The Outlaw Poems Read online

The Outlaw Poems

  By Michael R Jewell

  Copyright 2012 Michael R Jewell

  *** ***

  Table of Contents

  1. Moonlight Riders

  2. Blacktop Blade

  3. Thunderbird Maiden

  4. Deal Death

  5. Cell Block Number Nine

  6. Raisin' Sand

  7. Backseat Bandits

  ****

  Moonlight Riders

  Sun goes down moon rises high.

  Twelve foot prints in the sand.

  Trodden across the dark land.

  A night storm is brewin' about to begin.

  Moonlight Riders ridin' high.

  Moonlight riders on the prowl.

  Trio trouble taken to the trail.

  Graveside Grady on a horse called Midnight.

  Stardust in her eyes ridin' front lead.

  Seriousness written on her frown.

  Six gun resting on her brow.

  Mysterious Mary doesn't like riding alone.

  Love and hate paint her beautiful face.

  On her horse Calico riding second place.

  Wants enough money to buy a home.

  Gentle Genene looking so serene.

  On a horse that answers to Firene.

  Sweetest voice you ever heard.

  She is riding backup third.

  Makes any mans heart double its pace.

  Moonlight Riders ridin' high.

  Moonlight riders on the prowl,

  trio trouble taken to the trail.

  Three outlaws ridin' the sky.

  Will all return or will all die.

  A dangerous life they choose.

  As they throw the dice.

  The cards say they will meet their fate.

  Dealers choice to play this game of take.

  Unless they change their ways.

  And ride their separate ways.

  Dealers choice running through their minds.

  As they head into town.

  Queens without a crown are wild tonight.

  These three ladies are ready to fight.

  Moonlight Riders ridin' high.

  Moonlight riders on the prowl.

  Trio trouble taken to the trail.

  ****

  Blacktop Blade

  Blacktop blade, the tempered edge.

  Fire and hate fill their eyes.

  Don't fight daddy the baby cries.

  That's my son, the mother shouts.

  Up above the buildings light the skies.

  Blacktop blade, the tempered edge.

  Blacktop blade seeks its prey.

  And there's going to be a fight tonight.

  Down below face to face.

  Eye to eye, spit to spit.

  Neither wants to be disgraced.

  Who cares what's all around.

  Two men must stand their ground.

  Blacktop blade, the tempered edge.

  Blacktop blade seeks it's prey.

  And there's going to be a fight tonight.

  The man in the moon looks down.

  Who's going to hit the ground.

  The twinkling of the stars.

  Reflect the broken light.

  Pride is alive tonight.

  Blacktop blade, the tempered edge.

  Blacktop blade seeks it's prey.

  And there's going to be a fight tonight

  In the middle of midnight America.

  Two men must stand their ground.

  And there's going to be a fight tonight.

  ****

  Thunderbird Maiden

  She rides against the wind.

  Outline in perfect trim.

  She kneels before the sun.

  Disappears into the night.

  Never a hair out of place.

  Blending to her expressionless face.

  She is the thunderbird maiden on the black river of stone

  and she rides against the wind and rain.

  She catches the eye of every guy.

  Who happens to pass by.

  Made of heavy metal.

  Her complexion polished chrome.

  A figure to make any man leave home.

  She sets like a queen on wheels of gold.

  She is the thunderbird maiden on the black river of stone

  and she rides against the wind and rain.

  Her background painted purple passion.

  Her name? Use your imagination.

  Every mans' dream.

  While three hundred horses.

  Pull her eight pack machine.

  Reflecting light like a laser beam.

  She is the thunderbird maiden on the black river of stone

  and she rides against the wind and rain.

  No one knows the color of her eyes.

  Never a word from her mouth.

  Only the sound of whirling wind.

  As she glides to the thundering sound.

  She sits and waits to make her move.

  Then gives her silent command.

  She is the thunderbird maiden on the black river of stone

  and she rides against the wind and rain.

  Don't fall in love with her.

  She will leave you cold.

  She knows only her profession.

  Many men have tried.

  But many men have died.

  Behind the wheel trying to

  capture this lady of steel.

  She is the thunderbird maiden on the black river of stone

  and she rides against the wind and rain.

  ****

  Deal Death

  Cowboys and lovers beware.

  Of this story about to be told.

  Deal death is in the air.

  During anyone's search for gold.

  Twenty-five paces it starts.

  The sun high noon and hot.

  With the streets dark and cold.

  No badge will stop this game.

  Deal death is the name of the game.

  Only one will walk away.

  The cards have all been dealt.

  One draw, bluff and you're dead.

  Raise your hand once will see.

  A smoky barrel of a Colt 45.

  Don't flinch, don't blink, don't move.

  Grease lightening waiting to strike.

  The eternal shot will ring.

  Who will hear the angels sing?

  Deal death is the name of the game.

  Only one will walk away.

  When the smoke finally clears.

  The fire is gone from the sky.

  The widow will sit and cry.

  Six good men deliver their goods.

  The preacher will speak his peace.

  Hoping praying for the same.

  A horse will lose his rider.

  And ride off looking for hay.

  Deal death is the name of the game.

  Only one will walk away.

  Only one will walk away.

  ****

  Cell Block Number Nine

  He was headed for Baton Rouge.

  With a six gun in his hand.

  It was a hot night under the moon.

  Sweat was spilling all over the land.

  Too many times he had walked the line.

  With a heavy nickel under his belt.

  With the fire of hate in his eyes.

  He was stepping on a broken heart.

  He was headed for Baton Rouge.

  To even up the score, knock down the door.

  To let the Devil come in.

  He was headed for the promised land.

  He was headed to Baton Rouge.

  To him she was all his life.

  As he left the steel bars behind.

  Her pictur
e hung in Cell Block Number Nine.

  But his brother stole his gal.

  He lay in bed with sleepless nights.

  He cradled the fury of his hell.

  By morning the hurt ate him alive.

  He was headed to Baton Rouge

  To even up the score, knock down the door.

  To let the Devil come in.

  He was headed for the promised land.

  A sudden flash broke up the night.

  Two shots ripped through the room.

  Through the smoke he watched,

  her picture fall to the floor in Cell Block Number Nine.

  He was standing in Baton Rouge.

  With a six gun in his hand.

  It was a hot night under the the moon.

  Blood was spilling over the land.

  Too many times he walked the line.

  With a heavy nickel under his belt.

  He was stepping on a broken heart.

  He was headed for the promised land.

  ****

  Raisin' Sand

  Religion taught him to lie.

  Hunger taught him to steal.

  Love taught him pain.

  Loneliness showed him how to fight.

  Raisin' sand in the streets of this man made hell.

  Just to live.

  Truth taught him not to trust.

  Frozen smiles look the other way.

  Today is just another mile.

  Yesterday forgotten never.

  Raisin' sand in the streets of this man made hell.

  Just to live.

  Drug dealer pushes on the corner.

  Preacher preaches on the other.

  Help wanted on the third.

  Unemployment easier on the fourth.

  Raisin' sand in the streets of this man made hell.

  Just to live.

  Grab a gun, grab a knife, grab a pipe.

  The street gang on the rise.

  Where do we go from from here?

  Can't you hear their battle cries?

  Raisin' sand in the streets of this man made hell.

  Just to live.

  ****

  Backseat Bandits

  Backseat bandits processed on their way.

  Fingerprints on a Federal page.

  Mug shot snapped today.

  Stars for the steel cage.

  Backseat Bandits have gone astray.

  And now they are going to pay.

  A human life a master mind.

  Will now waste away doing time.

  He proved what a man he was.

  He tested the law one last time.

  Backseat Bandits have gone astray.

  And now they are going to pay.

  Once he sat behind the wheel.

  Now his hands are cinched in steel.

  Once had power under his control.

  Now he is waiting for parole.

  Backseat Bandits have gone astray.

  And now they are going to pay.

  The victim you plagued with fear.

  Will not shed a single tear.

  Only God in heaven will cry.

  For this loss under the sky.

  Backseat Bandits have gone astray.

  And now they are going to pay.

  What a sad day.

  ####

  About The Author

  I live in Chelsea, Michigan and have lived in the states of Ohio, Florida, Nevada, Tennessee, Oregon and Texas where my writing career started.

  I hope you enjoyed reading the poems from The Outlaw Poems.

  A special Thanks to my wife Susan, the love of my life, for proofreading my books.

  My Fiction > Western >

  View my LinkedIn profile at https://www.linkedin.com/in/michaeljewell

  Michael R Jewell