Sunday, July 23, 2017

A Sunday Mini Challenge weekend Poem for you

Putting on Airs*
We approached it with much trepidation
Might people think we were seeking some warmth
Would we be turned away at the grand door
Five bright welcome flags, U.S nonetheless
Heralded by the flags, still cool reception
Feelings of hidden microphones, cameras
Semblance of black armbands yet they wore none 
Greeters and Porters cold and stiff, no smiles
Said we came for coffee, tea and biscuits
The wait staff stood at parade rest, no smiles
No women help, men, order of the day
Ordered tea and scones, headed for the Lou
Lavatories in the Lou carved of stone
Carved of granite, golden faucets gleaming
High formal beaming like a British Lou  
A hundred plus years of age was it all
Goodbye doorman at the Lou standing tall
Meandered back inspecting fine fixtures
Of this most expensive D.C. hotel
Tea and scones been dumped on our low table
 _ _ _ _ _

Poem and Photos Copyright, © Jimmiehov 2017, All Rights Reserved 

Notes and photos: 

* "Since the 1500s, “airs” has referred to having an affected manner. It's from the French word air, "look, appearance, or bearing." Behaving as if you're better than other people — wealthier, better dressed, or better educated — is to put on airs. Acting like you know more than your teacher is a way to put on airs.
put on airs - Dictionary Definition :

To see where we had tea, highlight the blank area below:
The Building:  : The T r u m p  Hotel in Washington D.C.  No, we didn't stay there, way too many $$$$Bucks for us.  But we did go there for coffee one afternoon.  Mrs. Jim and I opted for a nice Cappuccino.  We (not tea and scones) were served in the hotel lobby.

 . . . . [click on the picture for larger size viewing]
I am linked with


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Thursday, July 13, 2017

Ninth LIfe Poetry

My Tale of My Tail;
Cat with Nine Lives

There once was a cat who really did have nine lives
Grateful cuss, each death's new life credited a friend

Then one day, life of eight, his earthly time 'bout up
Before he was looking forward to happy times

But come life number nine he began counting down
Down to the very end, day there would be no more

_ _ _ _

 Photo and Poem Copyright © 2007 and 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Bang, You're Dead,
 - I'm also linked with Burned Food Dude at who sponsors Feline Friday there. Sandee at Comedy Plus is his helper and also shows her cat selection at

 1. Fireblossom want us to write our last message with death looming.
 2. The Cat is our daughter's "Amber".  Amber stayed with us for her last life which ended sometime during her 19th year on earth.  Amber was a rescue cat who led a good life. Picture from my other blog,
 3. I have blogged about having nine lives and nine near deaths before, on January 6, 2006 ( ).

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Thursday, June 22, 2017

A poem, trial metafiction

Dr. Who? 

Dear reader, my wish for you is 
try to remember who I am 
I'm who you think I am. Only  
I won't say who on these pages 

You see the day I met Louise 
We had this thing, love at first sight 
Very short, courtship made in Hell 
Married Jackson style.  Fever still 

She too had her thing, other men 
Caught them one night in swank hotel 
Dead, I shot him dead, Texas style 
You may remember reading this 

Who I was, lawyer sprang me loose 
Can't mess with Texas boys they knew 
Gave me alias sent me back 
Married again Belle didn't know 

She'll tow the line no second chance 
Louise?  I shot her too, in a way 
Hit man clean shot in her head 
Sent him back to Columbia 

It wasn't me who did them in 
Or is it?  I'm just "Belle's old man" 
 _ _ _ _ _ 

 Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with, at the Imaginary Garden with Real
 Toads, Literary Excursions with Kerry,

 Kerry wants us to try something somewhat new in poetry, metafiction.  You can read an introduction and get ideas about writing metafiction style at the link above. 

 - Playing a little bit here too, I'm using one syllable words, maximum one word or none with more per line.  A few times I broke my self inflicted rule. 

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Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Lost; a poem of no recovery

running away,
never to be found
I'm lost and
can't find my way
Really don't want
to anyway
They sent out
the search party
When I saw them come
I hid
No recovery
for me right now
Perhaps never
will be
Left alone
I want to be
Don't you come looking
for me
_ _ _ _
 - Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with, at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform,

 - Kerry's words for us, "Greetings to all poets, wanderers, those who have lost and found their way...
Do you have thoughts to share, ideas you wish to release into the wild or a world view to express? You have come to the right place.
Her Illustration, below:
[picture on Kerry's post, linked above]
 - I took my picture of the Vespa scooter plaque in the "W o r l d . M a r k e t" store in Katy, Texas.  In one of my other lives I had a Vespa motorscooter  for a while.  It sufficed for second car use.  
 - I also used the scooter to get away on long jaunts, mostly riding up to our mountain or downing down along the Rio Grande River, either side.  In New Hampshire the scooter had prettier scenery for exploring. 
 - My Vespa ended life there in New Hampshire.  In another life I had a much larger Honda motor cycle.  That too has ended although I now have an older 1998 Ford Mustang Convertible, a what I call "an old man's motorcycle."
 - Most any place I have liked my solitude now and then but always I have come back.  
 - More birthdays than not I have mentioned running away but when I go Mrs. Jim has gone with me.

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Saturday, June 17, 2017

Micro Poetry ~~ The Day

Emerald Cave Morakot, Thailand
from Kerry's post, June 17, 2017

The Day When 

Her bones turn to dark emeralds
Hues of green, admirable sheen
Guarded she'll be, teeth of gems green
Brazen thieves their wares they pedaled 

Her blood will turn to fine Merlot 
Drink of queens none finer for them
Hair of shining gold, fine emblem 
Dreaded thieves their wares all aglow

Emeralds, gold, wine undid her 
Thieves.  She's sold to highest bidder

_ _ _ _
 - Photo (see Toads link below) and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with, at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Micro Poetry ~ Dark Emeralds,

 - Kerry's words for us, "Today is the day we put the "mini' back into the Sunday Mini-Challenge, and return to the option of form poetry. The object of this challenge is to write a poem in no more than 10 lines (but you may write in fewer than 10 lines all the way down to a single American sentence). Choose your own form or write in free verse, if preferred... our frame of reference is "Dark Emeralds" - from the final line of this poem by James Wright" again at the Toads link above.


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Saturday, June 10, 2017

A Prose Poem, with Buzzard help

Of what am I made?
When asked the question,
"what are you made of,"
what do you say?  

There is the old adage,
"girls are made of honey,
flowers and nice things
while boys are from pigs tales."

Thus said:  I was dropped
on a rock by a bird and
the sun hatched me. 

I'm made from that egg.
The egg, best to my knowledge
is made of whatever the bird
had been eating while she
formed it.  This goes with
"what you are is what you eat."

My mother bird, 
A buzzard**told me the other night, 
was helping eat a dead deer 
in the ditch the week before 
she laid the egg.

And dead bugs on the
way home every night.

Those stock answers hold
the answer still today. 
_ _ _ _

 - Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with, at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, “I Am Made of…” (Poetry and Flash Fiction with Magaly),

 - Magaly's words: "I invite you to ask yourself, what am I made of? Then craft your answer into a 3-stanza poem or a very short story (of 131 words or fewer)."  I used exactly 131 words with my title and since it is prose poetry broken up into groups of short lines (not verses?).

 - **I came onto this pictured group of buzzards feeding on the dead dear while driving near Montgomery, Texas.  One from this group told of my mother bird. 

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Friday, June 09, 2017

A Friday Poem for Words Count


It was her day of the week
Dread day had come again
Long shore walk another land
Princess's weekly bane 

Stack of cards piled nine feet high
Dread task she couldn't abstain
Lucky pull got the 'Judgement' card
Princess's weekly bane

Boys swimming in the girls pool
Naughty boys had no shame
Forgive them today—Judgement
Princess's weekly fame

(Please note on the Tarot card the 
abundance of nymps swimming in the pool.)
_ _ _ _

 - Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with, at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Words Count With Mama Zen,

 - Mom Zen's words: "... visit to get your tarot card for the day (it's free; no sign-up). Explore the meaning of your card.  Treat it as a joke, a portent, a really cool piece of art - whatever suits your muse.  Just make sure your muse keeps her musings to 60 words or less." (I had exactly 60 words including the title.)

"The Daily Tarot
The Judgement(sic):  You can secure an important victory and achieve a long-held aspiration today. This obviously is not an overnight achievement but probably something you've been intermittently pursuing for a long time. Some dreams refuse to die, and this may be the day for one of those dreams to begin to see the light of day in the real world. Be heartened and don't let up now."                         
Above "Daily Tarot" text and my card picture (a screen print) are from:

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Tuesday, June 06, 2017

Somewhere ~~ A Poem for Tuesday

Over the rainbow I must go
It is there we have peace and love
There sons will come home in one piece
Mothers will need no tears for them
Over the rainbow I needs go
For there it is that true love stays
No partings the lovers suffer
True love remains, be truly true
Over the rainbow I will go
There children will not be hungry
Food is plentiful, water flows
Free medicine, vaccinations
Over the rainbow I'll go now
Government is friendly and true
No poisons, pollutions, or guns
People live as God intended

_ _ _

 - Photo (link) and Poem Copyright © 2007 and 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with, at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platvorm,

 - Kerry's words for us, "It is the day to share our thoughts in poetry, here where the platform belongs to those who embrace the concept of the pen being mightier than the sword, the song more powerful than the war cry."


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Sunday, June 04, 2017

A Poem for Flash PLUS! -- Ghost Town

Berlin, Nevada, is a ghost town
Public Domain (from Wikipedia)(Link)
I closed my eyes and willed to dream
To dream about an old ghost town
Old West town that fell on bad times
Abandoned.  Middle of the night
Loaded the old Ford trucks, some food,
Kids and dogs, pots and pans, they left 
Light of Moon, middle of the night
Kissed their fortunes teary goodbyes
_ _ _ _ _
 - Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with, at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Flash 55 PLUS!,

 - Kerry's instructions were to write using exactly 55 words.  The PLUS part is optional, if we meet that challenge it will be "to consider the theme of the GHOST TOWN." 
 - I did both.

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