Μύ Μύ Μύ Μύ Μύ Μύ Bud Phenix is a man of few words - except when it comes to chronicling cowboy life and prairie history in his poetry.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ ΜύβI was born near Saskairie and I cowboyed for about 25 years,β says the 78-year-old Carlyle resident. βMostly in Saskatchewan. I herded cattle with horses and did leatherwork and silverwork building my own saddles.β
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ βMy grandfather, Ike Scarrow was a cowboy. He lived in the hills near Arcola, so it's part of my heritage.β
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Phenix's poems are based on real prairie life and real prairie people. Although his work has been published in a poetry anthology - 'Let's Rodeo' (Grand Valley Press, Moose Jaw, 1994) - he doesn't write for that reason.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ βI started writing years ago, for something to do. Now, I'm inspired by my kids: Marla, Lori and Bobby. I want to keep my memories alive for them.β
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ One of Phenix's poems in βLet's Rodeo' is a tribute to βone of my cowboy friends who passed away.β In an excerpt from that poem, he writes:
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ βCome gather round me rodeo fans,
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ And sit with me a spell,
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ I will tell you a story of cowboys and bucking horses
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ And some of my friends' souls that were spared from hell.β
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ In 'The Story of Hough's Hollow', Phenix dedicates the poem βIn honour of Bob Cann and his wife who lost three children to diptheria in the Moose Mountains in 1898.β
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ βIn a letter, Mrs. Cann said, 'We laid three away,'β explains Phenix. βThis one kind of wrote itself.β
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ βNow life is not meant to be squandered or spent,
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ But sometimes there are things that are beyond our control.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ In one week, three of their kids died, with their parents at side,
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ The diptheria and flu had taken its toll.β
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ βNo organ to play, or a preacher to play,
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Nor a choir to preach a Lord's poem.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ A lot of tears were shed, as they mourned for their dead.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ While the angels carried them home.β
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ In the poem, 'My Levis Jeans,' Phenix writes about a twentieth-century cowboy - himself:
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ βI could ride in the saddle
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Without any fear
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Them Levis Jeans
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Sure saved my rear.β
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Phenix estimates that he has written βAbout 20 poems in my lifetime, sometimes two poems a year - and some take longer to write than others.β
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ The poet says a story inspired by his βGrandpa Phenixβ is a blend of both the prairie past and his family history - the two main elements of his writing:
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Grandpa Was A Pioneer
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ βMy heroes are our forefathers
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Who homesteaded around here.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ By just following their dreams -
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ To be a pioneer.
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ They challenged the odds
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ As they came on ahead.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Then they broke up the sod
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ On their little homestead.
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Their tools were very limited
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Sometimes just an oxen and a cow
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ They built a sod shanty
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ From the sod from their plow.
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ They churned their own butter
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ And they baked their own bread.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ They grew a large garden
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ That kept their families fed.
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ They hauled firewood from the hills,
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Where the poplars grew tall.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Then they harvested their crops
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Later on in the fall.
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ They took a few lessons
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ From the school of hard knocks.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Like when two epidemics came through,
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Spreading diptheria and smallpox.
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ To prosper was their reward.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ Through hard work and self-esteem.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ But they came through it all
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ By just following their dream.
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ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ βI do this to keep my memories alive and to keep western heritage alive,β says Phenix.
ΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύΜύ βIt's my way of preserving our history.β
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