Saturday, August 13, 2016

This Bee Doesn't Fit ~~ a 'Poem' for the Weekend Challenge

The bee that does not fit

The bee that does not fit in that is me
I came from afar, with my mom and Pa
Riding in my Gypsy wagon was me
See me coming people hide their children
Else that child and this one surely I'll take

Learned the law of the outcast, stay away
Don't come near, save our chickens and the pigs
Soon they too could be in that Gypsy bus
No school house for me, I learned from my Pa
Do what you got to do and do it quick

Watch for the Sherriff, take his watch and chain
Be a man with us, with them the other
They hate the man and cheat on his wages
They don't see the man, call him a hobo
The woman oil your skin, they'll take pity
_ _ _ _

Images for Gypsy from Google:

Photos and Poem Copyright 2010 and 2016, @ Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
Images for Gypsy, a screen capture from Googling the word, Google

I'm linked with Magaly at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Which Bee?

Magaly gave us this little poem below for the Weekend Mini-Challenge and asked to write, in three stanzas, from the viewpoint of one of the three bees there, the queen bee, the hardest working bee, or the bee that does not fit in
I chose the latter.

To be successful,
One has to be one of three bees:

The queen bee,
The hardest working bee,
Or the bee that does not fit in.

One success is inherited,
And the next one is earned.
While the last one is
And happens on its own

~ “The Three Bees”, by Suzy Kassem

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Saturday Morning Poem, "Traveled to ..."

Traveled to ...

Calling all poets, "do a write for today 
on three of your favorite towns"   
Alright, I will try.  There are so many,
I've been to all fifty states

London and Paris are on my list,
aren't they on everyone's?  Been to London
the most, probably visits would add up
to several months, try five?  Well, more than four.  
Last time was this spring  

Visits to London have been my favorite
ever since way before I ever went
Before my days at school even, I learned
one must "look under the Queen's chair for ...
for the little mouse living there" 

By golly now, I have done that, 
my first visit to London I did,
back in the eighties.  Mouse was gone

Paris is next, I've been all over France
Time spent rivals that in the U.K. 
Eat your heart out, but I love going there  

Favorite thing there is eating a hot dog  
You can get them along the Seine from a stand,
try to see, it maybe near the Eifel? 
This one there will be a nice long but thin
sausage stuck inside a cut to length baguette  

Tell them before if you want mustard, they
will squeeze it into the hole in the bread
before poking the dog on down.  Now walk
along the Seine, taking in the boats and sights

Or at a pub (don't say that word in France)
it will be two sausages laying on
a small loaf, French bread, longer than batard 
Lying underneath those dogs will be a
little lettuce, wilted from the oven's heat  
On top is melted cheese, probably Swiss  
Add a cut tomato laying along
the sides, broiling just a bit with the cheese

You'll get it hot from the oven, Yummy  
Mustard and onions to suit, and head for
the street again.  Or have it there with a drink

My last of three will end, old stomping grounds
Lots of firsts there, some can't be told, ever 
Worst I will tell is when the town marshal
called me in to the principal's office

We are at Tekamah, Nebraska, small 
There you will find the world's best high school 
Graduate young there, try sixteen  
Your English teacher may be twenty or
twenty-one.  For sure young enough for a
high school teacher crush

But across the street and up a block is
the best place in town to visit.  Called the
Burt County Museum, it's open a few
days a week, check before you come.  For sure
it'll be open on Saturday but
never on a Sunday

Come May there will be "Coffee on the Porch"  
(act like a native but you can not hide) 
on the last Saturday morning before
the Alumni Banquet at the City 
Auditorium.  Free, small donation?

That's my list, I hope you endured.  I did,
living every minute and more here on
my writing machine back in 'Mega' Texas

_ _ _ _


[click on any picture for larger viewing - ask about any in a comment, I'll answer soon (or later)]

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

I am linked within the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Travel: Get Listed for August.
His request: "This month, the twist on the list is this: pick *at least* 3 cities / locations that you have visited, want to visit, or wish you never had. Can be fact or fiction. Why were/are you there? What did you do / are you doing there? Are they, or how are they connected?  All in iambic pentameter.  :) Just kidding. Form not required."

My photos are from a search of my other blog, Jim's Little Blog, mostly here:
 - London visits:
 - Paris visits:
 - Tekamah visits:
 - "Hot Dog" visits:

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Tuesday, August 09, 2016

A rock from my collection ~~ Poem material?

This little rock of mine;
it almost talks to me

This flat little rock of mine 
been around for a long time
No ordinary rock this
Origin, Himalayas

There it lay, mountain topping
Rolled down one day not stopping
Shaken by the rumbling earth
Losing hold its sunny berth

Stopping then on the plateau
Warmer, didn't want to go 
But not for long could it stay
Monster grabbed, ran for the Bay

Strange creature this, O so cold
Icy, large, so very bold
Unnamed glacier inched along
Grinding my stone, eons long

Once so large in stature, now
a few inches, made to bow
Dumped in wet, nasty man he
Tumbling then, the River Li

Eons passed again once more
River calmed, had lake with shore
I came along, skipping stones
Liked flat ones size of Brit's scones

There out in the water a bit
Found this pretty stone, a hit
Almost flat, green dullish glow
But wait, way too nice to throw

I kept this rock, pocket sized 
A female rock I surmised
Lovely looking shiny wet
I've kept her fifteen years yet

Listen, she said "please keep me,
I need to be loved, Jimmy"
I have these years, China doll
Pretty when wet, I did fall

_ _ _ _

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

Today I'm linked with the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform,
Tuesday Platform is open forum, hosted, or imagined, this week by Marian.

Marian was introducing Adrienne Rich, who said the following:

"A poem can come out of something seen, something overheard, listening to music, an article in a newspaper, a book, a combination of all these… There’s a kind of emotional release that I then find in the act of writing the poem. It’s not, ‘I’m now going to sit down and write a poem about this.’"
I decided to write this poem as I washed the washed off my little rock which usually sits on my bathroom vanity.  I thought of that day on the River Li in China (link, very pretty also). 

We were taking a break (probably the cook wasn't on schedule for our lunch meal, a China Buffet) from a day cruise there.  It was so very pretty!!  I think the striations may be green jade.  Those shine and look so very pretty when wet!! 

Note: Pictures below are from "Google Maps."  They depict how far my little rock probably traveled before being hijacked by me and flown to Texas.  Click on them for a better view.

p.s. It's hard to keep seven syllable meter, but I tried.

 ......Other of my writings/posts about rocks, link.

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Sunday, August 07, 2016

a New Word poem ~~ Flash 55

New word in town; 
meet "Lacuna" 

Now and then I learn a new word 

Be it big or small, nice or not, 
Brittle or chewy, sweet and sour 
"Lacuna" sounds Spanish to me 

Not sure what I was thinking of 

Schoolboy, say it one hundred times 
"Lacuna" today, gaping teeth 
'Twill be forgotten tomorrow

_ _ _ _ 

Photos Copyright 2016, 2016, and 2011 and Poem Copyright 2016, © Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 - Top Photo (2016) -- Probably from our 2007 (2007 link 'a' ) (2007 link 'b') visit to Scotland, but not posted before.  It is an unusual semi-detached cottage situated next to a Church of Scotland chapel we found out in the country but I have no idea now where we were (I sure do hope it is my picture, one that I took!!). The property must be over 100 years old and was probably was once the residence of the pastor or church beadle.
 - Middle photo (2016) -- I took this one during our train ride to visit Northamptonshire this summer.
 - Bottom photo (2011) -- [large picture] [super sized] If you like art then go to Europe. We found this Cézanne original in the Lautrec Museum in Albi, France. It is by Paul Cézanne (1839 to 1906) and yes, he was pretty quirky. (For more of our trek to the Albi click here.)(Cézanne Wikipedia link)
Tonight I'm linked with Kerry O'Conner at her post in the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Flash 55 Plus!  [ ]

As usual for the Flash 55 Plus! post it must (1) be exactly 55 words and (2) preferably use Kerry's new-to-me word, "Lacuna".  I did both, counting my title. 

Lacuna: a noun
an unfilled space or interval; a gap.
"the journal has filled a lacuna in Middle Eastern studies"
  • a missing portion in a book or manuscript.
    a cavity or depression, especially in bone.

    Hence my schoolboy with missing teeth (a gap, a "lacuna").

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