Thursday, February 15, 2018

Day turned Bad -- a post-Valentine Day poem -- Love Hurts.

Valentines Day Remorse
Through the day, through this day of days
Lord help me make it through this day
Valentine's Day, over for me
Missed your card, I wanted so bad
Two fingers in the air, excused
To the boy's room I went and sobbed
Sure I had a card from Lulu
But 'twas yours I was dreaming for
You didn't know or didn't care
You broke my heart, my Valentine
_ _ _ _ 
Photo and Poem Copyright, © 2018 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved 

I'm linked with Rommy

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Reminiscing ~~ A Valentine Poem for Mrs. J

The knees and hips
a Valentine ditty for my sweetheart
The knees and hips do slow us down  
But it's so very wonderful 
Reminiscing on times gone by

Times we once had but will repeat 
no more. The intimate moments
I remember the most, but not all
Followed by the “firsts”, some of them
Remember the first meal you cooked
Just for me, I was so happy
That day was roasted Cornish hen
Baked potato with all trimmings
Followed by Vichyssoise, my first
There and then ready to marry,  
You made me wait a whole six months
I love you still, more every day 
 _ _ _ _ _

[On February 24th
will be 45 years married]

 _ _ _ _ _

Photo and Poem Copyright © 2014 (link), 2007 (link), and 2018 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, The Tuesday Platform ~~

There Sanaa had a bunchy of Valentines Day Poems to listen to and also discussed the origin of Valentine's Day.  In part, ""In Chaucer's "The Parliament of Fowls," the royal engagement, the mating season of birds, and St. Valentine's Day are related:
"For this was on St. Valentine's Day, when every fowl cometh there to choose his mate."" 

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Sunday, February 11, 2018

Advice (if you need some) -- a Weekend Poem

  To read more about this picture from my previous writings, check
This picture was taken in a museum in the cellar of the Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte mansion (southeast of Paris about 61km). Imprisonment for Money, Power, and Politics.

To a carouser;
advice from an old timer

"I have been one acquainted with the night"**
Never one to bed early with the birds
Never one to be overcome with fright

I have been out carousing with the herds
You stay out of trouble that is the game
If ever you get stopped don't slur your words

If you are detained take care don't inflame
Say yes sir and no sir, hold in your pride  
Having your name in the paper brings shame

If they throw down please don't claim that they lied   
Rather stay cool and maintain that you're right
Go with the flow there and don't get hog tied 

If jailed call your attorney don't incite
"I have been one acquainted with the night"
 _ _ _ _ _

Disclaimer:  This is written in first person but it is not me.  It is my muse who snooped a little into way back when before I was civilized.  Still I never went jail though I did get stopped when out too late.  And I would never be in a situation to slur my words.  Some of my friends did all of this and more though.

Photo and Poem Copyright ©, 2018 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

I am linked with Marian at The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Fussy Little Forms: Terza Rima,, where Marian introduced a form new to many, called the Terza Rima.  Writing a three line per verse poem, the rhyme scheme is ABA, BCB, CDC, ..., AA.

**Go there (link above) to read a nice Robert Burns poem using this from.  I used Burn's first and last line in my poem.  The rest is my own mess.

The photo is a PrintScreen copy of one I had previously posted with a "poem" in 2010.  For an explanation, go there:

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Thursday, February 08, 2018

Climbing the stairway to ... (a prose poem)

The Stairs to the left went up
The stairs to the left went up, to the right it seemed straight down, down as far as eye could see.

They reasoned. Let's you and I go up. Good things seldom come easy but this looks like the way more traveled.

Heading up, the handholds were plentiful.  A few little mice were underfoot but that bothered them not.

Walking most of the morning took its toll, the hikers were tiring.  A mile or so an hour was their best.

Their path narrowed. And it wasn't straight anymore. But the last turn for the morning had a surprise.

So beautiful, sumptuous reds and bright yellows prevailed. Greens and blues surrounded, streaming away from the golden streets.

There was a gate, it looked inviting. There was a hunk guarding that gate but he looked friendly to the touch.

Touching he did, on their foreheads with his hands and with his pole. The pole likened to a fishing pole, it had a hook, sharpened at its end.
Which hook quickly caught each by their collars then thrust bodies directly fronting the gate.

Your names please, they figured he already knew each of those. You're in my book he said. Nice reports written there.

You are passing the tests, just one more thing. Type your passwords on my screen, it's the one given you when you signed up with the righteous.

Fine, fine, all went well.  We are glad you chose our stairs. Welcome to Paradise.  Gabe here will show you your lodging and then show you around a bit.

Paradise for them
They didn't know they were due
Old truck must have crashed
_ _ _ _ _

Photos and Poem Copyright, © 2018 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved  

I'm linked up with Susie Clevenger at The Imaginary Garden, Bits of Inspiration ~ Stairs (Link)

My writing is in Haibun form but it doesn't qualify for being a true Haibun poem.  To qualify it should be a three line Haiku, this one is a Senryū.  Also the Prose Poem top part generally are not stories.   How to tell the difference, here.  More on the Haibun, here

The photo at the top is from my 2017 Jim's Hardware calendar, December page.  The truck is a 1928 Ford Model A Roadster Pickup.  Growing up, our favorite painter drove one like this for his work truck.

The Photo on the bottom is from my 2018 calendar, NAPA Classic Car Calendar, February page.  Here is a link to the car's information and specifications (read here for car specs).

I've ordered this car for Heaven, 
a 1956 Austin-Healy sports car 

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Tuesday, February 06, 2018

What to do? -- A poem for Tuesday

My choice;
Fishing or flying;

Whether to fish or should I fly,  
Those are my choices for today 

Soaring with my friends, my buddies
High above the waters and trails
The clear blue sky above beckons
Beckons for me to be a part
Or should I sit by waters edge
Waiting and hoping for a fish
A small carp may come floating by
Tangy bites for my family 

Flying I'll join Nature's wonders
Far above or come swooping by
For those below part of their show
There are bugs to catch way up there 

Fishing is relaxing. lean back
and join with friends, watch for balloons  
Till I see my prey swimming by
Catch it'll make for feasting this day 

Can't resist the lure,
I'll make the big catch
(written by me, White Crane)
_ _ _ _  

Photos and Poem Copyright, © 2018 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved 

The photos were taken by me on morning walks in the 'green belt' for flood control. My walk starts at the end of our street, one block from out house.  There are miles of nice walking trails. 

I'm linked with Magaly, at the Imaginary Garden, The Tuesday Platform

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Monday, February 05, 2018

Peeking through -- a Poem for Camera Flash

At the wall

At the wall the two stood
A little tippy toe
helps the lady's view

Through the oblong knot hole
previews of excitement
peered back invitingly

Four dollars a visit
Easy come, easy go
no Starbucks tomorrow

Could brag, saw world's longest
red anaconda snake  
  _ _ _ _
Photo and Poem Copyright, © 2018 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
I'm linked with Kerry, at the Imaginary Garden,
Photo is a "print screen" copy from Kerry's post, linked above
I wrote this as a Flash Poem, I wrote with 47 words including the title

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Friday, February 02, 2018

Saint Peter, here she comes -- a poem for Friday

Eulogy for one I just met 

For a sweet young lady
I only met today
Even before we met
 I knew, as good as gold 
 The car she drove told all

Wild at times, purrs sweetly
Thrifty, saved her pennies
Older Mustangs don't lie  

Colored a sooty dark
Matched her hair, soft, black, tamed
No spoilers or mag wheels
Fairly mild mannered two

When she spoke, so polite
Thank you ma'am, yes sir please
Loud, authority sure
Mellow exhausts, throaty
Parked curbside here she lies
Prepared for her new life
Heaven bent, now she'll speed
Saint Peter traffic cop

- - - -
Photo and poem Copyright, © 2018 Jimmiehov, all rights Reserved

Written for YOU and for the Real Toads in the Imaginary Garden --

Photo is a screen print of a 2006 Ford Mustang currently for sale at Car Max,

Did I really meet this person? 

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Sunday, January 28, 2018

Words -- a weekend Poem

Hurdy gurdy words 
When they're saying words won't hurt 
Don't believe a word of it 
And if they say words are toys 
You can say they're full of it 
Words that hurt are sharp pointed, 
said snidely, and with malice 
Words that play run up and down 
In and out wittingly paged 
Abhor using hurtful words 
Play with pretty words instead
_ _ _ 
Poem Copyright, © 2018 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
Photo, Amazon dot com, Merriam Webster Official Scrabble Dictionary - 13>99  (link)

I'm linked with Magaly at 
Wikipedia:  It is reported to have appeared in The Christian Recorder of 
March 1862, a publication of the African Methodist Episcopal
Church, where it is presented as an "old adage" in this form:
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never break me.

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Tuesday, January 23, 2018

a Poem for National Handwriting Day

Count the keys on this LARGE PRINT typewriter pictured above.

Writing Mechanics 103

I let my machine, a Dell, write for me  
That way people can read what I want to say  
 Simple writing. drawing, and coloring,
all are hand and coordination skills,
mundane, take practice, I color the best
But it's the thought to be conveyed that counts


I spell better than my spell checker does  
Now mine is a belligerent speller,
always wanting to exhibit the new,
variations of our oft used familiar words  
Shut it off I won't, never will happen
cause I've retired my old Mr. Webster
Onto paper
Down deep I'm a clever guy, so I think
But my thoughts must surface to allure you,  
telling what's in my heart, for your pleasure 
One-room school vocabulary comes out;
paper though there is none, fingers to keys,
all into the machine and on to yours

(Tidbit:  why do we still call it "writing") 
_ _ _ _ 

Photo and Poem Copyright, © 2012 and 2018 Jimmiehov respectively, All Rights Reserved

 - Photo, Large Print Typewriter taken by me, previously posted on my other blog in various places, beginning around year 2012. 
 _I'm linked with Magaly Guerrero

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Thursday, January 18, 2018

Planting time ~~ a Poem


Plant a tree for Grandmother

We'll plant a tree in Grandmother's garden
We'll plant it were she can see
We'll pick a fine one for our Grandmother
One with limbs so strait and green

We'll pick a tree for Grandmother's garden
We'll pick a small tree to grow
With Grandmother we'll watch it grow up tall
Tall to brave the wind and rain
We'll pick a fruit tree for Grandma's garden
We'll pick one to bear her fruit
We'll pick a fruit tree for our Grandmother
An apple or an orange

We'll help pick the fruit from Grandmother's tree
We'll pick some fruit just for her
We'll make a fruit pie for our Grandmother
She'll be happy when she eats

Children plant a tree for your Grandmother
You'll make her happy indeed
Every grandmother loves her grandchildren
Please plant her a tree today
_ _ _ _

Photo and Poem Copyright, © 2006 and 2018 Jimmiehov respectively, All Rights Reserved
 - Photo was previously posted Sunday, August 06, 2006 (Adi and Jonah's trees) 

I'm linked with 

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