Cowboy Poet Ken Gardner

I’ve been privileged to know Ken Gardner and his wife Dorothy for over 10 years and have ridden with both of them a lot.

Ken describes himself as “an urban cowboy and a professional dude. I own a saddle but no horse and a pasture but no cow. I have done many things that cowboys do, e.g., fallen off a horse, been kicked and bitten by horses, wrangled dudes, been in a western movie, milked cows, drunk milk with flies in it, slept with wet dogs, rolled quirlies, and written poetry. My verse has brought me invitations to join the likes of Don Edwards and Baxter Black on stage to recite.”

He has taught western poetry classes, has written western poems for 15 years, and has published three books. For the past ten summers he has been Master of Ceremonies at Romero’s Barns and Terrace in Bridgeport CA., hosting such performers as Don Edwards, Red Steagall, Dave Stamey, Wiley and the Wild West, the Quebe Sisters, and Michael Martin Murphy. Ken’s recent poetry performances include Genoa NV’s First Cowboy Poetry and Music Festival, two appearances at Susanville CA’s Diamond Mountain Casino, the Nevada County Poetry Series at Grass Valley CA’s Center for the Arts, and Elko’s National Poetry Gather, where he opened for Baxter Black in 2006 and was a reunion artist at the Gather’s Silver Anniversary in 2009.

He’s very talented and well known in the world of western poets.

Here’s one of his recent works entitled Charlie’s Horse.

Though Charlie was a cowboy, he wasn’t anybody’s fool.
Most of what he know’d and did, he’d learned outside of school.
But he rarely took the trouble to think situations through.
Many folks are like that. Fer instance, me an’ you.

Well, Charlie had this mustang that grazed on locoweed.
And while he was fixated on a wish to flaunt his seed,
That cowboy couldn’t do it, no matter how he tried!
That locoed horse of Charlie’s just would not let him ride.

Sure, Charles could be up on him and go a little ways,
But then that horse would see a ghost an’ show that he was crazed.
He’d buck and jump and skitter, ‘an that cowboy’d topple down
An’ find himself a-settin’ on the unforgivin’ ground.

So, ol’ Charlie went to thinkin’ an’ his face became wreathed in smiles.
He’d figgered out a way, he thought, to set that horse fer miles.
The inspiration hit him, an’ it wouldn’t go away:
Some pinon pitch inside his knees would surely help him stay.

Up in the hills he found a tree that oozed the best of saps.
An’ he spread about three handfuls on the inside of his chaps.
He climbed aboard his mustang. He firmly took his seat.
He was welded to his saddle. He had his problem beat!

He turned that horse’s head towards home an’ despite its jumps an’ jiggin’,
Charles stuck securely to its back, united with his riggin’.
He come up to the ranch house, settin’ proud as he could be.
He called fer all the boys an’ wives to hurry out an’ see.

An’ there before that multitude, he couldn’t help but tattle
Of how he’d thought of pinon pitch to keep him in his saddle.
“B’Gawd, but I have done it! All afternoon I rode.
I’ve made it home fer supper an’ not wunst did I get th’owed!”

Then Charlie grabbed the saddle horn an’ swung his right leg off.
That pine tar giving up its grip made a noise like rippin’ cloth!
The horse thought it was rattlesnakes an’ not Charlie’s derriere.
It jumped and plunged then sun-fished, an’ left that cowboy grabbin’ air.

Charles’ arms an’ legs was stuck straight out as he soared above the earth.
He formed an “X” against the sky an’ then he hit the turf.
As he reclined, he spoke them words the whole world holds profound:
“Ya know? No ride is ever over ’til both feet are on the ground!”