No, I guess I'm not the man I used to be
Ridin', ropin', brandin' are now just in my dreams
I look in the mirror and I don't see
The man I used to be
The work I did when younger
Is now that for which I hunger
To want to do it and not have ability
Is Nature's revenge for our youthful gullibility
The man I used to be, the women would adore
And now I just don't look good naked anymore
Compliments used to come my way by the score
And now the man I used to be is no more
It's a shame to live life in a hurry
Too soon old with too much worry
The closer I get to the end, the more I can see
I'm just never going to be the man I used to be.
© 2026 Brian McNeal
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She's on patrol night and day
Barking at critters in her way
Squirrels, birds and even butterflies
Nothin' gets past her steely eyes
A big buck deer or the neighbor's cat
Chickens that don't know where home is at
The delivery driver, on his way to the door
Nothin' deters her from her guard dog chore
"On patrol" means bark when she crosses the threshold
Telling the world, she's cut from the guard dog mold,
With a bark that peaks at the topline on the decibel meter
"Beware," says the bark, "protected by a man-eater"
Some say, "She barks at nothing," 'cause that's all they see
But she also uses super hearing and senses that are olfactory
So, does she bark because she sees nothing in the dark?
Or, is there nothing there because she barks?
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| "The Guardian" - by Doug Morrow |
OLDER THAN ANY LIVING THING
The first I ever heard
Of the Bristlecone Pine
When I was learnin'
To play rhythm in time
Hugh's words cut through
To my mortal soul
And stuck with me
Like fire on oil
The story he tells
Of a twisted old tree
Haunts me like a wraith
To the "nth degree"
Five thousand years ago
A seed decided to take stock
A timber-line tree
Strong enough to grow in rock
Where not one other
Would dare to even try
Allowing for that tiny seed
To live and not die
The splendor I've seen
In the Wyoming Rockies
A tree so old
It's the glory God sees
The bristlecone pine
Older than any living thing on earth
Standing it's ground
For everything it's worth
Way Up high in the Vedauwoo range
Where the trees stand guard
O'er all they survey
Longing for the days unscarred
What stories would it tell
To all who visit
About those who wish it well
Or those who are complicit?
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The farmer wanted a crop, and so he had to sew it
The pitcher wanted a no-hitter, and so he had to throw it
The father wanted a lawn, and so he had to mow it
The lawyer wanted a trial, and so he had to postpone it
The millionaire was a benefactor, but he had to bestow it
The cowboy wanted applause, and so he became a poet
Cowboy rhymers, five and dimers, kitchen timers and hard rock miners
He's heard the call and done it all from the pulpit to the pew to Carnegie Hall
Standing up, facing the folks and telling the jokes
With mic in hand, sans any band, he presents the hoax
To hook 'em quick and reel 'em slow
He drags it out like a dog and pony show
The work unseen and time unknown is what it takes to make it work
It's his craft and skill, to fill the bill, and tell the story with a quirk
Write the lines and do it fine, then scratch out a few and redo
Think it through, until he's through, then write again or anew
Finally it all comes together, whether with a story or an allegory
Drawn from the writer's well, tales bold, told swell, like diggin's from the quarry.
When he's done, the bell has rung, he takes a bow
Tips his hat, waves his hand and waits for the next show
Behind the curtain, he's certain he did his best
But just in case, he's got another in place, tucked inside his vest
The crowd wants more, applauding loud, so he will know it
He'll do one more and make 'em roar, 'cause he's the champion Cowboy Poet.
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HEARING LOSS
"What was that? Say that again, once more"
"I couldn't hear you behind the barn door"
The old cowboy told his sweet little wife
Now in his later years, and near the end of life
Over and over he asks her to repeat
Whatever she says so soft and sweet
Frustration takes over and patience is spent
But he's a cowboy and a kindly old gent
So off to the ear doc, in town, he goes
And tells him all about his hearing woes
Doc gives him the first test and makes some notes
A few more tests and says "Don't let this get your goat."
"Well Doc," he quizes, "Am I gonna get by?"
"Or are you gonna prescribe something to amplify?"
"I don't want those dad-blamed things in my ears."
"I've gotten along without 'em now, nigh on to seventy years"
The doc just smiles and pats his hand for assurance
"They're not all that bad and covered by your insurance"
"But have no fear, not just yet, we'll keep this very private"
"Very sweetly, just tell your good wife not to talk so quiet"
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AROUND THE WORLD
It's nice to be a cowboy
But it's more cowboy to be nice
Whenever you choose to annoy
Remember to, first, think twice
It's OK to visit the famous corral
But the shootout was never at the OK
A good day in the sun for real
Is better than a Sunday with no fun, hey
The haves and have-nots have feuded longer
Than the Hatfields and McCoys
The Wyoming wind is always gonna be stronger
Than a windbag makin' political noise
Makin' a mistake is never a mistake
Unless you do it more than once
Learning opportunities only come when you're awake
Dogs that stay on the porch never go on the hunts
Runnin' on empty for too long a time
Will give you worry and grief and regret
To stamp out hunger we should all send in a dime
It worked before, or did you forget?
If you're not pleased with the shape we're in
Shape up and work for a better change
Give up your time, a day a week, at the gym
And improve your lot on your home range
A bad singer is hard on the ears
Bad ears is what causes bad singers
Around the world in eighty beers
And the world is still upset with right-wingers
Say what you mean and mean what you say
To be mean is never a wise choice
Kindness and courtesy should rule the day
Let it be known around the world, we all have a voice.
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When the old rancher reached the end of his life
He left more bills than income for his poor wife
The couple's son assumed the debt
So Mom could enjoy her last years without sweat
When Mom began to decline, unneeded services were terminated
Little by little, most of her daily debt was deflated
Month after month the bills were paid until there were none
Thanks to a caring and generous rancher's son
Then one day, out of the blue, he gets a call from debt collection
Seems a bill for telephone and broadband service was the objection
But that service was cancelled long ago said the rancher's heir
"I stopped service myself when Mom started living at Elder Care"
"But service can only be stopped by the account holder"
"That account was in dad's name, and he ain't gettin' any older"
"We must speak to the account holder in order to end service"
"Soon as I can get him to the phone," quipped the son, sorta nervous
Well, now, it's off to the graveyard and with phone mounted on stand
He facetimes the agency with phone pointed at headstone big and grand
Quietly he walks around behind the lens and hears the grumbles
Then after a while he asks if they'd heard his dad cause sometimes he mumbles
He explained that he hasn't been able to have a decent conversation in years
It's so hard to get through six feet of graveyard dirt to reach dad's ears
But he was glad to comply and let them speak to the owner of the account
Several weeks later he received a letter with a zero balance for the amount
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