Table Games - a Poem for Sunday Muse

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We are flying our home flag today for her

U.S. America is flying our flags half mast in tribute to Queen Elizabeth III 

  

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A Lagniappe #1:  Our friends from Towcester, Northamptonshire, England,

[our flag]

 invited us to watch with them for the passing of Queen Elizabeth on her way to open Parliament.  "We didn't see the little mouse but we did see the Queen.  I tell people that she waved to me.  She was in her carriage on her way to address Parliament on their opening day.   Just our luck, I had brought my camera but wouldn't you know on this particular day I left the battery at the flat in its charger. 

"So this picture I did not take but rather it is a British press release photo which I photographed with my camera. . . " (Read more and see more of our London of Spring 2012 holiday here.) 

Note:  We also saw her, coming out in her Land Rover from the Balmoral Castle, we were going in and so we pulled to the side while she was passing us.   Mrs. Jim and I liked her a lot, as many times as we have been to the U.K., she seemed to us as our Queen also.  May she RIP.

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     Playing Chess 

He played in the light 

but near the shadow 

Mentor staying close 

Standing close watching, 

or in player's mind 

He had taught him well   

Mentor city champ, 

his student was good 

Could beat his mentor, 

one of three games 

Sophomore in college 

A senior in chess 

Skipping class for chess 

Studied not, dropped out 

Note:  That student was me, the author here.  Finally after eleven years I went back to college, night school.  Eleven more years in 1975 I graduated with three degrees.  I haven't played even ten games of chess since my dropout. I do plan to play again when I go into assisted living.  I've been retired 21 years now. 

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 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022 , All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Carrie for the Photo Prompt, at the Sunday Muse #227,  

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2022/09/sunday-muse-227.html?m=1  

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The Cat - a Prose Poem for Friday Writings

    Toxic Love*

Click photo for a larger view

I brought my cat home; he loved me at sight.  I was carrying a piece of fried chicken and gave him a hunk.  He ate.  He crawled into my lap, purring like he was my loving boy slave.   

That was nice but not, he wanted to sleep with me that very first night.  I put his bed on the floor and told him that was his bed.  

Wasn't long, the first program of "Murder She Wrote" was still playing when he jumped in bed with me.  I couldn't make him leave without making a big fuss.

Oops, we can't be doing this, tomorrow will be different.  

Next I knew he had wiggled his way under the sheet to be closer to me.  Purring a bit, he soon went to sleep.  That was good.  "Good dreams," I thought. 

About two o'clock, I felt an itch, a BIG ITCH.  I scratched it a little, it felt wet.  Blood was coming from my leg.  There was a scratch, "I must cut my fingernails closer".  After some suave and a band aide I went back to sleep.  

An hour later I scream.  The Cat was biting my nose.  Auch.  My nose was bleeding, and hurt, not just an itch.  I whacked The Cat and he went running.  I went after him but couldn't find, he was hiding someplace in the house. 

After that night, I closed my bedroom door, his bed was in the living room by the couch.  One night he woke me up, biting really hard again.  I chased him away and doctored my bod.  I am sure he had been hiding under the bed.

  

He's bolder now, thinks he should rule.  When I pass, he paws my leg.  And when I sit, he crawls onto my lap and purrs.  Some days though, he'll scratch or bite, bites me all over, he likes open skin.

I can't give him away; I love him too much.  I'd like for him to behave and even be back with me at night but seems he is a slow learner about how to be a welcome roommate. 

Now, nobody wants him.  I'm stuck. 

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 - Magaly has invited us to write (either a poem or a piece of prose) about "Toxic Love". [I wrote 359 Words, limit was 360.  I call it prose.]

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved. 

 - The cat in the picture belongs to my daughter.  He does sleep with her and he will bite her while she is sleeping.  But the cat here is a metaphor (??) of sorts, I didn't write about my daughter.  I want the poem to stand alone, think cat or guy, it matters to me not.  Just enjoy.

 - I am linked with Magaly at The Friday Writings #43, at 

  https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/search/label/poetry%20prompts

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*Note: 

"In a toxic relationship, you might consistently feel drained or unhappy after spending time with your partner, according to relationship therapist Jor-El Caraballo, which can suggest that some things need to change.

"Maybe the relationship no longer feels at all enjoyable, though you still love your partner. For some reason, you always seem to rub each other the wrong way or can’t seem to stop arguing over minor issues. You might even dread the thought of seeing them, instead of looking forward to it as you did in the past.. ."  There's more, read here what the signs are for this strange critter (really not an oxymoron even if it does sound like one). 

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Our Days - a Poem with an Aphorism - Meet the Bar, dVerse

 

    Click on picture for larger sized viewing

  The Clock Ticks 

I'm facing the wall 

No turning around 

When I last saw him 

He was eight feet tall 

Bang. His gun went off 

I fell to the floor 

Down with a big thud 

My day is over 

When I awakened 

There's no blood no pain 

Why wasn't I dead 

Best wake and repent 

The clock is ticking 

and our days aren't long 

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 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Björn Rudberg (brudberg) in dVerse for Meet the Bar with Aphorisms, at  

https://dversepoets.com/2022/09/08/meet-the-bar-with-aphorisms/  

 - Is there a growing old?  The final two lines make my aphorism. 

 - Click Here to visit the others writing Aphorisms this week

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