i’ve been rode hard

and put up wet a many a night

by dirty gin martinis

by fine moonshine

by the crucifix neon signs

of the bible belt of East Texas

where the liquor is always thicker

in one of those wet counties

and it always seems to find me quicker

over on the other side of the tracks

but back to what i was saying

i’ve been rode hard and put up wet

a many a night…

i’ve seen the likes of mystics


six naked men on bikes

in downtown San Francisco

i’ve seen the likes of speedfreak succubus angels

creeping like snakes inside my beer bottles

listening to Radiohead, reggae

redneck romantics

who had also been rode hard and put up wet

i’ve written poems which i’ve put away

until nowand poems i put to you


i’ve seen the rain

from a trainfrom a Greyhound window

from a plane

i’ve seen the night inked in a blanket of fog

and i’ve sat and admired the moon from a hollow log

i’ve rolled my bones and joints

through cellar doors

through the Celis Brewery

through the celestial stars over California beaches

i love to eat the sweetest little peaches

i’ve read at Big Sur

i’ve loved English teachers

i love the sea

i love this poem that rages in me

i’ve combed the seashores

i’ve slept on floors

i’ve been locked behind bars and i’ve been free

i’ve been in a horrible mad raging sea

i’ve slept under the trees

i’ve watched evil TV’s

and i’ve seen

the sunrise the sunset

and all of these wonderful people i’ve met

who have also beenrode hard and put wet…

i’ve been drunk and just went to bed

i’ve been underfed

i’ve had sex drenched in sweat and i’ve bled

i’ve thought for sure that i was dead

i’ve thought for sure the sun would not rise again

and i’ve made friends and i’ve made love

i’ve cried and prayed to the lord up above

i’ve felt and held in the beds of my lover

sendless nights of soft flesh

wrapped in covers

under Texas skies

beside cheerleader’s thighs

in smoky rooms

the scent of northern lights

and i’ve made love on through the night

and into the day

but what i really wanted to say

was i’ve been rode hard and put up wet

a many a night…

© Jeff Callaway 2005

Click here to buy Rode Hard & Put Up Wet by Texas Outlaw Poet Jeff Callaway!

so after

a hot night of drinking

cold cold brews

and Texas two-steppin’

with the Henderson County who’s who

the redneck reunion

of the Coal Miners crew


in the mom-and-pop


of an old greasy spoon

deep in the heart of Athens, Texas

for some southern fried soul food

and the psychobilly grooves

that the jukebox exudes

the tunes bloom

in special orange blossoms of

sound that you can feel

when you’re drunk at 4AM

having coffee

at the Pitt Grill



pots of java

you can drink until

you get your fill

to help you sober up

so you can drive home

without getting killed

and when all the bars are closed

Pitt Grill is completely filled

with conversation between close friends

they really can be such a thrill

when one wiseman once said to me

sometimes “conversations kill”

but chicken friend steak, country gravy

and 3 eggs now that’s a good meal

and when its all for just $3.99

now isn’t that a deal

for real

the grease must be


when we’re dining

under the fluorescent lighting

formica tabletops and saltshakers

seem so inviting

plus after you clean your plate

you can smoke cigarettes

inside and

that’s surprising

like back in the good old days

now isn’t this exciting

and that reminds me

of America

the home of the free

the toothless waitress on speed

ask me if i’d like more sugar or more cream

and i tell them


and can i also get another

order of the hash browns



and covered…


© Jeff Callaway 2006

Click here to buy Party Fouls & Other Atrocities by Texas Outlaw Poet Jeff Callaway!


sat there in the smoky room

where the poets loomed in the gloom

and the coffee brewed

as time seemed to

stand still

I knew that she was real

or that she was like

a wonderful white rose

just waiting to bloom

in Spring

or even right there in front of me

where I noticed how her bones caught

shadows of light

from beneath her skin

that I wanted to be inside

and soon

I longed to touch her

with my long velvet tongue

my hands

calloused and wet

with words

with ink there of

that burned

into the page that was her

with long blonde tresses

and spectacles

all spectacular she

was just like she was

the moon

that I could feel her

pull like I was the ocean

my swoon and my sway

as she sat there silently

scrawling romantic electric words

with her doll like hands

creamy and ceramic

into her black leather notebook

where she kept her poems and things

she seemed just like a cat

with her litters of light

as I took the stage

to read

I watched for her responses

to each

of my bombastic elastic words

that I bombarded

upon her ear lobes

until she became shell shocked

and pulled her kites, her eyes

from the page

to glance up at me

with her eyes

her eyes like lights

that shown up on the stage

where I stood lonely

and longed for her to join me there

but she just smiled…


Click here to buy A Peck Of Pickled Poems on Amazon!

Texas Outlaw Poet, Jeff Callaway, will have a new piece, titled “Mickey’s 40 oz. to Freedom,” included in the upcoming 211 Gallery show, Weird & Wonderful, on Saturday, April 1 at 4 PM – 7 PM. Please come out and see this newest addition to his many multimedia renderings of beer-bottles to be viewed there at the gallery, as well as all the top notch art and artists of our beloved East Texas area! The event is included in conjunction with the Celebrating the Texan festivities taking place in the town center of historic Athens, Texas that day! Jeff Callaway will also have many copies of some of his best poetry collections available for sale at $5 per book on display near the Texas Outlaw Poet Art-Space towards the rear of the gallery! Hope to see you all there in support of the arts and local art and artists! –Texas Outlaw Press

Click here to buy Texas Outlaw Poet books on Amazon!


“211 Art Gallery is hosting it’s biannual block party for the Weird & Wonderful Art and Wine Walk. This year we’re excited to house 3 of the finest Wineries around East Texas, including: 3 P’s in a Vine, Castle Oaks and White Fox.”

“Browse our 30 plus artists, and enjoy the music of Andrews/Mizell. Featuring Bad 2 da Bone BBQ, Double Barrel Desserts, Milk & Honey Meadows & LulaRoe by Linda Odle.”

“Purchase your wristband at the front of 211 Gallery for $10 to enjoy the flavors of East Texas.”

“We’re excited to be working in conjunction with the 2nd Annual Celebrating the Texan.”

-211 Gallery, 211 N. Palestine, Athens, TX.



NAOMI, a poem film by Texas Outlaw Poet, Jeff Callaway, based on his poem of the same name. Narration by Jeff Callaway, music by The Sentinals and The Kresents. All footage and music bits are public domain. Poetry is copyright Jeff Callaway. Get your copy of one of Texas Outlaw Poet’s books available on Amazon! Click Here for Jeff Callaway’s Author Page on Amazon!


of Vanderpool

upon the Sabinal River

with varicolored trees

on rolling hills

which Mother Nature does deliver

in Autumn

a most majestic Texas sight

deep in the heart of

Lost Maples

we three friends

did camp one


just Bryan, Josh and I…


shortly thereafter sunrise

in a beautiful birth of first light

we arrived

a wondrous wedding of friends

to nature’s sweet delight

we set out on a five mile hike

out to our most quaint camp sight

upon the shores

of a clear and meandering stream

which the earth did feed

from the womb

of its natural spring

from atop a mighty limestone peak

my brave Bryan did dive

into its cool




tall tall trees

live among the splendor

of the leaves

yellow, brown and green

Uvalde Bigtooth Maples dream

dramatic scenery

the Green Kingfisher sings

the song that late October brings

to echo against those rocky peaks

where Golden-Cheaked Warblers

nest and feed in Spring

to awaken the great Gray Fox that sleeps

the White-Tailed Deer

the bobcats screech

javelina, armadillos, raccoons root free

with all the flora and fauna

who both live together in peace

in nature’s sweet sweet


and then

a lonesome

wind did speak

to Bryan, Josh and me

a breeze that blew bitter


up above and beyond

a canopy of trees

and those scenic streams

the sunlight beams

off clearest creeks

beside the deepest variations

of steep and rugged limestone canyons

we finally stood atop a grey plateau grassland

to admire

a limitless landscape of endless

wooded slopes

that sat softly radiant

in evening’s pink


and also


evidence does show

that prehistoric peoples

once did roam those

rolling hills that rolled and roll

from a horizon of black gold

to distances unknown

my friend Josh was even told

Apaches and Comanches

in days of old

both brave and bold did pose

a most menacing threat to those

settlers they met

who stole their homes

if truth be told

and truth be known

Josh told me so

by the campfire’s warmest glow

by the campfire’s wildest light

later that night

we both agreed that it wasn’t right

but that Lost Maples was quite a sight

so while in hammock Bryan slept tight

right within the confines

of our quiet

and quaint camp sight

as Josh and I both drank

we came alive

alive we cried

under that wide open starry sky

of Texas night…

just Bryan, Josh and I…



Click here for more info on Lost Maples State Park!

Click here to buy A Peck Of Pickled Poems on Amazon!

Jeff Callaway was born in Athens, Texas in 1976. Since then he has attempted to tour every bar and every jail-house in this great state. Fortunately he shares his experiences through his edgy southern poetry that can be as sultry as Texas itself. Jeff has written five chapbooks and two full-length volumes, all published by Austin publisher Texas Outlaw Press. He has appeared at countless open mics and performed many spoken word events since 2003. He recently had his first art show of original work at the Hal Samples Space Gallery in Deep Ellum, displaying his many multi-media renderings of beer bottles. He currently resides in Texas where he continues to perform, write, paint, live and love.


the color purple

in mosaic shades


rhetorical explosions

onto a page

grape grenades to grace

with such floral royalty

they animate

like raspberry ironies

my ivory blank

canvas erupts a

plum page

the petals swirling in lavender


like box fan blades


around their lemony centers

the yellow antennas to splinter

rose gentians in Spring

making me remember


in all my lilac daydreams

deliver me

gold is nature’s first green

with its livid imagery

these purple passages sing

the pollination of

a bumble bee…



Click here to buy A Peck Of Pickled Poems on Amazon!

The ghazal (Arabic/Persian/Urdu: غزل) is a poetic form with rhyming couplets and a refrain, each line sharing the same meter. A ghazal may be understood as a poetic expression of both the pain of loss or separation and the beauty of love in spite of that pain. The form is ancient, originating in Arabic poetry in Arabia long before the birth of Islam. It is derived from the Arabian panegyric qasida. The structural requirements of the ghazal are similar in stringency to those of the Petrarchan sonnet. In style and content, it is a genre that has proved capable of an extraordinary variety of expression around its central themes of love and separation.

The ghazal spread into South Asia in the 12th century by the influence of Sufi mystics and the courts of the new Islamic sultanates. Although the ghazal is most prominently a form of Dari poetry and Urdu poetry, it is now found in the poetry of many languages on the Indian Subcontinent.

Ghazals were written by Rumi and Hafiz of Persia; the Azeri poet Fuzûlî in the Ottoman Empire; Mirza Ghalib and Muhammad Iqbal of North India; and Kazi Nazrul Islam of Bengal. Through the influence of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832), the ghazal became very popular in Germany during the 19th century; the form was used extensively by Friedrich Rückert (1788–1866) and August von Platen (1796–1835). The Kashmiri poet Agha Shahid Ali was a proponent of the form, both in English and in other languages; he edited a volume of “real Ghazals in English”. Ghazals were written by Moti Ram Bhatta (1866 – 1896), the pioneer for Ghazal writing in Nepali language.[1]

It is common in ghazals for the poet’s name (known as takhallus) to be featured in the last verse (a convention known as the maqta). (from Wikipedia)

Here is a ghazal written by, Texas Outlaw Poet,  Jeff Callaway, titled “Hungry Ghost.”



by Jeff Callaway


She was gone when I needed her the most

of all. My love it is a hungry ghost


to haunt the halls of my hearts home as I

fall. My lonesome call is a hungry ghost


song. She’s gone for real. And an appetite

that cannot be filled is a hungry ghost.


My heart is a black hole. My heart is burnt

toast. A neutron star is a hungry ghost.


She awoke deathwatch beetles in me for

spite. It’s not right. Night is a hungry ghost.


And so tonight I fly with my giant

white gossamer wings like a hungry ghost.


And so tonight I float a drunken boat

on a lone sea that is a hungry ghost.


Tonight I fight inside myself to hope

she might return to burn a hungry ghost.


I miss her the most. I miss her the most.

I miss her so much like a hungry ghost.


with a million dreams of her leaving me

alone in bone, I am a hungry ghost.


A hungry ghost. I am a hungry ghost.

Boo! Jeff Callaway is a hungry ghost.



©Jeff Callaway

A short film based on and containing the poem “Nocturnal Emissions” by Jeff Callaway, Texas Outlaw Poet. Brought to you by Good Cat/Bad Cat Productions in association with Texas Outlaw Press. All video bits are public domain. Written by Jeff Callaway. Acting by Jeff Callaway. Nararated by Jeff Callaway. Filmed and Directed by Sophia Cruz aka Mad Sophia. #TexasOutlawPress #GoodCatBadCatProductions #MadSophia #TexasOutlawPoet