Turned Blue?

Turned Blue?
.

My sweet potato has turned blue

I'll love her no matter what hue 

  .

Long legs, loved by every man

Shapely, muscled, browned summer tan 

  .

Dimples, hidden, on her smooth cheeks

I know they're there, loved them for weeks 

  .

She was a sweet thing, once so hot

Though Adam's rib knockoff she's not 

  .

Her smile is like summer night's flirt

My sweet potato, came from dirt

..

- - - - -
.  ..

Picture and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved.

Today I am linked with Kerry at the Real Toads Sunday eChallenge (link)
And again Monday with her at the Real Toads Open Link Monday (link)

Notes: 
1) Kerry's challenge was to be avant-garde.  In form I'm probably definitely not like these words of hers:   "Remember the basic precepts of the school of avant-garde art is to be innovative, ahead of your times, bold, courageous and visionary."  Perhaps my words might be.

For sure in form I'm most basic with this standard five stanza couplet (link)(At the link, the writer said that "even young children can write couplets.")
Also I am aware that the 'number' of my pronouns is singular while I have numerous (three) moldy sweet potatoes in the picture. I took the picture before I ever thought of writing a poem to one, the loveliest, of them. 
2) These baked sweet potatoes which served as inspiration for this 'poem' we found in our refrigerator when we came back from our recent seven week holiday (47 days-a transatlantic cruise and a month in May).  They were covered in blue mold.



Talk Turkey

Talking Turkey 

I say there old chap, Mr. Turk.  Do you have safety insurance?

Gobble, gobble.

(Interpreted as "I don't speak'a da English") 

I mean, do you have protection?  Protection from bad things happening?

Gobble, gobble?

(Interpreted as "Protection, how does that go?") 

It means that if anything bad happens to you, our insurance will pay.  And if we see something bad happening, we will protect you from harm."

Gobble, gobble.

(Interpreted as "I don't see any need for that.") 

Just last week Snorky had some of the ducks eating from his trough.  Worse yet, they were swimming in his water bowl.  You know how nasty ducks can be?")

Gobble, gobble, gobble?

(Interpreted as "Now that sounds like maybe something I could use.  What would be the worst problem I might encounter?)

You could run into your owner, carrying an axe.  That would be bad.

Gobble.

(Interpreted as "Doesn't sound too bad to me.") 

Well it could be, especially if it were late fall.  That is Humans' holiday called Thanksgiving.  The main course at the table is Turkey.

Gobble, Gobble?

(Interpreted as "Would that affect me?") 

Yes it surely would.  With the axe he would cut your head off.  Then you would flop and squirm around in pain and looking for some air to breath.  Some fellows have drowned in their own blood trying to breath.

Gobble, gobble, gobble! Gobble, gobble?

(Interpreted as "Oh my goodness, help me now!  What does my protection cost?") 

The end will come very quickly then.  With the axe or more often another very sharp knife, he will cut you into pieces and quick freeze you.  Some are quick frozen before the cutting.  Some time later you will change hands and the new person will fry or bake you until you're brown again.

Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble?

(Interpreted as " Hurry, hurry!  Were do I sign up?) 

That will be $200 first.

"Yes Sir, yes Sir.  Here, I'm paying cash!"

- - - - - .  ..

Picture and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Today I am linked with Kerry at the Real Toads, Conversation Challenge (link)

 (Updated -- November 22, 2016)
Again linked with Kerry at the Real Toads, Tuesday Platform:
http://withrealtoads.blogspot.co.uk/2016/11/the-tuesday-platform_22.html
 

1.  For this challenge, Kerry wants us to select an animal, portrait, statue or any suitable companion of conversation that can be successfully addressed in Apostrophe. 2.  The entire poem should consist of the conversation, so any references to setting, characterization etc must be included in the words spoken.
3.  This is another of the animals at the Vauxhall City Animal Farm in Lambeth, London (link).  We visited there with our granddaughter, KP, while in London this May (link).

Contradictions here?

 [click on the pictures to enlarge, click again for larger still]

[the back button will return you to the poem]

Send me 

.

Send me a letter, send it to Ophir

Ophir, Colorado, will do just fine

I'll be there in a day or two or three

One thing, darling, I'm missing you greatly 

.

I miss you in the morning, then at night

When I eat my noontime lunch, I miss you

My heart aches and I can't sleep, want you near

Send my letter, have it wait in Ophir 

.

The city lights, the hustle and bustle

They're getting to me, I want to come home

Home to you sweetheart, but I can't come now

Business at hand holds hope to make for riches

 .

 

Picture and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 

Today I'm linked with Kerry at the Real Toads, Open Link Monday (link)

 

Note:  Most of the 'poems' I write are written with the intent that they can stand alone, independent of the pictures.  A few like this one I wrote with standing alone in mind but also meant for play with the pictures.

 

Actually the pictures here are not what would be inferred (my hopes) from reading the poem.  The top is a genuine U.S. Post Office, open a few hours some days, several miles northeast of Telluride.  The lower picture is of Mrs. Jim and I out for a walk through the little hills, foothills to the great Colorado Rockies. 

 

There in 2008, we were visiting Colorado-summering neighbors on our return to Texas from Nebraska after completing the Blogstock 'o8 celebrations (link).  I think we have aged a little now over the intervening six years.

To Them, to Us

. . . .

v - v - - - To Them, to Us

 

8 - a - - - He wished she would have said to him

6 - b - - - Please won't you spend the night

8 - c - - - Since she didn't that was okay

6 - b - - - Another day alright 

.
2 - d - - - Don't cry,

6 - d - - - Her inner being sigh

2 - c - - - Her way,

6 - e - - - Head to keep her heart mum .
.

8 - a - - - Meanwhile the two, heads in a swim 

6 - e - - - Await, right time would come

- - - - -
. Photo, poem Copyright, © 2011 (link), 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Today I'm linked with Kerry at the "Real Toads, Play it Again, Toads" (link)

Her model for me was from an earlier Challenge,Saturday, December 29, 2012 (link) to write a poem after the Robber Herrick's stanza form.
,
[The earlier instructions were that the first 4 lines follow the 8,6,8,6 (or 4 feet, 3 feet, 4 feet, 3 feet of iambic stress pattern) of Common Measure rather closely, but then the poet introduces a variation in his stanza from lines 5 to 8, of 2, 6, 2, 6 and then back to 8, 6 to close lines 9 and 10.  The Ryme scheme is to be abcb ddce ae.]

China sans pictures

China Things I Remember;

I have pictures but none to show

Been there and memories suffice

Climbed the Wall, sailed the dirty Yangtze

Ate the dumplings and lots of "pork"

.

Twenty-one days of my life spent

Spent there amongst the yellow race

Talked with teens in the Metro rail,

practicing their English on us

.

I remember most the boat cruise

Lijiang River, Guilin, China

With the Haystack hills protruding

They cooked us a meal on the boat

.

Toilets on the floor in the back

men's and women's, butts off the floor

Wine for sale, snake in the bottle

My pictures I'll find, not today

.





Li River Cruise Boats--our boat was larger (Photo credit, courtesy of Wikipedia at http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/7/77/The_Li_River.jpg/800px-The_Li_River.jpg )

Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Today I am linked with Hannah at the Real Toads, Friday Challenge 

Hannah wants us to share some things concerning China in a poem.  My visit there would have been better sharing if I had pictures of our visit.  Unfortunately I do but they aren't digital and are not in a book.  Some shoe box tucked away hides them for now.

So, yes, I've been to China, it was on my retirement bucket list.  We did most of the things tourists do, visited the Terracotta Warriors, saw the Panda Bears too, shopped the open and covered markets, rode in a rickshaw, visited in a home, walked over Tiananmen Square, and a whole lot more.

My Ship and Me

 

My Ship and Me 

.

When my ship comes in

It will be full of money

Gems and valuables

 

Private wharf I'll park

Spend for my needs and whims

Give away the rest

 

 

I'll buy my own hall

So my friends can have a ball

We'll dance--night be gone

.  ..

Picture and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

.

Today I am linked with Mama Z at the Real Toads, Words Count Challenge

 

Her challenge:  The number of the day is three. Throughout time and across cultures, the number three has been held as significant.   As it relates to writing, it's pretty simple, really. 

Three is more satisfying to a reader than two.  Three stanzas, three adjectives, three examples of something . . . three paragraphs, three elements, three rhymes . . . see what I mean?  Play with the rule of three in any way you like . . . just keep it to 90 words or less.

 

I wrote three Senryū (definition) stanzas; 17 syllables each X 3 = 51; 3 lines per stanza X 3 = 9; but best of all only 45 words, half of her maximum (please note, I did not count the title, by the time I decided what it would be I had already counted everything).   

The River

..
I looked up the river
.

I looked up the river for more

I saw what everyone else sees

Bridges, and boats going to sea
Children walking along the shore
But there was more than that, I knew
Men, women who built the bridges
Where are they now? On the edges
Famous and rich, only a few
.
More one does not see, nothing new
For every child who walks the shore
Those hungry and cold, hundreds more
Destitute, poor, more than a few
The river is pretty, bustling
Economic activity
Shows its best, yet a brevity
Shadows hide the beggars hustling

.  ..

Picture and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

.

Today I am linked with Kerry at the Real Toads, Sunday Form Challenge
and Tomorrow I will be linked with Kerry at the Real Toads, Open Link Monday

The Yeats Octave

The basic structure of this 8 line stanza is iambic tetrameter or pentameter (eight or ten syllable lines for those who do not feel comfortable working with meter), with the rhyme scheme:
a b b a c d d c. The poem may then consist of any number of stanzas.

.

I chose two 8 line stanzas in iambic (not perfect) tetrameter
.
I took this picture in May, 2014, looking South up the Thames River from the London Eye
 

Cats -- Guido Vedovato

I call this one, "Alley Cat, a Cat of the Night" (link)

.

Cats and then Cats;
and then 'cats' painted by Guido Vedovato

.

Yellow cats we have seen

White ones, grey and black too

Striped, spotted, solid

Calico  cats I love

They're yellow, black, and brown 

  .

God can make a kitten

And grow him big and strong

Some can draw a cat nice

The idea is plain,

can we can tell it's a cat? 

  .

Some are scrawny stick cats,

others elegant and

suitable for framing

Modern art changes that

Guido Vedovato**

  .

His, perched on braided rugs

Fuzzy plush toys they seem

Squeeze please and I'll squeal

Colorful, spotted cats

Like ones God doesn't make

 .

Picture, Poem Copyright, © 2012, 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 .

- - - - -

 .

**Note:  Click on that link to see a few of Vedovato's cats

 .**

I'm linked with Fireblossom Friday's Challenge at the Real Toads again where another "naïve" painter (and sculptor), the Italian artist Guido Vedovato was presented.

 .

The challenge was to "Take a look at these paintings by Guido Vedovato and see what poems you may feel inspired to write!" Due to stringent copyright restrictions, we were asked not to post any of his art work.

 .

I have several cat posts on my other blog, Jim's Little Blog.  You can see a few here.

Guido Vedovato
Wikipedia (Creative Commons)

Adelle's Pony

Adelle's Pony

. 

Adelle had a small pony

That there was no such critter

Adelle wouldn't hear of it

The pony followed Adelle

Wherever she was to go 

. 

The pony would make water

Whenever they were to go

No one ever saw the horse

But Adelle swore he was real

Wet and round puddles, they were 

. 

Those puddles proved to Adelle

The pony she had was real

No one ever saw the wet

Doesn't matter she would say

He's a boy, boys make puddles

 

- - - - -
. 

..Picture and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Today I'm linked with Susie Clevenger's Real Toads, Bits Of Inspiration ~ Maya Deren

Two of Maya Deren's poems (titled):

"Never Alone

1. Never alone! Never alone! There’s always somebody near Someone will follow me close to my bone. I’m never alone! Never alone! 

2. You may think that you are alone, But there’s always somebody near. That somebody finds out your secrets with ease, To your drawers he has all the keys.

3. ..."

"Untitled 
 
When rains come down to flood the town And earnest citizens really ought’er try to make and keep things sort’er dry…  I make water. 

When water’s rare and cattle’s dying and I’m as thirsty as can be and long for some water in me— God-damn it!  I still pee."

(a surprise completion of Never Alone and more of her unpublished poems is here)

Maya  (April 29, 1917 – October 13, 1961) was strange for her day.  Her movies used photography tricks, she was into Voodoo and studied and wrote enough to be an expert in the field and filmed actual Vodoun rituals extensively in Haiti.  Maya died at age 44, probably of malnutrition. (more -- Wikipedia)

Susie's instructions were to "Select a photograph, her movie, or her poetry [for inspiration] (or all three) and create a new poem." I used the two poems I copied above for getting my ditty started. You can see I was in a much lighter vein than Maya ever was known to be.

My picture was taken of a youngster in bringing for evening rest one of the ponys a person can ride at the Vauxhall City Farm in Vauxhall, Lambeth, London, U.K. (link)  Entrance to the park to visit the animals is free as are most publicly owned facilities in London, including the museums.  There is a charge to ride the horses.

City Kids -- Grace's Sunday's Mini-challenge

[large picture] [super size]

 

City Kids

 

Growing up through the cracks like clover, city kids they were. Almost wild, hatched on the sidewalk. Eggs dropped there by a bird.  Who their fathers were, nobody knows for sure.

 

Boys and girls, closely housed.  When they flowered that was another story.  Take advantage while you can. From the street, learn your lessons well was their motto. 

 

Some went on to become famous, others transplanted to homes on silk stocking row.  Still more spent their lives inches and yards away from their mama's home.

 

I was a lucky one, with a small bunch of others, we were plucked.  Plucked and away to become educated and married well (only some did the latter).  A few when plucked shriveled, died, and dried.

 

One thing I can say, I'm proud to be Irish, freckles, three and four leaves, and all.  

 

 

[large picture] [super size]
I picked this clump of clovers from the sidewalk leading to downtown Killarney, Ireland.

..
Pictures and Poem Copyright, © 2008 and 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 

Today I am linked with Kerry's Real Toads, Open Monday (link)
Sunday I linked with Grace's Sunday's Mini-challenge at the Real Toads (link)

 

Grace's challenge this weekend was to write about our insides with nature or season as inspiration. She said, "the prompt is wide open and feel free to use my title if it inspires you. Please write a new poem or prose poem or flash fiction (less than 250 words) and link up with Mr Linky."  My word count of this little prose poem is 140.

 

Note:  I am not Irish and did not grow up in the city.  A fourth of my blood is Manx (Corkhill family) although there was a great migration of the Irish to the Isle of Man in the 5th Century A.D.  Another fourth is English, with family names of Fletcher and Cram. The rest is German and undermined English ancestry.  And I grew up on a farm.

 

Originally I had posted these two pictures originally on Jim's Little Blog (link) in 2008.

Dear Friends

[view from our back porch, early in the morning]

[please click on picture for larger size] 

 .

Dear Friends;

or, hit the highway, please 

.

I'm writing you today

because another year is here

that I won't be there,

to visit with you 

.

It's been a while,

your crops are in,

why don't you take a break

and come see us? 

.

We can do Houston in, like 

take a ride up the Ship Channel

on the Fire Inspection Boat. 

.

We can visit a museum or two,

Houston has over twenty-five
Restaurants a plenty too, eat ourselves silly

.

Or we can play a round or two of golf. 

Again Houston has a plethora of these,

so very many of the 1041 courses in Texas. 

.

And we can keep you busy

with other things, exotic shopping, picnics,

or go to the beach, to a park or two of the many,

and so on and so on.  

.

But most of all I'd like to see you all, here. 

We are getting old, our bones are tired.

Driving isn't as much fun as it used to be,  

.

and to be really honest,

it's your turn to come down to our place

..
Picture and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

- - - - -

Today I'm linked with 'Herotomost' at the Real Toads, Lost Art (link)  

He thinks that letter writing is a lost art and has asked us to write a letter to a friend, a business, or most anyone.  I chose this one, but the message is correct to all my friends who live elsewhere, "please come stay a spell. "