Friday, April 28, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 28, a Poem, a Fear

Fear stays

She sat on the bed, her head in a her hands 
She opened her eyes, then closed them again 
Would this be the day, a big one for her 
She'd been here before, could this be her last

Ever since that day, day when was four 
She'd asked her brother, would he tell her please
Was Boogey Man real, could he go away 
Like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny

Or was he really real like Tooth Fairy
Her brother kept this secret but her mom
found out and proceeded with Old Wives cure
That didn't work, things got worse for our girl

Daddy never knew, or never let on
On her marriage night she waited her turn
He'd gone to the bathroom, changing her clothes
She vowed never after tonight, to fear

But that night and ever since she had peeked
Peeking under bed, for Boogey Man still
Finally her hubby found out, he cared not
He laughed at her fear.  Soon he was long gone

Now she's sixty-two, her big day for change
We don't know what will happen.  Pray for best
_ _ _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Boogeyman, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/04/boogeyman.html 
  --- - - and    
 - also to Day Twenty-eight of NaPoWriMohttp://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-eight-3/
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Thursday, April 27, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 27, a Poem, Boots and Shoes


 
Boots and Shoes
 
Your mother wears Army boots
Those were fighting words back then
These boots were made for walkin'
Those were loving words back then
 
We can't go back, but we try
Listen to all the oldies
They'll carry your mind away
Away back in time, YouTube
 
BTW, do you recall
Don't step on my blue suede shoes
_ _ _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 - Photo copied from Marian, see link below, copied from my computer screen
 - I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Writing Shoes, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/04/writing-shoes.html 
  --- - - and    
 - also to Day Twenty-seven of NaPoWriMohttp://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-seven-3/


Nancy Sinatra - These Boots Are Made for Walkin'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbyAZQ45uww&list=RDSbyAZQ45uww#t=4.3000007

Do you have a song which comes to mind when you think shoes or boots?
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Wednesday, April 26, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 26, a Poem, Feeling and Outsider Art


 
Feeling
 
I am an outsider which is
different from being an outcast
An outcast is shoved aside, cast away
Either physically or emotionally cast beside the road
 
I'd rather be an outcast than the outsider that I am

Oh they let me mingle but really have nothing
to say with me.  They don't tell me why
they feel disposed to shy away
 
But I have this feeling,
deep down the feeling of truth, I am different

_ _ _ _ _ 

 - Photos and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 - Photos: (they are mine, copied from my computer screen as referenced below)
       On the screen were several very interesting drawings of Karin Gustufson.  She gave us permission to use them on our posts, providing we give her credit (much due for these wonderful drawings).  I do give credit to "Karin Gustafson--all rights reserved".
        You can see these and more at the "Outsider Art" link below or here.

- - - - - -

 - I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Outsider Art, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/04/outsider-art.html 
  --- - - and    
 - also to Day Twenty-six of NaPoWriMohttp://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-six-3/

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Tuesday, April 25, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 25, a Poem, Desert Art; or Exotic River Rocks



Desert Art;
 or Exotic River Rocks
 
Some like desert art,
hanging on their walls
 
The desert is nice
pretty to look at
But try living there
El Paso desert
 
five long dry hot years 
It'll grow on you?
Not so very much
Wall adornment's fine

 
Or take mountains' cool
In their streams you find
 
Nuggets to treasure
or a large jade rock
Green in the water
Matches trees on hills
 
When it dries at home
Door stop memories
Pale green to polish
another day that  
 
It may shine like jade
Jade it held within
Exotic memories
you savor, cherish


_ _ _ _ _ 

 - Photos and Poem Copyright © 2014, 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 - Photos: (they are mine, copied from my computer screen as referenced below)

Top: 
California Desert Art
Night Fires
By Agnes Pelton
http://www.californiadesertart.com/?p=226

Middle: Painting by Agnes Pelton
(Green Gems photo from Google) (link)

Bottom:  Photo by this Author, Jimmiehov, 2014
"Rocks know and some I don't"
http://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2014/03/rocks-i-know-and.html

Here: (Agnes Pelton's Studio photo)
Agnes Pelton Revival in Cathedral City
http://www.californiadesertart.com/?p=1018


 
An additional link I found interesting, written by a collector of Agnes Pelton's work (with some pictures):
Bidding on Agnes Pelton
California Desert Art (link, same as below)
http://www.californiadesertart.com/?p=2323

Agnes Pelton work copied and displayed here as Fair Use Principles:

➮It is a historically significant artwork
➮The image is only being used for informational and educational purposes
➮The image is readily available on the internet
➮The image is a low resolution copy of the original artwork and is unsuitable for commercial use


- - - - - -

 - I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, “AThe Tuesday Platform , http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-tuesday-platform_25.html 
  --- - - and     - also to Day Twenty-five of NaPoWriMohttp://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-five-3/

  The instructions from Kerry O'Connor:  "The artist I am featuring today is Agnes Lawrence Pelton (1881–1961). To visit the WikiArt gallery of some of her paintings, click HERE. ... "
 - I lived in El Paso, Texas, in the late 50's and early 60's while in the U.S. Army.  The city was smaller then, Juarez was friendly, it actually did grow on me.  The saying is that it will take two years for a person to like it.  Four of or five kids were born there.
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Monday, April 24, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 24, a Peacock Poem


Pretty Birds; You woke me 
 
You woke me up again today
Beautiful, many colored coats
But oh what a screech you do make
When you're below my window sill
 
Pretty boy and girl, travel in pairs
Walking down the street to my house
Early morning, day is dawning
Came to my house ready to yell
 
"Pretty bird," as Polly would say 
But you flew the coop late last night
Reveled the night away and now
Now at my house waking  the dead
 
I'll call your mother, she will fetch
Send you home for your daily groom
Now pretty bird, please for next time
Please don't come so doggone early
_ _ _ _ _
.
 - Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 - Photo: "Peacock at Magnolia Garden, SC" by Margaret at her post today, linked below    
 
 - I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, “Artistic Interpretations - Beauty, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/04/artistic-interpretations-beauty.html 
  --- - - and   
  - also to Day Twenty-four of NaPoWriMohttp://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-four-3/

  The instructions from Margaret:
  • "For today's challenge, write about "beauty" or the symbolism that represents one of the most beautiful birds of creation, the Peacock - keeping in mind not all the myths, superstitions, folktales, and beliefs are necessarily "beautiful"."
  • Margaret has in her post, linked above, references to others who wrote of the beauty of the Peacock.  You might wish to check some of those out if you have time, also listen to video she found.  My favorite is found by clicking on the word 'HERE' in her line, "HERE is a fascinating link -  A few excerpts from the link are:"  It will take you to Minnie Mathews' research post, The Peacock in Myth, Legend, and 19th Century History.  Or you can graze the few excerpts she has posted.
  • My poem is relived from true experiences back in the 80's and 90's when we lived in Friendswood, Texas.  A neighbor down the street kept a coop having a pair of peacocks.  Their stay was almost part time as they could escape the coop, or they would get loose and be forgotten to be locked up for the night.  Invariably they would then sleep on top of their house and/or go wandering through the neighborhood, seemingly seeking us out for waking up to feed them.  Their call was the most awful screech you could imagine.

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