Cowboy Poetry and Music and More at the BAR-D Ranch


Blue Branch Cattle Company
Near Byars, Oklahoma
About Perry Pruitt



A Closer Look

A Cowboy's what I am, by blood and by choosin',
I've been the subject of rhyme and song.
Most lean toward the point of moanin' the blues,
or make it look like that my life is wrong.

Well I ain't just some lonesome saddle tramp,
with whiskey on his breath and leavin' on his mind.
But I ain't no pill crazed, truck drivin', fool,
with a cheap belt buckle, wearin' Levis.

All women ain't hurt, wherever I go,
left standin' with broken hearts.
I'm so much more, than most folks hear.
Where should I begin to start?


I'm a small part, of a legend, that started in this land,
when a man kept his word and on that he did stand.

I'm part of the earth and it's part of me;
the prairies, the mountains, the winds, the trees.

I'm part of a banner; red, white and blue,
the stars, the stripes, Old Glory too.

I'm a foal, first standin', all wet and scared.
I'm a herd of mavericks, throwin' dust in the air.

I'm that child, on a stick horse, actin' out a favorite dream,
or standin' at attention; "Oh say can ya see?"

I'm most things pertainin', to honest and fair.
When it comes to my part. I'll take only my share.

I'm a hard days work, for a hard days pay.
I'm more, than I've said. What's left to say?


I'm that rancher, with his calves in, all safe from the cold.
I'm a farmer, that harvests the waves of gold.

I'm a rodeo, where folks still stand, for God's blessin'.
I'm the tip of a hat. I'm polite. I'm respectin'.

I'm the cheers, for a winner. I'm encouragement, to who lost.
I'm that hometown pride. A parade on the fourth.

I'm an eagle, in flight, makin' circles up above.
I'm a fight, for what's right. I'm safe arms. I am love.

I'm a prayer, that begs for mercy and to bless my family and friends.
I'm a heart, that's full of thanks and hope, that tomorrow will come again.

So, ya see folks? 'Can't all ever be said, 'bout the positive traits inside.
So when I hear somethin' negative, 'bout Cowboys...
I just smile...
'Cause I know otherwise.

2002, Perry Pruitt- 2XP
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without permission.

Western Treasure

I was up in the Panhandle, "No Man's Land," in a bar, with a friend of mine.
'Been there, for a rodeo, a day or two. We was just there to pass the time.

When all of the sudden, all heads turned and mouths started yellin' greetin's,
to an old time Cowboy, the real workin' kind, that's always an honor a meetin'.

Now they weren't nothin', but bull runnin' outta his mouth, at first, he dished it out,
   but he dang sure took it.
He liked to be the rowdy sort, I could tell that, by just a lookin'.

Dirt on his hat, pants in his boots, a face that could use a razor,
a raspy ol' voice, that devilish grin, skin that was dark as leather,

Now he reached out a hand, that looked kinda frail, but held the strength of a young man's,
and with that first touch, I couldn't help but feel, that a new friend, was 'bout to be made.

We was both drinkin' "rock gut" and as we talked, we both drank more'n a few.
Then he reached for his pouch and me for my can and we both had a big ol' chew.

As we talked and talked, I found myself engrossed in his wisdom and his wit.
'Cause he'd seen it, done it, lived it and loved it...the Cowboy life, that is.

Now I seen this ol' Cowboy, a time'r two more, durin' the week they call, "Pioneer Days"
and to know he was there, just a listenin' to me, well it dang sure made my day.

Ya know, our lives're just like fertile fields and we all must reap what we sow.
But sometimes we need, just a little more sun, to help our crops to grow.

He told me one night, as we shared some more time and another drink, well maybe two,
"Boy I can tell, that you've been 'round. 'Cause me and you share the same points of view."

Now it's words, like that, that I'll cherish forever. 'Makes me wish I was eighty or so.
'Cause then, maybe I'd be just a little more like him and seen more of the good days of old...

Back when men was men, women was women and children did what they was told.
Glenn, God bless ya and those just like ya! 'Cause to me, you're a good asgold!

2002, Perry Pruitt- 2XP
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without permission.


The "Plain" Facts

I can't believe ya think it means "size". 'Cause the plains really are "great"!
It's somethin' 'bout folks raise their kids, here. It's the mannerisms of this place.

It's the school teachers here, who still get respect and if need be are free to demand it.
It's the farmers, who feed their families and more... 'turn the world, but sometimes no profit.

It's the way folks say, "Howdy!," when they meet ya, or how they wave when they pass ya on the road.
It's the way help and prayers hurry your way, when you're strapped with that extra load.

It's knowin' that most folks still stand by their word. It's knowin' that they really do care.
It's knowin' that when there's just barely enough...They're still more than willin' to share.

It's the place where we still stand for our fight song, the place where the Lord is still turned to in crowds.
It's a place where "Ol' Glory" is still sacred... as we all stand tall, quiet and proud.

It's the place where the word "friend" ain't taken for granted, a place where babies teethe on honor.
It's a place where we all grow stronger each day... and strive for a better tomorrow.

2002, Perry Pruitt- 2XP
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without permission.


About Perry Pruitt:

I wrote A Closer Look, in about 15 minutes. It, like all of my works, just came to me. I've never sat down, to "try" to write anything. I wrote it, in response, to a poem, that someone read me. It was just another one of those, "Well what're ya doin' cryin', gal? You knew I was a Cowboy, when ya met me. I'm here today and gone tomorrow..." blah, blah, stinkin' blah! I get so sick and tired of folks, that don't know REAL Cowboys, but want to follow the same theme as some sad song, on the radio or some movie, written by some half wit, in Hollywood. ANYONE can take someone else's idea and write their "own" words, about it! I figure if ya've got somethin', to say, you should let it come from your heart, NOT your imagination! And I'll stand all alone, tall and proud, for what I believe is right, 'fore I'll ever stand, with a crowd, for what I know is wrong. 'Course, 'less I'm with a group of "old timers," I sure find myself alone, a lot. I'm 43 years old, but with my manners, my ideas, my philosophies and my discipline, you'd think I was 93!

I've had a couple of things published, in "Cowboy Magazine." Both were the story type, and not poems, though. The first work published, they entitled "Cowboys Are." It appeared in the Summer 1993 issue. The second publishin', was in the Fall 1994 issue. That was titled, "The Hero." It was a story, that I wrote, 'bout my Granddad. It was a tremendous honor, to have the world read, 'bout my life long inspiration.

See, all I've ever wanted to be, is a Cowboy, like him. I grew up in Oklahoma. I've been employed, on numerous farm and ranch operations. I currently live on Blue Branch Cattle Company property. It's a 3,000 acre spread, located near Byars, OK, which is 60 miles southeast of OK City. We're currently runnin' a little over a thousand head of crossbred heifers. Through the course of a year, we'll run 2,000 head, through here. It's a great outfit and I'm very fortunate to ride for their brand.

In the recent past, I have made numerous public appearances to entertain folks, with my poetry and "Cowboy Philosophy." I not only enjoy meetin' folks and sharin' my life with 'em, but when I can reach out and help someone, with a fund raisin' event, that really makes my world seem like a much better place. There just ain't nothin' like helpin' the young folks or the senior citizens.

Western Treasure", was wrote, 'bout a workin' ranch Cowboy, named Glenn Muir. He was from Hardesty, OK. Me and him became very close friends. That was indeed an honor, for me.

Glenn had always been a workin' ranch Cowboy. He'd worked for the same outfit, for over 40 years. He told me, that the only time he hadn't been a workin' ranch Cowboy, was back in his early days, he traveled all the way to Phoenix, Arizona, to try out for the St. Louis Baseball Cardinals. He threw his shoulder out and came back home.

Glenn passed away, a few years back. He'd always wanted me to recite this poem, at his funeral. But, I didn't hear 'bout him passin' away, 'til the day they was to bury him and I couldn't make it in time. So, his daughter had 'em put that poem in the Guymon, OK newspaper. Glenn was a very well liked and well respected man.

Right 'fore he died, he had a stroke. They had 'im in a hospital, in Amarillo. His daughter told me, that he was hooked up to a lot of machines and stuff. She said, that he told the Docs, "If I can't be a Cowboy, ride my horse and check the fences and the cattle...unplug them damn machines!" They did. And my Amigo went on to greener pastures.

Ya know, that says a LOT! I mean, what other profession, is there, in the whole wide world, 'cept bein' a TRUE COWBOY, where a person'd wanna die, if they couldn't do that job? None, I reckon. Can't you just see somebody sayin', "God! Please take me, if I can't sell insurance?" That's 'cause bein' a TRUE COWBOY ain't a job. It's an HONOR and a way of life. It's in your blood and your heart. Shoot, I better stop, 'fore I go to writtin' another poem!

I just wanted y'all to know more, 'bout ol' Glenn.



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