Poem -- Sunday Muse

Dismal Endings

That day we raced towards the edge
Cosmos exploreers new search 
We passed by a dismal sight
Earth laying in cosmic ash 

Burned like a hot cigarette
Rolled round like a rolling pin
Burned to ashes she was spent
Last deer alive fought his last

Lay at the end his hair scorched
Panting for breath browned his tongue
Broiled eyes gazing at the sun
Mister Sun why did you flare

Woeful dead have no remorse
Braggert COVID carrier
Unmasked caught the dead himself
Moons, planets, all life burned first 
 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with Carrie Van Horn for her Photo Prompt at the Sunday Muse # 120, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/08/sunday-muse-120.html?m=1

Poem - Homecomming

Red flowers,
José Alejandro Cuffia,
Unsplash

Make my Day; 

  make me smile 

Things were simple the day I came back home 

Tulips and Iris flowered early 

That  was the year that Daddy quit hogs 

The price of pork had dropped.  All time low 

Dad cleaned the hog house.  Painted it red 

Donkey house made big on Dad's small farm 

Dare I tell you what he had for me 

Darned if it wasn't a hog house room 

Other rooms were for leftover pigs 

And donkeys who came up in the world 

They cheered mornings while eating our Oats*

Smiles they brought that made me smile as well

*My oats roasted, Oats and Honey Bars 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
 - Photo from Sanaa at the Poetry Pantry, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/08/writers-pantry-31-here-comes-august.html
 -  I am linked with Rommy at  Weekly Scribbles # 31,  https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/08/weekly-scribblings-31-what-makes-you.html?m=1
 -

 

Poem ~~ Lady and her Bird

Alone; 
 we cried 

I cried again today
'twill be my last
She and her crazy bird
they flew the coup
They filled their case and left
no kiss "Goodbye"
Now we are here alone
me and my dog

We cried and cried that day
left and they're gone 
They might as well had joined 
the circus call 
I don't know where she went, 
she and that bird 
But me and my dog here 
are all alone 

If you see them somewhere 
and they wonder 
Yes I cried more today 
but there's no more 
No more tears for her and 
that crazy bird  
Me and my dog alone 
we'll cry no more 

And if she wants to come 
we have a place 
A place to live for her 
and silly bird 
I'll say I'm sorry for 
whatever was 
I hope she's sorry too 
she knows for what 

Now they're gone it's alright 
she and the bird 
Dog and me wait no more 
our tears are gone 
 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with Carrie Van Horn at the Sunday Muse # 119,  http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/08/sunday-muse-119.html?m=1 
..

Poem - for Sunday Muse

(Artist unknown)

(See reference below)

Where Next 

The other night I dreamed 

Dreamed a giant machine 

Gyroscope-like nonstop 

Harmless looking it seemed 

And so I climbed on 

Ride was nice, very fast 

Hold tight and look around

Perpetual motion doom 

It was then that I'd seen 

I was the only one 

riding there.  What to do 

Were there others before 

What were these giant jaws 

Open wide, swallow me?

No more time to ponder 

Jump this beastly machine 

I jumped.  I ran.  Away    

Now watching from afar 

big picure came clear, Green 

Giant people eater 

Then I awoke, sweaty 

Was there a meaning here 

To me? To our Nstion? 

Congressman John Lewis? 

_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo was posted by Chrissa at the link below 

 - I am linked with Chrissa at Sunday Muse # 118, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/07/sunday-muse-118.html?m=1 

 - Sorry to be late.  We were with Mrs. Jim's family in Louisiana to attend her sister's funeral.  She died from COVID-19 following regab confinement after a terrible stroke.

 - Some might not be able to tell but I am officially on a blogging sabatical.  I do plan to continue following the alphabet weekly on my other blog and obviously write some here.   I just cannot help writing and reading blogs even if I say I wlll not.

Poem - Full of Figures of Speech

An Allusive Nod to Cereal;
  allusion, conflict, fiction dominate

Bright as Fruit Loops she lightened our day
Curt in speech words circle 'round open holes
Sweet were her lips alluring with color
Floating in milk her soft and flowing hair

Mixing the races comes like Raisin Bran
Health and pleasure to be envied by most
Brown skin holding dear her black lover
Coated with sugar sooo sweet to the taste

And to keep warm in winter will take two
Puffed Wheat her body is so inviting
While Instant Hot Porridge always handy
Quite a court they make be fit for this king 

Dozens or hundeds more await 
Corn Flakes make for a bit flaky 
Cheerios healthy moms' delights 
Granola good for cranky ones

Tasty dream fictional harem 
No conflicts allowed in my dish 
Two meals a day I'd have, 
morning and night 
 _ _ _

 - Poem Copyrighted, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 
 - I'm linked with Magaly Guerrero in Weekly Scribblings # 30, at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/07/weekly-scribblings-30-writing-as.html?m=1
 - Magaly tells us, "... I give you allusion, conflict, edit, fiction, grammar, mood, pace, plot, poetry, prose, punctuation, rhythm, and stanza, and invite you to write new poetry or prose which includes 3 or more of the words in blue. The actual words, or derivatives of them, should be part of your contribution. Use them literally or figuratively, make your piece about writing or living, let your theme be bleak or bright or whatever feels just right. 
"
 - I have most of these characteristics (for sure not prose) my twenty verses and made sure to call three that predominate in my subtitle.  "Conflict" may be credited as my worst, an "Allusion" to the very old "Male Chauvinism".
NO ROCKS THROUGH MY WINDOWS PLEASE!!! 

Poem, Eating and Thinking

"Waffles" by Megan 

Savoie at Unsplash

 

My Photo 

Leftovers for lunch 

Some folk for breakfast 

have waffles and fruit 

Breakfast fit for King 

Maple syrup on 

morsels  of delight 

Gold in their purses 

Pleasure fruit desert 

How goes Dow today 

Must give cook a raise 

People of my ilk 

Coffee bread and beans 

Is there baby's milk 

Hotel lunch for rich 

Steak they didn't cook 

Put on their account 

Leftovers for me  

Yesterday's dinner 

Hope it didn't spoil

Spinach for my thoughts

Fried baked potato

Ketchup for my soul

Frozen chicken piece

Brain food six months old

Please pennies for thoughts 

Strawberries rustled

from the neighbor's patch

Chocolate dab to share

Differently we eat 

and muse

My Photo 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem and 2nd and 3rd Photos Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - Top (1st) Photo, "Waffles" by Megan Savoie at Unsplash

 - I'm linked with Sanaa Rizvi at Weekly Scribbles # , https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/07/weekly-scribblings-29-writing-about-food.html?m=1 

Peom -- Jumping over the Moon

 

Seeing Things

  iyyi icti

I came, I saw, and then I told

Your cow jumped over the moon stuff

 

Your cow jumps only board fences

I saw her take off the barbed wire

 

I jumped over the moon, I did!

Cow saw me from her grassy field

 

The moon was full of crappy stuff

I've told you what I've been seeing

 

 _ _ _   . . .. . . .    Ms. Gladstone . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  

 

 

hashtag   #14daysnonewcases 

 

 

[Click on Pictures for larger view, click again for larger still]

Enlarged Astronaut foot prints and Included

Info about the artist and creator, Helen Garriott**

      _ _ _

 

 - Pictures and Poem Copyright, © Jimmiehov 2017 and 2020, All Rights Reserved

 - Pictures previously posted online here, http://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2017/02/moon-stars-world-sunday-micro-poem.html , (more about Ms. Garriott also).

 - I'm linked with Roomy at the Weekly Scribbling # 28 site, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/07/weekly-scribblings-28-seeing-things.html 

.

Poem -- Mustangs and Beagles

"Seeing Black and White"

Photo by Susie Clevenger with permission 

 

Seeing

 

I sat on my perch proud as a peacock

Driver in another world of his own

Tooling along the road in the fast lane

Just passing another pretty Mustang

 

Tell me please you like ours the very best

Sure I feel better here we go faster

That girl eats our smoke every day we race

Not what I mean you silly pooch--you know

 

I mean ours is racing black hers is red

Right then I wished I could appreciate

The pretty colors of that proud peacock

Colors of the rainbow--not "hers is red"

 

My ears are flying--day in the fast lane

Beagle Dog, they say I'm black white and brown

 
_ _ _


 - CLICK ON ANY PICTURE FOR LARGER VIEW

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with Susie Clevenger at the Sunday Muse # 116, Picture and Theme prompted by her, at http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/07/sunday-muse-116.html
 - Adi Jane was my loving Beagle dog, we were a registered Pet Therapy Team.  Adi died at age 17.  You can see more of her  here or at the Adi label links below.
 - Dogs are color blind  / [ hashtag   #14daysnonewcases ]

Poem -- Old Times are Gone

          Photo furnished by Magaly Guerrero *

"Things were different back then"*


Sandals were for women 
Flip flops became for men 
Hats doffed for lunch and church 
Men opened doors for gals 

Naught to sixty in six 
only hot rods could do
Space from here heaven 
(place to go in comics) 

Ate the food on your plate 
No such thing microwave
but TV dinners in 
Eat, watch Howdy Douty

Astronauts, topless beach 
I lost my Internet 
recipe, S.O.B! 
Now are we; different then 

, , , , , , , , , , , , , Ms. Gladstone  

hashtag

  #14daysnonewcases

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - I'm linked with Magaly Guerrero at Weekly Scribblings # 27 for Picture and Prompt (title), https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/07/weekly-scribblings-27-things-were.html

Poem for Pavement Walking

"Under the pavement the dirt is dreaming of grass." — Wendell Berry

 

My walk is paved 

My walk is paved in many ways 

Some I talk about some I don't 

Of the latter here I'll tell not 

Look and listen my pavement shows

Reds pinks and yellows of romance 

Spent blossoms pave my favorite paths 

 Comes a thistle with bristling stalk

Be careful smell the good, nice red bloom

Rocks and stones scattered here and there

Even a petal in ones shoe

Causes much grief stop get it out

Kick or throw a stone up the path

Look for dull coins along the way

Half buried spend as good as mint

Six walks may buy a pint of grog

Help forget the pot holes and bumps 

Then there's foot deep errant water

Clear, cleanses sandals loosens glue

But muddy water in your shoe 

Soggy mess makes the baby cry 

  

Comes a crack in the pavement  

Best of all will be a clover 

It grows in the crack, a blessing 

Pretty pink flowers every day 

Kids trying to find it's four leaves 

 

What all comes with our pavement 

Can we make best of rocks and stones 

Coins or potholes water shoe wash 

Or a crack with four leaf clover  

 

Just maybe 

Wish for one 

  _ _ _ 

 -  Poem and Photos Copyright,  Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Sanaa Rizv at Weekly Scribbles,  at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/07/weekly-scribblings-26-pavement.html?m=1

Pictures were taken at one of the places Mrs Jim and I walk, the bottom was during a sidewalk stroll headed to downtown at Killarney, Ireland. (link to pink flowered)

Poem for Roses

 
Roses for the Lady

Favorite flower
for lovers to give
A rose of red
awaits my true love

She'll oou and awe
like first she's got
But every year
I give red bouquet

She'll hug and kiss
carry on childlike
I'll kiss her back
and tell her my love

Dine wine tonight
next year's be the same 

Part of our backyard rose beds 

[click on picture for larger view]
_ _ _ _

 - Poem and Bottom Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked with Chrissa to Sunday Muse #114  for picture and inspiration at http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/06/the-sunday-muse-114.html?m=1

A Flirty and Winky Poem

[photo furnished by Fireblossom] 

Winkem and Blinkem; 

   winking girls  

Winkem was a little flirt and  

Blinkem was a flirt wannabe

Winkem learned to wink from her dad

Blinkem never could so she blinked 

Then that day on the porch Voilà!!

Out of nowhere came that wonder

Wondrous talent, she was winking

Winking at the dogs kittens too

Soon walked near a cute young fellow

Winking she tried but only blinked

Wise sister told "Afraid you can't

That pleasure will come in your teens"

_ _ _

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
 - Photo from Fireblisom for my last post for her prompt then, Sunday Muse #113 at http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/06/the-sunday-muse-113.html?m=1
 - This Poem is linked with Sanaa  Rizvi in the Writer's Pantry  at  https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/06/writers-pantry-25-summer-solstice.html?m=1
 - My previous poem with these girls is at https://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2020/06/a-poem-for-sunday-muse-113.html?m=1

A Poem for Sunday Muse #113

[photo furnished by Fireblossom]

Two Very Naughty Girls; 

A Muse Led Poem 

They climbed those twisted stairs, girls on the loose 

Naughty  two girls not where they were to be 

Dressed fit to kill this Saturday morning 

There should have been piano lessons, but 

Once up they started heckling passers by

Perched high on that top step almost hidden

Look up look down, surely they will be found 

 Take them home to their mother she'll thrash good  

Don't you be a naughty girl on the loose

You'll be found and thrashed well as you deserve

  _ _ _ _

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - Picture by Fireblossom where I'm linked with Fireblossom at "Sunday Muse #113",    http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/06/the-sunday-muse-113.html?m=1 

A Poem, Mind the Gap, Weekly Scribblings

"Mind the Gap" I'd always wanted to hear*
I've dreamed of those words recorded and told
every passenger boarding London trains
Chicago kids didn't ride fancy trains
New classroom job at the college waited

On the road to boyfriend's house, "Mind the lanes"

"Job, travel, crazy cop uthfollowing close"
Hadn't signaled changing lanes pulling over
Got smart with cop, arrested me, then jail
Miserable time in there--I hanged myself
I will never ever hear, "Mind the Gap"**

* "Mind the Gap," a British saying meaning watch out for the gap between the pedestrian platform and the subway car door, i.e. "don't stumble on the car ledge or fall down into there onto the tracks." 
** A TRUE STORY.  Of course it was not me, it was a young Black lady, Sandra Bland.  It all started with a change of traffic lanes to allow the police to go around her.  SHE DID NOT SIGNAL THE LANE CHANGE and was pulled over.  It turned out to be a trap by this officer, he had used it for a stop many other times.  He has been fired, the County has settled a lawsuit brought by the family.  Her sister was on the NBC Today Show for June 18, 2020.  
YOU CAN READ THE WIKIPEDIA account in the linked reference below.  
 _ _ _ _

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
 - I am linked with Magaly Guerrero with Wednesday Scribblings #24, at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/06/weekly-scribblings-24-when-all-else.html
 - Magaly's words for today's write, "... I invite you to write poetry or prose where speakers or characters (or us, in the case of Slices of Life) fill in the blank in the phrase “When all else fails, I _____”. You are not required to make the actual words/phrase part of our contribution. I would just like for your new poem or prose piece to be about what happens right after all else fails. Be funny. Be serious. The choice is always yours
 - This is a true story, embellished just a little to fit here,  Read all about her plight and final jail cell hanging,  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_of_Sandra_Bland
 - It happened here, just up the road from Houston at Prairie View, Texas.  Sandra was a problem-set Black young lady, ready for a new job at the college.  The police up there were/are terrible about harassing college students (a former all Black school there) and young folk, just like they were when I lived at Lincoln, Nebraska, before going into the Army. 
 - And finally I wrote in as form sort of new to me, the 'Elevensies', introduced by Rosemary and used here earlier on these pages.  The poem, or two stanzas grouped, have elven lines with the title in the middle as the sixth line. ( http://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2020/05/a-morning-poem-couldnt-be-helped-woke.html )