Monday, April 24, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 24, a Peacock Poem

Pretty Birds; You woke me 
You woke me up again today
Beautiful, many colored coats
But oh what a screech you do make
When you're below my window sill
Pretty boy and girl, travel in pairs
Walking down the street to my house
Early morning, day is dawning
Came to my house ready to yell
"Pretty bird," as Polly would say 
But you flew the coop late last night
Reveled the night away and now
Now at my house waking  the dead
I'll call your mother, she will fetch
Send you home for your daily groom
Now pretty bird, please for next time
Please don't come so doggone early
_ _ _ _ _
 - Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 - Photo: "Peacock at Magnolia Garden, SC" by Margaret at her post today, linked below    
 - I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, “Artistic Interpretations - Beauty, 
  --- - - and   
  - also to Day Twenty-four of NaPoWriMo

  The instructions from Margaret:
  • "For today's challenge, write about "beauty" or the symbolism that represents one of the most beautiful birds of creation, the Peacock - keeping in mind not all the myths, superstitions, folktales, and beliefs are necessarily "beautiful"."
  • Margaret has in her post, linked above, references to others who wrote of the beauty of the Peacock.  You might wish to check some of those out if you have time, also listen to video she found.  My favorite is found by clicking on the word 'HERE' in her line, "HERE is a fascinating link -  A few excerpts from the link are:"  It will take you to Minnie Mathews' research post, The Peacock in Myth, Legend, and 19th Century History.  Or you can graze the few excerpts she has posted.
  • My poem is relived from true experiences back in the 80's and 90's when we lived in Friendswood, Texas.  A neighbor down the street kept a coop having a pair of peacocks.  Their stay was almost part time as they could escape the coop, or they would get loose and be forgotten to be locked up for the night.  Invariably they would then sleep on top of their house and/or go wandering through the neighborhood, seemingly seeking us out for waking up to feed them.  Their call was the most awful screech you could imagine.

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Sunday, April 23, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 23, an Animal Poem

Ground Squirrel Running
I think that I shall never see
A rodent as lovely as the
little ground squirrel that crossed my path**
So hurriedly it ran in front of me
She was escaping the 4-10
A hunter had her in his sights
How do I know it was a 'she'
Not very hard this time of year
Mother's out to forage for food
Six hungry mouths to feed at home
There is no season on her kind
Colorado.  Shooting practice
Run, run, little squirrel that I found
Those babies need you every spring
_ _ _ _ _
 - Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 - Photo: Richardson's Squirrel photo, Richardson's Squirrel photo, Wikipedia

 - I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, “FASHION ME YOUR WORDS ~ The way you see it”, 

  --- - - and   
  - also to Day Twenty-three of NaPoWriMo

  The instructions from Gillena: "FASHION ME YOUR WORDS : The way you see it.
Choose a poem preferable one you think you know pretty well. Look upon it with a fresh new view. What is your reaction, after this reading? Now, write a new poem based on the way it triggers in you a response after this reading. (Do not post the poem you chose at your blog, add a reference link only, if there's one, or mention it in a process note)
Post only your reaction poem, the way you see it."

 - **My reference Poem is the first poem I ever memorized, "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)(He was killed by a sniper's bullet at the Second Battle of the Marne in 1918 at the age of 31), (Joyce Kilmer's life Wikipedia,
 - Trees, first two lines: 
"I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree"
 - Ground squirrel hunting in Colorado, "No season" means their is no closed season for breeding of the animals, etc.  Hunting is allowed at any time.  If the mother in my poem is killed the six babies (averaged size litter) will die of starvation.  Some groups are working for a closed period for hunting small animals in the spring while the mothers carry and then give their babies a start in life. 
 = Photo:

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Saturday, April 22, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 22 -- Poem - Open Door

Open doors;
  Happy lily ponds
Open doors and lily ponds 
They'll greet me fine today
On my way to work, herons
and grackles smile on me
Sun is shining, birds fishing
Little boys with sling shots
Those boys will be out that door
Moms, dads, my customers
It's going to be my day 
Nice for me and for sales
Doors will open for my knock
First sale my pots and pans
_ _ _ _

  - Photos and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 - Notes: 
 - - 1) The photo was taken while I was doing a morning walk at one of the trails in our neighborhood, over by  the mailboxes.
 - - 2) Many of my poems are purely hypothetical if they relate to me or to my feelings, others a mixture of being true or untrue.  This one is more fiction than truth as I definitely am not a door-to-door sales person, I am a retired college prof.  (Though one short time, I did try to sell pots and pans door-to-door while I was in the Army.  I only sold one set and tried to talk that couple out of finishing the sale.  They bought anyway.)
 - I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, “Bits Of Inspiration ~ Mi Young Lee , 
  - - - and   
 - also to Day Twenty-two of NaPoWriMo,


 - The instructions from Susie: " ... write an original poem inspired by this Mi Young Lee painting. It can be in any style you choose ... "  Susie had met the artist at an exhibition and she gave Susie this lovely print.  In it I saw among other things,  ponds, the heron waiting at the stream for a fish to go by, little boys about to harass the heron, and many opening doors on all the houses in the picture.  It sort of matched my photo.

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Friday, April 21, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 21 -- an Ode,

To My Memories
My lips are sealed, there are things I cannot tell
Sealed not by birth nor by surgery or accident
Sealed only because some things need not be told
Not by promise to anyone except a promise to myself
Some for money will say things that needn't be told
Others for release of bursting head memories
Perhaps I'm selfish, I do enjoy reliving those moments
If that was a sin then is it still a sin to savor them now
If my reasons for keeping mum are for none of these
Then you might ask, pray why won't you tell
And if you do ask I'll say my reasons I just won't release 
Keep these to myself, smile or cry, I will enjoy and mourn
_ _ _ _ _
  - Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 - Notes: 
 - - 1) The photo was taken while I was at one of my running away places (this may be true or 'truth embellished')
 - - 2) Many of my poems are purely hypothetical if they relate to me or to my feelings, others a mixture of being true or untrue.  This one is more truth than fiction.
 - I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, “I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream, 
  - - - and   
 - also to Day Twenty-one of NaPoWriMo,

 The instructions from Magaly: "I’m not exactly sure how old I was the first time I read I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream”,  by Harlan Ellison ... Can you imagine yourself being full of ideas and words and feelings and wants and urges and needs… and not being able to communicate them? Have you ever pictured yourself living in a world where you are not allowed to speak? ... (here she added 'we could add "for fear of punishment"'--which definitely did not apply to mine, at least anymore) ...  I invite you to create a new poem inspired by the title of Ellison’s short story ... "]

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Thursday, April 20, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 20 -- a Poem, Crows

Fourteen Crows
Fourteen crows came knocking at my door
The leader said to me, come outside
That was a mistake for me to go
But I went.
Again the leader asked me to bow
Bow to him as he was new in charge
I told him, Phewie, then turned and left
Not so fast.
Those fourteen crows quickly blocked my path
You can't go, we are taking your house
A place for the new world headquarters
I'll break your line.
Their line was tough as a steel cable
Speedy breakthrough was of no avail
Called my daughter, bring my gun, loaded
They cut my line.
Cutting the line did nothing for them
It was my cell phone that I had used
The call went through, my gun was coming
Birds understood not.
Their threat had weakened just a little
And things were looking a bit brighter
She arrived, handed me the weapon
Crows approached, mean look.
I had that shotgun on my shoulder
Took aim and fired the first round of shots
Three fell dead, I was getting ahead
Then I awoke.
_ _ _ _ _

 - Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Corvid and sit a while,
  - - - and   
 - also to Day Twenty of NaPoWriMo,

 The instructions: "So, write about crows, or from the point of view of a crow, or use them as metaphors. Just write about crows!"
 - Note:  The birds in my picture may not have been crows.  If not, they are related vultures.

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Wednesday, April 19, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 19 -- a Poem, Love

My love for you has no end
From the start I liked you, very much
Your smile, your humor, your compassion
Add your sweetness, the way you carry
Angel prompted, a mix made just right
We blended into a sweet bundle
'Opposites attract' they tell, peach, pear
When together, my body, my mind
Said to me, you love her, let her know
When I'm with you my body tingles
Tongue thinks only sweet morsels of praise
Together, laugh and play, sit and talk
I couldn't think of being without you
I know I love you, precious jewel 
And now I hope you can love me too

- - - - - -  
 - Mrs. Jim and I have been married for 44 years.

 - Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Poems in April - Poetry through the eyes of Carol Ann Duffy,
  - - - and   
 - to Day Nineteen of NaPoWriMo,


 - Sanaa told us about Carol Ann Duffy, the first woman Poet Laureate of Britain (link), and asked us to "write about love, using a common everyday image. Choose your own form ..."  For more and Carol Ann's lovely love poem which compared the writer's love to an onion click here. 
 - The photo of Mrs.. Jim and me was taken by a sunbather on January 3, 2016.  We were walking on the beach at Cozumel, Mexico.

 - Since I have never had any poetry writing formal classes, my only learning was of some elementary fundamentals in my English classes, high school and college.  I also read a few books, parts of them, and glean from the Internet.  Plus sometimes the Toads have short explanations of varying forms and the like.  And a lot from the Internet. 

 - I had never formally learned to write a love poem, so I went to the Internet and found a   Poetry Site which had simple directions for writing a simple love poem.  Using these directions I have written two other love poems of sorts which were well received by loving poetry group members (
link to these poems plus a link having a few other off the cuff love poems and some about love. 

 - Here is a copy of the 1,2,3,4,5 instructions that I wrote by.  I have lost the reference to them.

Now, the poem's directions:
Write a love poem
(here, written as a man telling a woman of his love for her)
1.  tell how you felt when first you saw her
2.  tell how you knew it was her you loved

3.  tell now about being with her
4.  are you happy with what you wrote, edit as necessary?5.  discard thoughts that didn't fit 

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