... lots of work though. Still got our day jobs, too... them bills keep a comin' and the kids' (teenagers) toys are getting bigger.

Poems

PANCHO
THE RIDE
HERITAGE

Pancho

Imagine:
You've been on the trail with a dozen-or-so cow hands for better'n two weeks. It's late Spring, toward the end of May, and you've been driving a herd of Longhorns. The sun has slipped below the horizon, the moon is full, it’s suppertime and you've just sat down with a plate of grub. An', boy howdy, the steak an' beans, an’ taters an’ cornbread shore does smell good, especially after ridin’ drag an’ eatin' forty pounds of dust all day. Dinner was a piece of meat in a dry biscuit that you ate in the saddle, just enough to keep ya goin' till supper. The cattle are startin' to settle down, a few cows are lowin' for their calves or just for the hell of it. The evening breeze is cool and feels mighty nice. Especially since you're still damp from bathin' in the river while 'Biscuits' was fixin' supper. When you're about halfway done eatin' someone starts playin' a lonely, sorrowful tune on a mouth harp. You listen without sayin' a word, til the last note has finished echoin’ off the valley walls... Then, a dusty ol’ cowpoke stands-up an' tells ever'one to gather round:

Let's gather 'round the fire boys,
An' rest our bones a spell.
Just bend your ear an' listen-up,
I got a yarn to tell....
You 'member Pancho? Frank D. Fish?
He ranched out Juno-way.
Well, 'fore he died, we made a ride
I still can feel today.

Our neighbor's brindle Longhorn bull,
His hormones would arouse
When he would stand beside our fence
An' spy our Angus cows.
He'd lift his nose an' curl his lip
To catch that matin' scent,
An' when he smelt it, boys I swear,
Across the fence he went.

He gave us trouble more'n a year,
Was sneaky like a cat;
An' damn near ruint our best black bull,
A registered one at that.
We's diggin' holes an' settin' posts,
An' stretchin' lots of fence.
We hauled him back a hundred times,
He didn't take no hints.

Well, Pancho figgered time had come
To let him know who's boss.
He told me, "Boy, go get your guns,
Slap leather on your hoss.
Pull down your hat an' cinch-up tight,
We're 'bout to make a ride;
We're gonna put the fear o' God
In Lonesome's no-good hide!"

I'd worked for Pancho nigh two years,
Could make them ladies purr;
But he's so tough at sixty-five,
His horses called him "Sir"!
That afternoon we showed our stuff
In ways you'd not believe;
Why, we surprised ourselves that day
We made that bugger leave.

Ol' Chief, he sensed a chore ahead,
Was set an' primed to run;
An' Wagon took his place up front,
He's Pancho's fav'rit Dun.
I still can hear them poundin' hooves
As we rode out that day,
Announcin’ to the world, by God,
There's cowboys on the way!

We rode the rancho, lookin' hard
For sign of Mister Mean;
An' then we spied a herd of cows
A-browsin' plumb serene.
Was there we found that bovine brute,
A-struttin' proud an' sure;
A-courtin' 'em for all he's worth,
With macho bull manure.

We eased up on him quiet-like,
To catch him by surprise.
He never knew that we's around,
Had heifers in his eyes.
But when our irons began to blaze,
You should'a seen his face;
He bellered once an' turned a loop,
An' ran for open space!

We's on him boys, like dark on night,
An' never let-up none.
Across the hills an' through the draws,
We kept 'im on the run.
An' when he'd try to slow a mite,
To catch a bit of wind,
Ol' Wagon bared his yellow teeth,
An' bit him in the end!

I lost my reins when they broke off
A-ridin' through some trees,
But Chief was used to bein' turned
By pressure from my knees.
The only thing I had to do
Was watch the trail ahead,
An' hang-on like my butt sucked air,
Or end-up on my head!

That no-count bull, he made me mad
When he run off the trail.
I lost him in some cedar scrub
That ripped my shirt to hell!
It cost me more'n a whole day's pay!
A store-bought one to boot!
I could'a broke his no-good neck
An' kilt that lovesick coot!

Well, when I saw that bull again,
You won't believe your ears,
Cause he'as a-runnin' scared as hell,
His stride was like a deer's.
Ol' Pancho rode a good ways back
But didn't spare that Dun,
Until he stood his stirrups, folks,
An' pulled his saddle gun.

He aimed that rifle straight an' true,
Was high above his horse.
He shot beside that runnin' bull
An' sturred him back on course.
The reins were dallied to the horn,
An' wagon showed no fright,
He musta read ol' Pancho's mind
Cause ever move was right.

Then Pancho's chaps began to flap,
The wind began to gust,
An' fire flew from Wagon's shoes
An' lit the trailin' dust!
A chill went up an' down my spine,
I couldn't make a sound;
Cause boys, I swear, the next I knew,
They'as flyin' 'bove the ground!

Well, whilst I'as watchin' Pancho's show,
My pride come tumblin' down,
Cause Chief had found some table-rock
That went from there to town.
He started slidin' on 'is feet,
Was like he's on some oil,
Until he reached the other side,
An' loosened-up the soil!

That Paint went down an' tumbled hard,
An' I commenced to fly!
I s'pose I got a buzzard's view,
The ground kept goin' by!
I had no wings to help me out,
I'as in the Maker's care;
But when I lit, I landed hard,
On rocks an' prickly pear!<

I'as mad an' stood, an' told the Lord,
"You had your little joke!"
He dropped me hard on everthing
Could cut an' tear an' poke!
My leg was hurt, but not too bad,
I climbed back up to ride,
A little lighter than before;
I'as minus some my hide!

I jumped back down to get my hat
An' check that Paint for wear,
But all I found was dirt an' grass,
A place without no hair.
At least the Lord took care of Chief,
He wadn't hurt at all;
An' so we loped to gain the ground
We had before the fall.

How Pancho laughed when he saw me,
He'd seen us bite the dirt.
He said,"Why boy, you look like hell!
What happened to your shirt!?"
Then made a face as if in pain,
"Your hide is just as torn!"
An' laughed so hard he liked to fell
But grabbed the saddle horn.

Well, that ol' rack of sausage meat
Got scared by Pancho's laugh,
Or found himself a second wind,
You'd thought he had a calf.
Why, he humped up an' bellered loud,
An' tore on down the trail,
An' all we saw for half-a-mile
Was dust, an' his ol' tail.

He finally stopped, the chase was done,
He'd found the wire pen.
He sniffed the gate an' looked around,
But wouldn't go on in.
Well then he whirled an' pawed the ground,
An' bowed his ornery head;
But what that sucker didn't know,
He'as 'bout to wake-up dead.

I drew an' aimed my shootin' iron,
His head I's gonna hit;
Instead I moved it just a tad
An' clipped his horn a bit.
I guess it showed him who was boss
Cause he just stood up straight,
An' walked on in the holdin' pen;
An' tried to close the gate!

Well, me an' Pancho headed home;
We'd found a proper cure,
An' showed that bull a thing or two,
We'as cowboys that's for sure.
He told me,"Boy, you rode the wind,
I'as proud to have you there."
That mean't alot to me that day,
In ways that words cain't share.

I got to thinkin' later on
An' felt real sorrowful bad,
For things I'd hollered to the Lord,
An' cause I got so mad.
I thought I ought to 'pologize,
To try to clear the air,
An' climbed the hill above my house
To offer-up this prayer...


Evenin, lord; ol' Chief an' I,
We're mighty glad this day's gone by.
I cain't believe we worked so hard
On one ol' bull an' got this tard.

I guess you laughed at me an' Chief;
When we began to chase that beef,
When Chief fell down, my leg got hurt,
An' I got up a-spittin' dirt!

Well never-mind, we brought him in,
A mite confused, but in the pen.
The cuts an' scrapes, they hurt like hell,
But Pancho said we did right well.

I come to 'pologize tonight,
Cause Lord, I know it wadn't right
For me to shoot that bull's ol' horn;
But Lord, I'as mad my shirt got torn.

I hope you ain't to awful mad.
That bull ain't hurt so awful bad,
But you know me when I get riled,
My thinkin' stops an' I go wild.

I weren't in church on Sunday-last.
I plumb forgot how many's passed.
But Lord; we got so much to do,
At times it seems we're never through.

I wadn't meant to be a saint,
An' I gotta work from can to cain't
Or this ol' rancho'd blow away.
Besides! You're here most ever day!

Well Lord, it's late an' I'm mighty tard;
Just give your angels my regard,
An' thank ya much for listenin'-in
To this ol' cowboy's sins again.


Well boys, ol' Pancho passed away
In March of 'Eighty-nine'.
He's likely ridin' for the Lord
In pastures up the line.
I'll bet he heard them poundin' hooves
When Pancho rode His way,
An' told them angels standin' there,
"A cowboy's on the way!"

Ride ‘em, Pancho!

© 1989 by Jim Fish
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

Don't miss Jim Fish's January 2001 article about his uncle, Pancho Fish, in the Texas Cowboy Gazette

 

The Ride

Whilst a-scoutin' the badlands in back of my mind,
For to gather some mem'ries I once left behind,
I rode up on an evenin', just shy of the herd,
That was nearly as clear as the time it occurred...

It was Sunday at dusk, on an August fourteenth,
An' was one of them days that took all of your strength.
I was out on a bluff, overlookin' a draw,
Just surveyin' the lay of the valley I saw.

I'd been ponderin' the war for some five-or-so years,
An' a-spendin' my time just a-fightin' old fears.
Comin' back to the ranch an' the ways I'd been taught
Hadn't helped very much with the battles I fought.

So I prayed for the Maker to take me away,
Or just give me good reason for why I should stay;
An' then stepped to the rim of that hundred-foot ledge,
Til the toes of my boots were out over the edge.

Then I lifted my head an' let wander my eye,
An' caught sight of the light of a star in the sky.
From the dark an' unknown it kept pullin' at me,
Like a siren who lures from an island at sea.

I'd a-cut me a trail to that yonder frontier
To be shed of the troubles corrallin' me here.
I'd been thrown by the problems that livin' had shown,
To the point that the scars seemed to go to the bone.

So, I gave her the reins an' the next thing I knew
I'as inside of a tunnel, an' shootin' straight through.
There was hundreds of colors a-swirlin' around
In the rumblin' roar of a thunderous sound.

I was sorta uneasy an' awful perplexed
But I wanted to see what was comin' up next.
By the time I got braced for a ride in the night,
I'as already a-slowin' in front of the light.

Now, the light was a grid stretchin' plumb out of view.
It had bright glowin' beams in a pale-lookin' blue.
I saw stars goin' in an' some others come out,
An' some modules a-twinklin' an' floatin' about.

Well, I knew I'as okay an' saw nothin' to fear;
I just ambled on up an' was gettin' right near,
When this feller in black come an' lead me away,
To a place he'd been keepin' for visitors to stay.

He'as a wise lookin' hombre, a preacher I guessed,
With a long grayin' beard goin' down to his chest.
He had fine leather boots that went up to his knees,
An' he offered a seat with a kind, "If ya please."

Then I felt 'im a-reachin' right into my mind,
An' was bothered a mite as to just what he'd find;
But his reachin' came easy with things that he said,
He just didn't use words to put this in my head…

"You can listen to those who got answers to give
An' can answer to those who make laws how to live,
But they won't ever know all your feelin's an' needs,
An'll bore you to tears with their proverbs an' creeds.

"When the Lord was a-riggin' your body for Earth,
He was aimmin' you'd use it for all it was worth;
For the solvin' of problems, an' for workin' your spread;
An' for buildin' endurance for what lies ahead.

"When the goin' gets tough an' your spirits are low,
An' the end of your rope is beginnin' to show;
It's like loosin' your nerve on some broncy ol' horse,
Where your loose in the saddle an' lopin' off course.

"Well, your chances for ridin's the luck of the draw;
He might throw you a windin' an' scrape you plumb raw.
It's the scars that you get that will toughen your hide,
An' just one of them reasons for why you should ride.

"Oh, the ride'll get wild, if you're ridin' for long,
An' you're new to the ways of the horse that you're on.
Try to figger 'im out an' to lighten your load,
It might shorten the time that your rump's in the road.

"Now there's trails headin' out, if you're runnin' away,
But you cain't learn a thing if you ain't gonna stay.
Ever day that you live got some lessons to learn;
There are things to improve as you round ever turn.

"Just remember that change is a-comin' your way,
Cause it's just like the sun how it comes ever day.
You can fight it, or ride it, ignore it or not;
But it's what you decide that determines your lot.

"Oh, there's ways to endure what the Lord has in mind,
If you open your eyes to the ways that you find.
They're like wages you earn; don't seem much at first glance,
But they'll carry you far if you give 'em a chance.

"Aw, we're childern of God, an' we grow in His care,
An' the strength that we need for our lives'll be there,
Cause it comes with His graceto our lives ever day,
If we work an' attend to the things in our way."

In a shot I was back at the top of the draw
An' was mighty confused by the things that I saw;
But I slept through the night in a still, quiet calm,
For the first time in years, since I left Viet Nam.

Now that time's told the tale an' I've grown from the hell,
An' a many a bronc's had a piece of my tail;
They have toughened my hide, made me stronger inside,
So I reckon the Maker allows I should ride.

© 1993 by Jim Fish
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

Heritage

The ranch on which I hung my hat, though short on most the frills,
Was thirteen sections, give or take, of Texas' rollin' hills.
We called it home, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.

It's did right well in Nature's care, withstood her angry rage,
Survived extremes of drought an' flood: an' made me earn my wage.
The land has taught me what I know, that livin' life's an art,
That all you need is common sense, resolve an' gentle heart.

One day I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.

That mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.

The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when.
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand,
The reasons to perpetuate our heritage an' land.

A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But let me tell ya' something now, the reason soon got clear.
They rode with me throughout the day an' showed me things I'd missed,
Some things I'd seen a thousand times an' some I'd just dismissed.

The wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.

The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.

At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made, has fed us all a half-a-million years,
An' used her constant states of change to challenge pioneers.

Well, now our home is long since gone; the ranch is laid to rest,
Divided, sold an' fenced in lots; the owner thought it best.
That time is ours to always keep; those souls have not returned,
But I recall that breakin' dawn an' all the things I learned.

I do not know if they'll be back or if they'll feel the need,
But I'm prepared to ride the trail, wherever it may lead.
I'm just a spirit ridin' time, whose body's from the Earth,
An' feel it's time I took the reins an' offered-up my worth.

The land has been the legacy we cultivate an' reap,
The life has been the heritage our fathers fought to keep,
An' we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To give our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.

© 1998 by Jim Fish
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

Read Jim Fish's Christmas Time's Around the Bend
posted with other Holiday 2002 poems

Books and Such

Poundin' Hooves is the title of Jim's book and CD, which is under production. Also, just completed, is Fish's children's Christmas CD that was privately commissioned but, by special agreement, will be available to the public in Christmases to come.

Contacting Jim Fish

 

Jim Fish
TexianCowboy Enterprises
PO Box 791
Ozona, Texas
76943-0791
email