Saturday, February 02, 2019

a Shape Poem, an Art Inspired Writing

Awake so soon
Head was aching
Belly somersaulting
He turned over to see
To see where he was
Remembering the 
night before
could not
There in the bed
A possible answer
to his dilemma lay 

Stirring she cooed
Darling you I love
His turning point
_ _ _ _

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights Reserved  
 - I'm linked with

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Friday, February 01, 2019

a Poem telling of a little Red Fox who is near me

The Fox under my Porch

A little red fox lives under my porch
We seldom have a personal visit
Seems to be that he is more shy than me

But he drinks the water I bring to him
Even though hardly ever I give food
He stays plenty plump living in the burbs

Come December or so his wife will come
Then in spring when she is hot they will mate
Seven weeks a new generation comes

Life would be dull for him but for my dog
Beagle she is her genes say chase and hunt
They run and play the game, she will not win  

     (Written with thanks to my Text Book Teacher,
     Poet Ted Kooser. His Website,
_ _ _ _

 - Photos and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights reserved (photo is a "Print Screen" copy, see my link below of these poems of Ken Kooser's work).
 - I'm linked with
 - Kerry would like for us to write honoring our favorite contemporary poet, perhaps deceased, as is Mary Oliver, or living.  I would like to credit Ted Kooser for help with my writing.  He is now a Professor of Poetry at the University Nebraska, was the 13th Poet Laureate of the United States, and has won a Pulitzer Prize for his poetry.
 - My writing here does not do him nor my book of his, The Poetry Home Repair Manual: Practical Advice For Beginning Poets (2005), justice though it has a little of his style.  Wikipedia, Poetry Foundation, or Google 

Above, a couple of Kooser's poems that I like from Poets Foundation, "Ken Kooser" search,?contentId=41842

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Tuesday, January 29, 2019

A not so little 'Sticky Poem for Tuesday'

When up was down

When up is down and down is up
Some days that isn't good, some days
it will work.  For sure it isn't all bad because
my doctor says it comes with age  

Trouble is then, that it never
comes when one can enjoy  
Like last night. 'Twas nearing twilight,
about thirty minutes before sunset  

I was walking along the road, near the edge
My feet were down but I wanted them up,
one at a time so I could walk 
That just wasn't working for me 

At first it seemed like gobs of gum or
glue were stuck to the bottoms of my feet
They'd move forward but oh so slowly,
slower than a shuffle was their progression
Practical progress not.

I had to sit down. But where? On the curb
was the only place.  I was quivering
all over my body,  my feet were tingling
Surely somebody would stop, but who?

Never having been robbed,
I wondered what that was like  
Why did I leave my phone with my kin? 
Alone now in their strange land,
that was a dumb thing I had done  

Cars were whooshing by, a few even honked 
None seemed to interpret my waving as
needing help.  Futile.  Oh my.  Finally, nearing 
dark by now, a big black car was stopping 
Could I ride?

They pulled alongside and stopped 
And asked for ID. I had none 
I could never ever expect something
like this would me befall. I tried to explain

They showed a badge but didn't speak
my language. I understood their command,
"Get in the car." Afraid to obey but
more afraid to not I got in their car 
Interrogation and to jail?

I had no idea where they would take me 
A choice I had none. So surprised was I to see
my hosts as the car slowed to a stop 
"Is this him?" those cops asked 

They all helped me walk into the house 
"He'd best go to the Emergency in the 
morning if he still isn't right"  
Right then up was still down and 
there wasn't any glue on my shoes

(Author's note: this is a compilation of happenings I have experienced in my life, except for the glue on my feet. That was my gluing agent for the rest of my story.
 - The police ride happened in Egypt, I was picked up while walking a shipyard road.
 - The walking problem happened in a dream I had Sunday night. It stopped before a logical end.
 - Twice I've had the quivering and  tingling feet, once when a rude bully with road rage got into my face and the other when I tripped and fell in a store.)
_ _ _ _

- Photos and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights Reserved (top picture is of the roadside on our return from the Magellan Strait Park ((sic)) in Chile, the bottom is of KP and Mrs. Jim making slime from their new recipe)
- I am linked with Sanaa Rizvi in the Imaginary Garden at

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