a Poem -- Tribute to a Red Fruit

A Broken Ode to a 
Wannabe Romantic 
Red Tomato 

Tomato ripe and red our love's so young
Forever on my mind I think of you
Your red lips parted place for tooth or tongue
Little brown love nuggets they call, some do 

Doctor says I can't have you anymore 
Those brown nuggets colon irritators 
We played like the morrow was here to stay
That came to a stop when we knew the score 

You left and so I eat mashed potatoes 
Now I miss you so since  you've gone away 
 _ _ _ _  

- Photos and Poem Copyright,  Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
 - I am linked with Sanaa Rizvi at Weekly Scribbles, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/02/weekly-scribblings-8-red-fruit-rendition.html?m=1

 - At first this was to be an Ode to the Red Tomato but that really didnt work out well.  I did have some lines so I kept on writing for the result you see.
 - It does have the conventional rhyme scheme, Ode Format (??),
ABAB CDEC DE . 
Still I will try some more soon.

 - Sanaa asked of us, "Your challenge today is to write while inspired by red fruit. Fruit as a metaphor, analogy, a persisting idiom, as a symbol or even ..."  Her illustration is below, 

Still Life with Ewer and Fruit 
by Milne Ramsey, Pinterest

A Pantry offering Poem

 

    May thee Rest

Lucy in the sea with diamonds
She couldn't take them up with her
Opted to be buried at sea

There the diamonds lay beside her
Peace offering to those before her
Sharing with the sharks consumed her

Now diamonds are for the taking
Shiny bubbles before the sun
 _ _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved  

 - Photo from Magaly, linked below 

 - I am linked with Magaly Guerrero in the Writer's Pantry at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/02/writers-pantry-8-we-like-multiples-of.html 

A fog and dog Poem for the Weekend

    Day of Meeting

Another dismal foggy day
Seems more and more started that way
Fog surrounding each object seen

That was outside but more so in
In her heart and in her being
Each organ coated slimy fog

Her mind surrounded with the stuff
Fed by her eyes and ears--portals 
What she couldn't see hoped she heard

That day it happened again dim
Blind in fog she feared what would come
Patter of stealthy feet she heard

Panting closing ever louder
Shrinking back her hand extended
Slime coated warm touch foggy wet  

Gentlty reluctantly once more
What she couldn't see nor hear
A different feel was meeting her

Feelings alone feeding her mind
She feared the worst from what she felt
Warm body covered soggy hair

Nothing could she imagine loomed
Panting slimy being to mind
A mind fog coated failing her

Did she hear a feeble growl close
More like a muffled howl in pain
Here a hungry stomach and heart

Slowly her fog-stricken mind came
Came into play adding its touch
Touch higher lower up and down

Four legs supporting tail that wagged
Cold wet nose hairy pointy ears
Feed him some of her bread make friends

She'd had dogs before different here
This one came to her in great need
Sensed her need as well clever beast

Trudging home though the fog they went
There to see what each had gotten 

    Wolf Dog (named by Jim)

    Photography by Sarolta Ban

    View website HERE

 _ _ _ _ 
 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 
 - I'm linked to Sunday Muse with Carrie Van Horn at 
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/02/sunday-muse-96.html?m=1

 - Click the link above to visit the photo that tickled my muse this morning for my write.  And click it also to read how some other writers wrote to the photo. 

Dream garden not -- a tribute Poem

The Opened Door

The day I found the opened door
I don't know how that came to be
Always seeing the garden there
That's one place I wanted to go

I have been seeing flowers bloom 

Rose's red, thick, some pink and firm
Irises of many colors
That open door was my invite

So out I came freedom beckoned

Down I  walked my loved path of bricks
Where flowers were I couldn't find
Two yellow iris two plain white

The pretty fountains had gone dry

One mechanical sunflower
Twas hanging on an iron pole
Books never read library locked

Walk the path 'til at the corner

Back through open door deflated
Now in my cell through my window
Four small flowers growing for me 

[a poem tribute 
to what was not]

 _ _ _

 - Photos and
Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All  Rights Reserved
 - I am linked with Rommy at Weekly Scribbles, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

- I did visit this garden, it was at the hospital where my SIL who had just had a stroke is recieving therapy.  I had been wanting to visit, I like to see what various gardeners' dreams have ended up being.
 - Disapointment followed as we, in the southern coastal area of Texas, have stayed green and have flowers blooming, but NOT in north Louisiana.

 - I am not and NEVER been incarcenated except for the 17 years I spent at home.

Girl on a scooter

Girl on a scooter
where do you go
Couldn't be cuter
I love you sooo

With room for double
when I'm with you
Me for your buddy
envies my brood

Flying through the night
brown hair trailing
I'm hanging on tight
close those railings

Riding your scooter
queen of the streets
Girl on a scooter
so glad you're mine
_ _ _

 - Photo and Poem Copyright,  Jimmiehov 2 and 2020, All Rights Reserved
 - I am linked with Sanaa Rizvi  in  the Writer's Pantry  at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/02/writers-pantry-7-strolling-through.html?m=1

 - The photo was taken in 2006 while we were traveling, Sicily and Amalfi,  Italy,  for four weeks (plus one in Provence, France).
 - When  I was in El Paso in the U.S. Army for five years and the three years at an Air Force Satellite Tracking Station I rode my Vespa scooter as a second car and for pleasure.

My Poem - Artistic Interpretation

 - - - - My SIL had a stroke - - - - 

 - - - - last week.  I wonder - - - - 

 - - - - what it felt like to her.- - - 

My Clouds  

Awoke one saturday morning 
A stormy day coming for me 
Storm clouds gathering darkly gray 
Opened the door a crack to see 

Out of my grasp open it swung 
Gaping, wind and clouds gushing in 
They swooped me up afraid to fall 
With raspy voice clouds spoke to me 

Hold tight, one saying , don't you fall 
There was nothing else I could do 
Up we went to nowhere special 
Clouds stayed with me they didn't leave 

- - - later now - - - 

Dimly through the mist I can see 
Still holding tight I'll not let loose 
Clouds are all I have it's been years 
Feeling safe with them, here I stay 
 _ _ _ _ 


 _ _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright,  Jimmiehov  2020, All Rights  Reserved
 - Photo courtesy of Sunday Muse at the link below
 - I'm linked with http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/02/sunday-muse-95.html?m=1
 _ _ _ _

My sister-in-law was airlifted via helicopter Sunday morning to the Shreveport LSU Hospital. 
They gave her wonderful care, ER, ICR, and Friday discharged to her hometown hospital for inpatient therapy. 
She will have speech,  physical, and occupational therapy.   She has heavy needs in all those areas.
We, the rest of family, and many, many others are praying for her, her recovery, and loving family.

A Ditty Poem for Wednesday

What goes up must come  down 

The skeletons in your closet 
They are to be worried about 
Those things will come out in the wash 

What to do what to do--there's hope 
Why were they in the wash machine 
Who was watching this bloody act 

Did you heed Tide cleans things better 
There's hope those dry bones get whiter 
 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 
- I am linked with Magaly Guerrero with Weekly Scribbles in the Writers and Poets United site at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/02/weekly-scribblings-6-turn-cliche-into.html?m=1 
 - Magaly has asked for us to write using a cliche or cliches to write.   I used several.  On the above link she has a list of cliches we use, GO THERE to see how many are in your working repertoire. 
 - A Ditty Poem,   http://buffysilverman.com/how-to-write-a-ditty/

A Poem for Sunday

It's That Time;
  a polar bear love song 

Wake up Momma
it's that time once again
Spring Moon has risse
baby making time

I've missed you so
your shaggy white bod
That tender nose
lovely in all ways

I dreamt of you
alone in your cave
That lovely snore
I'd pass now and then

You're awake and
the ice is flowing
Hop on a hunk
first lets kiss once more

Travel to where
salmon are spawning
Sitting so close
Make love all the way
_ _ _

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
÷ Photo credit and Muse linked to Sunday Muse at http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/02/sunday-muse-94.html?m=1
 - And I have also linked it to Rommy Cortez-Driks in the Writer's Pantry  at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/02/writers-pantry-6-and-stars-make-love-to.html?m=1

A Poem - Wednesday

               (A yam)  

I was the flower 
that didnt bloom 
Planted by an a-
ngel then she left 
Left alone I cried 
she didn't know 
Gangly ugly scared 
growing up strange 

Alone in a crowd 
I'm different 
Lonely I knew not 
what others had 
Two by two engrossed 
what did they know 
Blossoms of beauty 
enjoying life 

Unnoticed and dull 
here by the side 
Hoping now that  I 
am more mature 
We all can't be hunks 
or beauty queens 
That thought holding me 
still hope and dream 

Someone caring now I'm glad you came 
Not like others a 
Christmus Cactus 
Sweet considerate 
your inside shines 
Happy pair our in-
side bloom shines through 

My dream  

   (A Christmas Cactus)
 _ _ _ 

 - Photos and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019 and 2020, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked to Sanaa  Rizvi with Weekly Scribbles #5, at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/02/weekly-scribblings-5-mouthful-of-flowers.html?m=1

 - The Christmas Cactus is in our Breakfast Room in the corner by the back door.  It is at least seven years old and this year is its first time to bloom.  The yam was found on Wikipedia using a google search.

A Poem - 55-Word Flash and Word List

 

Scammer Remorse

Underworld profits beckoning 

Colonnade pillared mansion needs 

Seethe as the suckers surely will 

Crescent moon shines over us both 

Faint and fainter it's image grows 

Sunshine day after tomorrow 

East still the brightening  suns will rise 

Brooding no longer they will be 

Foolish people come every day 

Silver lines their pockets for me 

 _ _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - I'm linked with Kerry at her home of my ten word list, https://kerryoconnorsother.blogspot.com/2020/02/a-skylover-wordlist-sufferance-at-dawn.html?m=1 

 - I am also linked with Magaly  Guerrero at the Writer's Pantry at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/02/writers-pantry-5-tiny-light-at-end-of.html?m=1

 - This is a 55 Word Flash Poem having 55 words with the title.

A Weekend Poem

Mixed Up 

It's a crazy mixed up world 

Up is down and down is up 

The whole land has gone that way 

Get my bearing against the wall 

Steak and avocado breakfast 

Grits eggs bacon and toast is lunch 

Then dinner comes cereal 

Against this steady wall I lean 

Body color we're all dress blue 

Rules of cover conservative 

That means covering more below 

Does more show than collar's above 

My mind changes with color of day 

Mornings must be blue when we write 

Green yellow orange afternoons 

Darkened some means organized play 

Happy time to come based on whims 

Taking care for snooper's glass floors 

Therapy for the birds.  
Their needs 
While we recite our poetry 

 _ _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 

 - 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo Prompt with Carrie Van Horne at

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/02/sunday-muse-93.html?m=1

Here I rotated the original "Pencil vs. Camera Art" (at Ben Heine Art Photography [link], mixing drawings wish camera photos) pictured there counter clockwise 270 degrees.

A Poem for Midweek Scribbling

     Dog and squirrel

New Tricks 

The kid was happy happy 
Happy over the new book 
Given by an aunt and read 
Read over night ready now 

Titled One Hundred New Tricks 
Next off to show eager friends 
Is there a kid in the world 
One that doesn't like new tricks 

Called the dog on the way out 
Would be the helper today 
Kissed Mom in passing.  She winked, 
"Dogs are slow to learn new tricks" 
 _ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2014 and 2020 (photo first at https://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2014/10/dog-and-squirrel-games-challenge-writing.html?m=1
 - I'm linked with Rommy, Weekday Scribbles at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/01/weekly-scribblings-4-new-tricks.html?m=1

- the topic for our Weekly Scribblings is “New Tricks”. Rommy would like us to consider the phrase “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks”, and express any thoughts we might have on it in either poetry or prose form.

A Prose Poem of one clothes dryer's thinking

My dryer has tales

The stories I hold in my repertoire are of many kinds, I sort them by color, sex, and size.  In other words you will never know of what in my belly I be hold.

You'll be surprised.  Shirts by viewing, color, sex, size I categorize, makes sense to me.

Bursting through the door much to be told comes one orange and dark blue.  Stripes round and round prove him to be bold and brash.  Loud of mouth and lusting with the eye, not to be trusted after dark.

Following by a nose also bursting out comes two-tone blue, shouting curses and vulgarities.  Typical for the stripes is the loudness but not the foul mouth,  it comes with length of body.

Only one woman this time, I let her be first.  Wearing white with tiny blue stars and narrow cuff and collar she was looking very clean.

Efficient too, sex and the stars tell us this.  The color of the stars, average blue, shows her high speed in the endeavor she might try.  Partly why she was first.  Timid also because she was so small, size 4P.

Next to come was a pull over T-shirt with a pocket, black in color, black is always sad.  Solid color, not stripes, quiet and reserved.  Some others in my fold will say "reserved is for the dead." There's another solid black, more of a sport with a collar, fine for any golf club.

Today's wash hold only one red, red tends to excite the rest and others too.  Neither I nor the red understand the psychology of instigating this horrible attribute. 

Green means calm and cool.  We chat while they are going round and round and back and forth in the broth.  Green is always good for conversation although they have a tendency to tell some lies.

Four are cotton with patterns.  Favored is blue again with sail boats, palm trees, and picnic tables.  I love hearing reports of a picnic or a trip to the beach or a sail boat ride. 

All for today.  

They're soldiers one of a kind in loyalty yet they are different as wet and dry in their inner person, purpose and personality. 
 _ _ _

 _ _ _

 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved  - I'm linked with Magaly Guerrero in the Writer's Pantry #4 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/01/writers-pantry-4-let-poetry-and-prose.html 

 

 - Since this tale of tid bits is limited by the rules to be 369 or less words, I pruned it sharply to 368, but to the better.  I did have to leave out some, I had wanted to include the story of spilled grape jam that left a long purple streak and how he (another pale green guy) was feeling better now as the streak had washed away.  Real exciting.

 

Psalms 36:6 -- Dogs go to Heaven!

 

A Sailor's Short Poem

Sailing the Open Seas 

I sail the open Seas 
Popeye the Sailor Man 
Was my  childhood idol 

Now I'm grown and strong 
Living my childhood dreams 
Big ships and little boats 

Wherever I can catch 
a ship to swab its deck 
Sailor Man I'm for hire 

I cook a mean beef stew 
or fry the fish I hook 
 _ _ _

 - Photos and Poem  Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
 - I am linked with Sanaa Rizvi who is hosting Weekly Scribbles  at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/01/weekly-scribblings-3-salt-water-poems.html?m=1

 - The photo of Old Salty is of my favorite Old Maid character.  The 'at sea' pictures are some of the many I took on my Sabbatical 30 day cruise from Dubai to Cape Town with stops along the way. 

A Poem for the Pantry

Reminiscing London Strolls; 
take a walk through the neighborhood; 
forty +/- reasons while living in London is the best

you, an Internet friend, had me walking at the old church park at St. John's Wood, and then into the leaf strewn paths through the old cemetery. There squirrels and moss covered unreadable tombstones standing crooked were waiting to join me. (St John's Wood--Wikipedia link)

A neighborhood playground
The little man at the gate house
Kids
Big kids and adults too
The spinning wheel we'd all be falling off
The swings with sitting small children, "push me higher Papa"

Morning walk up Abey Lane
Greeted at the corner, entrance into the street, swarming with camera toting tourists
Passing the old recording studio, Beatles early songs in my head
Waive to the web cam under the tree up on a pole
The old church, Abbey Road Baptist now, hoping to convert the Muslims to know Jesus

Things wear down in glamour at the next light, turn left to Abercorn School
Or walk on past a little too far for walking back.
Big Red double decker Bus 39 will take me/us back
Farther still the train awaits

But walking past the school, past the park, there's the little Beatles Memorabilia Store, records, eight track tapes, cassettes,  or why not a CD?

Walk across the street, corner store
I'll have a Magnolla Bar, ice cream
Need a box of porridge (oatmeal)?

Beatle singer, Paul McCartney's house, wave, throw a kiss
On the way to the Cricket Stadium
St John's Wood park again
Come back up High Street, pass the library and the street little pancake, what do we call the thin ones, Crêpes.  I'll have Nutella and Black Raspberry jam on mine
Could have had a Gelato cone (ice cream) coming back before the library instead of the crepe

Turn right, there will be my flat, come on in
What'd I miss, visit and we'll  check things out
For sure I forget the Tube entrance, escape to downtown London 
 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 
 - I'm linked with Magaly Guerrero In the Poetry Pantry at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/01/writers-pantry-3-be-warm.html?m=1 

 - This is intended to be seen as a rough draft, jotting my thoughts for a further effort. Here it is more prose than poem though in part it is in stanza form.  A prose poem?
 - My thoughts in writing this bit is that the end writing be as a note to a friend, perhaps in London, maybe not, for the friend to keep in mind the joys I/we had.  And the whys one would want to live there.  In it I recalled some of the times I or we had while being there in St John's Wood.  I would also benefit myself from recalling these moments and more. 

A Poem ~~ Mythology Inspired

Rocks and Hard Places

Challenge for us come sail with me
Scylla and Charybdis* await
I'll care for you through travel threats
Hold you tight calm shivers and shakes

Scylla brings hard places in life
Charybdis swirl swallows our love
Though our ship be new and untried
We'll hold tight safely guide her through
_ _ _

Note:
  * Comes the saying, "caught between a rock and a hard place."  Scylla and Charybdis were sailors' fears named, or at least written of, by Homer in his Oddessy works.  Scylla referred to a sea monster living in the rocky Italian shore and Charybdis was in a huge vortex swirling near Sicily.   It was either attempt sailing between these threats or going around the large island, Sicily,  in the treacherous open seas.  (Reference Wikipedia,  linked here) 

 _ _ _

 - Photos and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
 - I am linked with Rommy at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/01/weekly-scribblings-2-myth-placed.html?m=1

A seond Poem for 2020

 

My Valley

My valley is green when the sky is blue
The sun shines most every day, chlorophyll 
Chlorophyll does its work best in sun's warmth 

When the sky is cast over with dark clouds 
And the much needed rain comes down in sheets 
Then in darkness of the night roots soak up 
After which my valley is greener still 

So when troubles befall like the rain falls 
They make you grow strong like your valley green 
 _ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
 - I am linked with Sanaa Rizvi at Weekly Scribblings, Prose and Poetry United, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/01/weekly-scribblings-1-january-is-here.html?m=1

 - Sanaa has asked us to write using at least three of the following word group.
 - I used darkness, cast, warmth, and sky.

amaryllis                  somewhat                percussion                darkness                  grapefruit
deep                           cast                         warmth                       blood                          touch
gravel                        twilight                    lips                              sky                             sleep
bedside                      scones                     fervour                      harbinger                 cogitation

New Poem for 2020

Meet Me

They said meet us at the chapel
I came when they asked, they were not
Only a scrawny little lass 
She smiled at me, that was my end

I twisted the Knob, chapel gate
Oh, it'll be closed 'til next week
She came a bit closer to me 
My body told me I'd had it

Like changing the subject. I tried
Nothing else I twisted again
Of no help we walked down the street
Chatting my Muse gave words to me

Six months later I turned the Knob
She was waiting in Wedding Dress
 _ _ _ _

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked with Magaly Guerrero with Poets and Story Tellers United at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/01/writers-pantry-1-home-is-people.html?m=1
 - NOTE: I hope to be forgiven as I posted late with Magaly so I'm trying early this time.  My Sabbatical will be ending this week.  I hope to return comments better.  And to boar with a 'short' rundown of my time away.  Magaly is at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/01/writers-pantry-2-storms-and-stones-and.html?m=1  this week.

 - Although this story poem is made up in a way it is similar to the way Mrs. Jim and I met.  I wasn't looking for a wife but she was waiting, having been told by my roommate that "Jim might come." 
 - I wanted to write a First for 2020 for the Writer's Pantry even though I am still on Sabbatical. 

A Last Poem for Bill and for the Imaginary Garden

 

Five Petaled Tulip 

(Photo by Jimmiehov)

Goodbyes

Goodbye is hard to say when one knows they on earth won't
see each other again

A farewell not enjoyed
Words we like not to hear
But "Goodbye" I must say

A goodbye we must say 
Our friendship here must end 
Part we must, wipe our tears

Goodbye now, Heaven waits 
_ _ _  

 - For our friend, Bill

 - I changed my write this morning. 
We have sadnes for a friend who just died. "Bill" is thirteen years younger than me and leaves a wife his age. Plus kids and grandkids as we. 
His funeral is today, January 2 at 11:00CDT.
We will not be able to attend.

Copied from onituary 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights Reserved
 - I am linked with Kerry O'Connot in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/12/the-imaginary-garden-with-real-toads.html?m=1

 - This is a "Say it Again" poem linking to "KERRY ~ LET'S FIND OUR POETIC VOICE."
 - It will be' my last poem linked to our beloved Imaginary Garden which is closing today.