Sunday Muse --- Decisions

Alone 

I am alone 

It's where I want to be 

Alone in the world 

A world where 

I've not found 

A place for me 

I am dressed for party  

But there's not 

A party for me 

People are there 

People I don't want to see 

I want to be 

Alone tonight 

I was a boy 

A fair boy 

A boy who wanted 

He wanted to be a girl 

So now he's trying 

To see how it goes 

Shoulders bare 

Nails painted red 

Hair coarse and 

fairly straight 

Feathered Easter hat 

Borrowed for the night 

Shoes,  flats that don't fit 

Party was for me not 

Tomorrow night 

A hippie girl I'll try 

Hair is long enough 

Jeans with holes or

Cutoffs strings and holes 

Sleeveless shirt to wear 

Painted toenails 

Match my fingers 

Then I won't be alone 

I'll find my old crowd 

The part that stays 

They're sitting on 

Loading docks for 

trucks during the day 

They'll take me in 

Won't care if 

I be boy or girl 

I hope 

Those Hippie Days

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 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - I  am linked for top picture with Carrie Van Horn at Sunday Muse #153,  http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/03/sunday-muse-153.html?m=1

 - Bottom picture I used before, "Those Hippie Days", https://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2019/05/mini-challeng-poem.html?m=1

Weekly Scribblings -- The Dance

Why The Dance for Me

Why was I here, "dancing the night away?" 

Had I delusions dancer King or Queen 

Or did I enjoy it as indoor sport 

In college I loved my dancing classes 

Met classmates I would have never before 

I learned the old and the newest there be 

From the Waltz through Cha Cha to the Breakdance 

But not a soul I met in those lessons 

Have I seen in years 

After that I would try  local dances 

Going there people to meet mostly girls 

Out of town to the west that was the best 

Going south fine as well more elegant 

My roommate had made friends with a lady 

Lived across the hall--gladly bought us booze 

Drive down to Kansas legal age eighteen 

But not a soul I met at those dances 

Have I seen in years

Now when we're on à cruise lessons we'll take 

Take them before the dances to review 

Or at weddings where  we take the dance floor 

Misses brushes me up on the two step 

With her and the bride I hope I will dance 

And maybe then a few more if they ask 

But not a soul I met at the wedding  

Have I seen in years 

 .. . [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlTKhPkZSJo]

_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 -  Photo taken by me  on our ship while cruising in 2013 someplace in the Black Sea.  The dancers had boarded while we were stopped a couple of days in Istanbul. http://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2013/10/a-random-five-post-020-venice-to-athens.html

 - YouTube previously used on my "Party Girl" poem 2016 post, https://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2016/03/party-girl-challenge-poem-for-flash-55.html?m=1

 - I am linked to Weekly Scribblings #62 for Magaly Guerrero's prompt word, "Dance", at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/03/weekly-scribblings-62-shut-up-and-dance.html?m=1

 

Sunday Muse -- Help Me

 Another Chance 

I was leaving from the courthouse that sunshiny day, when I heard a faint voice.   It was saying to me, seemingly from someone on the inside, "Mister, could you spare me a dollar?"  

I looked around and from a small window, through rusty bars, and I saw a young man with a scurvy beard and unkempt mustache.  As I walked towards the window I was reminded of another young man on the outer skirts of the law.  

He was a hitchhiker thumbing for a ride on the Iowa Interstate.   When he got in the car he thanked me profusely and told me of  the patrol car that had just passed going the other way.  He feared the patrol would turn back where it had a place and haul him in for unlawful thumbing on the freeway. 

Well, this young man today was already in the hoosegow  for I knew not what.  So as I began to peel out a buck he began to tell his story.  Seems he wasn't in trouble at all. 

He too was hitchhiking to get back east to visit his mom one last time.  He was sleeping in jails across the country and they'd feed him two meals, evening feast and morning breakfast before he left.

I took one more look at this fellow,  he seemed a bit familiar to me.  Then like a flash we both smiled and hugged through the bars.  It had been years since that day in Iowa.  World travelers of different breeds meet again. 

(A bit of truth, I did save a cross country hitchhiker from being arrested in Iowa back in 1971 by giving him a ride.  Going around the world, he also ate and spent his nights in small town jails who regularly offer free room and board for a night.  Lots more friendly and wholesome than bedding down hungry under a bridge.)

 _ _ _ 

  - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Fireblossom at the Sunday Muse #152 for the photo inspiration, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/03/sunday-muse-152.html?m=1