Tuesday, September 27, 2016

a Poem, another day in the life

The doctors are keeping;
   if it weren't for them ...

Doctors are keeping my generation alive
Weren't for them I'd be dead and my wife
would live her life in a wheelchair
The doctors are keeping me alive
and us a going.  The doctors are

Sometimes it's not fun growin' old
But someone's gotta do it

So we get up early and fight the traffic
Like back in those old days of work and
fighting traffic, haven't forgotten how
Held my place driving, twenty or eighty
mph the freeway goes. Jousting match

Sometimes it's not fun growin' old
But someone's gotta do it

Take our blood and chest X-rays
EKG tells no lies on me, little ones for
her.  Blood pressure's high for the Mrs.
Little low for me. No new pills this time
What we're doing must be fine. You can go

Sometimes it's not fun growin' old
But someone's gotta do it

Fasting since midnight, laxative for me
My "Peripheral Vascular Sonogram"
The lady can come back next week,
stress test (I'll fight the traffic again)
Check her Branch Bundle Block, find its cause

Sometimes it's not fun growin' old
But someone's gotta do it

Now we can eat and drink, The twelfth floor
for coffee at the outpatient admission office
pretend we belong.  Next to eat at our favorite,
Cajun food, Beans and rice Shrimp poboy
Macy's next, minutes few, look at shoes

Sometimes it is fun growin' old
And someone's gotta do it

Twenty-eight miles driving like a pro
Stopping those two times, food and shop
Traffic picked up, few minutes became ninety
Get the mail, park the car, carry the packages
TV on, chairs back, feet  up. Nap time for us
Doing our part. Populate the earth
Another day in the life of an older person

Sometimes it's not fun growin' old
But someone's gotta do it

_ _ _ _

Photos and Poem copyright, © 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved

I'm linked with Kerry O'Connor at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/09/the-tuesday-platform_27.html

The Tuesday Platform is a free day, with no prompt in particular to write for, of, or of our thoughts arousedKerry introduced us to a deceased children's writer, Roald Dahl, and to some of his works.  She marveled how prolific he was and the great mark he has left for us who follow. 

Likewise, she remarked how we who write and post here are leaving our mark on this earth, what it may be.  I would ask you to follow the link above and check him out.  After that perhaps Google him.  You probably have met up with some of his work.

Note:  The top picture was taken from my doctor's office which is on the 27th floor of the O'Brien Tower, formerly named the St. Luke's Tower.  The lower picture is of the Ragin Cajun restaurant where the best Cajun food in Houston cafes may be found (although Mrs. Jim's Red Beans and Rice are much better.  She is from Louisiana.).

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Saturday, September 24, 2016

Take a Ride ~~ a Friday Night poem

   [2001 Chevrolet Corvette from M S N  Autos]

Take a Ride

Come take a ride with me
It's Friday night to spend
Would you spend it with me

Let's cruise Main Street tonight
My gas, get you a shake
We can cruise till we tire

Say look at us makin'
Where you can hide we plan
Makin' it makin' out

Let's get wild a wee bit 
We'll hustle us a drag
This Chevy burns rubber

Beats the Fords all but one
We'll win.   The dance is hot
Edge of town music flows

Friday night after that
Can last until the morn
Smiling light Sun is ours

Babe won't you please say yes
You'll take a ride with me
Friday nights can get wild
_ _ _ _

Poem copyright, © 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved
Photo is of a 2001 Chevrolet Corvette from M S N  Autos

I'm linked with

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Thursday, September 22, 2016

Sidekicks -- a Love Poem of sorts, not real mushy


Growing up Sidekicks

Growing up on our farms, a blast for me
The days before local gangs developed
"Them Boys" as we were called cared for the hood
Sweet on this girl, she had a crush on me

Spending more time with her than with the boys
Learned life's lessons together, good 'n bad
First grade we'd pull aside, tease ecstasy
Was my sidekick, she had a crush on me

Always in each other's mind, setting life's stage
Living double lives, this the both of us
Mine the boys, then with her, her life the same
She for me, me for her, sweet crush on me

Sidekicks always develop more, ours did
Ecstasy learned put into practice, we
Teenage crush still, it matured.  Loved that girl
Her time was first, for sure the boys were last

Then one day we had to part, parent things
New school for her, far away, we lost track
The next I heard she had killed herself.  Dead
That part of her story I never knew 
_ _ _ _

Poem copyright ©, 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved
Photo copyright ©, 2011.  I took it on my favorite London street, a block ahead is Abey Road of the Beatles fame.  At that time out daughter lived in a flat inside the fence to the right. 

I am linked with at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Sidekicks in the Spotlight, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/09/sidekicks-in-spotlight.html

1.  This story has truths, fantasies, and fictions, a little of all three and other.  I don't kiss and tell.  Fact is though that two of the girls I had been sweet on have committed suicide. 
 - One I will tell, I grew up with Janis Joplin music and really liked her and her songs.  She did commit suicide, I still a record and a CD, that's all. 
 - Other girls and young ladies have had their crushes, I don't know why.  And they have different stories.
2.  Mrs. Jim and I have been married 43 years, we are sidekicks.  For real!
3.  Mrs. Jim thinks the couple in the foreground are both young ladies.  I think it is boy, girl.  I know that the couple walking ahead is one of each gender holding hands.
4.  Here is a poem, the second, bottom, written on/for my first grade crush.  The setting was the school storm cellar steps. http://jimmielife1.blogspot.com/2009/01/two-special-girls.html.

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Sunday, September 18, 2016

a Cheeseburger Limerick (poem)

National Cheeseburger Day

O Goodie, it's National Cheeseburger Day
I had mine for lunch, have you one today
Went to Whataburger
Senior drinks free, get urs
Not all give seniors free, some make us pay
_ _ _ _

Photo and Poem Copyright , Jimmiehov 2016, All Rights Reserved

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Yesterday ~~ a Poem for Weekend Mini Challenge

Yesterday Was Better

Yesterday was a better day
The table in the kitchen had mixed feelings
Elated by the day before
But this day was literally for the pits

Granny always washed the table
The night before.
It was ready for yesterday
A clean table cloth, red, black and white checkered

Napkins ready for the silver
(Granny's were made of stainless but
that didn't matter for her)
Center piece, ceramic chickens and ducks, her favorite

A crowd gathered yesterday about ten-thirty
Uncle Charlie, Aunt Belle, Cousin Pete, eight more
Watermelon for appetizer, chicken parts
And potato salad. Ice cream, pecan pie

In the afternoon croquette for all
Lizzie and her girls came over
They played too. Beat the others bad on the course
All chipped in, Pete  took home dirty paper, plastic

Talked and sang the night, Elmer had his guitar
Fae dropped in with a cake and more ice cream
Table in the kitchen smiled, Pete laughed last,
He'd left for better stuff, missed his cake, candles sixty-two

Now this morning the table cloth still on
Stained like a painter's palate, smelled of coffee, and more
It seemed to pout having this day's guests,
Lizzie and one girl stayed over, Granny made like she liked

Tomorrow would be better, table knew
_ _ _ _ _

Poem Copyright , Jimmiehov 2016, All Rights Reserved

I'm linked with Karin at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Following a Thread - Weekend Mini Challengehttp://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/09/following-thread-weekend-mini-challenge.html

Mine isn't real 'mini' but it's written, first and maybe only go around. My thread is this picture below, one Girl, Lizzie, and Granny.  
[click picture for larger size viewing, maybe try clicking again]
I also found a few park benches with better stories for another day. One I had written before is here:  http://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2015/10/i-sat-on-bench-artistoc-interpretation.html

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Friday, September 16, 2016

be a Sassy Lady ~~ a Poem about death

Death be a Lady

I'll take Lady Death any day
over Grim Reaper with his scythe
Cross my fingers, say a prayer

Some say she'd come with chocolates
And maybe a bottle of wine
nestled in her wicker basket

One of these days my junk
will be piled high on the street
Ms. or Mr. Death will have come

There's no taking back for sure
I count down to that day
Not up for a visit delay
_ _ _ _
Poem copyright , 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved
Picture, Sassy Lady Death, from Susie Clevenger's post,

Since this, my second poem about "If death were a woman, was posted late I am also linking it with the Real Toads, Tuesday Platform this week
I'm linked with Susie at The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads,
Bits Of inspiration ~ If Death Were A Woman (linked here and above)

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Thursday, September 15, 2016

Adi is gone ~~ a "We miss her" poem (reconstructed)

Of the day Adi died

Close the door, you're letting the air conditioning out
I need someone to talk to. With if you see fit so to do
I've been thinking of Adi dear dog, how she died.  Final day
Adi, love of my life, had been having seizures really bad

When in one she'd become incontinent poor soul laying there
She scared the bejesus out of us, thinking this time she's dead
But in a little while she'd get back up not knowing what went
We took her to her doctor that day, would be her final one

Her vet gave us some choices, take her home, let her die there
Put her in the doggie hospital, then to a nursing home
Our other choice, put her to sleep so deep she would never wake
We chose the latter.  The vet said she'd be back when we're ready

The vet returned, two needles in her hand. First would calm our dog
I held her paw, stroked her neck. She lay there, so trusting was she
Tears were in her eyes, the other needle came.  She'd like to stay
Our eyes were teary too, even the vet's, friends saying goodbye

Friends we were, us for seventeen years, the vet for several 
Adi and I were partners, registered pet therapy pair
Her friends at the home would miss furry friend, their dogs never came
But I would miss her most, I loved her most, my eyes tearing now

There on the doggie table Adi said her goodbyes, I saw
Holding her paw, feeling it quiver, then her eyes said it all
Through her tears she whimpered, "I love you guys." I hugged her, last time
"I'm going to God's Doggie Heaven, I'll see you when you come."

Adi died September 12, 2012 -- I miss her so very much, still today
_ _ _ _

Photo and Poem copyright, 2008, 2009 and 2016(Poem) Jimmiehov, All rights reserved
Photos copied from 2014 post which used 2008 photos,
These and more Adi posts on this blog.
 _ _ _ _

I'm linked with 

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Tuesday, September 13, 2016

9/11 remembered ~~ Poem for Tuesday Platform

Killed by Cowards

Firefighter, Police officer,
Salesperson, Customer, Poet, 
Trespasser,  Food handler, Mother,
Letter Carrier, Father, Host,
Who's forgotten?  All lives matter
Different times and places, global

Their lives mattered, were persons gone
Gone to another life, dead, killed
Killed by cowards who in silence 
Sprung their traps open, different ways
Killed by fire and destruction, all
Global, must be stopped, end it now 

Cowards festering hate killing
In name a god, a cause, not known
_ _ _ _

Poem copyright , 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved
Pictures from Wikipedia "Terrorism" article, (link)
Wikipedia pictures slide show (link) 
I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform

In honor of 9/11, Kerry brought this poem, And Death Shall Have No Dominion - Poem by Dylan Thomas

[click on a picture for better sized viewing, maybe two clicks, see]

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Sunday, September 11, 2016

Spirits, hobs, nymphs, sylphs ~~ a Poem, mixed and matched and melded

(Thinking of the night just ended, futile
  Futility, chasing demons away) 

Spirits, troubled, 

Spirits, troubled, live in the tree 
Dead tree, home for hobs and sylphs 
The nymps emerge, happy they dance 
While the spirits broil in the tree 

Nymph mother and spirit father 
Hollowed this tree hallowed it be 
The sylps renew and cleanse by night 
While the hobs roam spreading doom 

Spirit father, nymph mother, they 
Meld, mold them by pairs, life goes on 
- - - -
Poem copyright , 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved

I'm linked with Brendan at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Sunday Mini-challenge:  Charms

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Thursday, September 08, 2016

I Have This fear -- a poem, out of standard

I Have This Fear

I have this fear, haunts me
like a recurring dream
Though no demons visit
still it comes from within.

Fear doesn't go away
It stays and warms, I glow
Started, then I ignite
Spontaneous, combust

I fear spontaneous
combustion, evil death
'Twill be the end of me
I'm ashes in my mind
_ _ _ _

Photo and poem copyright , 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved

I'm linked with Izadore Guyre in the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Out of Standard - Fire from a Different Sun.

  - The photo was taken by my son, Tim, who, as a Boatman, had just untied this ship from the dock five minutes before.  The ship, leaving the Houston Ship Channel with its cargo, struck an obstruction in the water, leaking gallons and gallons of flammable liquid.  Some how the liquid floating on top of the water caught fire.  Causes and damages are still under investigation.  No life was lost.
 - Spontaneous Combustion is the burning of a human for no apparent reason.  This was common in 18th and 19th Century literature (a list of some).   I have read Dickens' Bleak House and also some references from Twain.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spontaneous_human_combustion (more information than you probably want to know there).

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Tuesday, September 06, 2016

Gold ~~ A Tuesday Platform little Poem


All that glitters is not gold

This glittering little red truck
is more precious than gold to me

Should you get a little red truck
take you where e're you want to go

My glittering little red truck
will cost an arm and leg to you

'Cause my precious little red truck
worth to me more than all the gold

Keep your gold leave my truck alone
_ _ _ _ _

Poem Copyright © 2008 Jimmiehov. All Rights Reserved

I'm linked with Marian in the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform.

Marian calls for a poem, old or new.  This one is old, back from 2008

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Saturday, September 03, 2016

The Little Fish ~~ a Flash poem (meaning 'short')

(The Little Fish) 
I am the
Little Fish
Swimming in my pond 
Swimming is my delight
Exploring my pond 
Seems there is always new
Sights daily to see 

I am the
Little Fish
Swimming in my pond 

I swim from morn to night
No bell on my tail 
People come, watch me swim 
Wink and wave for them
_ _ _
Poem Copyright 2016, @ Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved 
Photo courtesy of Kerry O'Conner, at
the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, 55 Words Plus!
The picture is copyright, 2006 by the Nigerian
painter, sculptor and musician known as Twins Seven Seven.
Kerry and I are claiming "Fair Use" of this painting copy
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
Kerry's Instructions:
My poem is exactly 55 words with NO TITLE. The title, "The Little Fish" is three words in parentheses to me means "do not count words for this."

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Friday, September 02, 2016

I play my Tau -- "poem" and "play" of sorts

The Taus

My instrument for the day will be, ...
It will be the Taus, my instrument 

I can't play it, never even saw 
But Google knows, knows full well what be

So from Google's mouth I can play
I play my YouTube loud as I can

Played for Mrs. Jim, my Taus YouTube
Right on she said, Indian music 

So I'll play for you, my Taus YouTube 
See what you think.  Indian music?

If you think it looks like a peacock
Well the experts think so too, they do
_ _ _ _

Photo and Poem Copyright 2016, @ Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved 

Taus, top photo is a "print screen" copy from Margaret's post,

I'm linked above with Margaret in the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Artistic Interpretations with Margaret - The Met's Musical Instruments Exhibit

Margaret had recently visited the Metropolitan Museum in NYC.  There she visited the Musical Instruments Exhibit and has on her post quite a few of the musical instrument she saw there.  I picked her Taus, a main instrument played to get the correct sound of Indian music. 

The two YouTube presentations below will make you think you have your radio tuned to a station located in India.  Please have a listen.  The Taus comes in at 1:52 on the second video if you want to hear and see it played with a bow.  The first also sound Indian but the strings are plucked rather than played with the bow. 
Well, I had the 'plucked' one on my iPad but can't find it here.  "trust me."


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