Sunday Muse -- My Love

     Unlike the Cats 

Kitten*, you've nine lives seven yet to spare 

I don't count my lives instead I count loves 

So far I've had three sweet and romantic 

For a moment, Kitten, I'll tell you those 

"Burning Love" Art by Diggie Vitt

My first love we "set the woods on fire" *

Our burning flames "couldn't get much higher" *

Fires can't burn forever even love's 

And when those burning  flames went out we crashed 

By Ralf Czekalla & Art 

Came a love flooded with admiration 

She loved my uniform called me flyer 

Flew up the hills down into the valleys 

Love dripping from the sky falling on us 

Degreed and holding good jobs met at work 

Cubicles abutting played footsie 'neath 

Peers called us "love birds with spouses at home" 

That world came crashing down sunk in the mire 

"Waiting for Better Days" by Matthias-Haker 

Kitten*, I know better days soon will come 

I like you a lot might they be with you 

* Notes: (1) "Light my Fire" by the Doors, (click Listen/Lyrics also ?)

             (2)  "Kitten" use here is as a term of affection

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 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 

 - Prompt Photos courtesy of Carrie at The Sunday Muse #198,  

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2022/02/sunday-muse-198.html?m=1 

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Sunday Muse Poem -- Don't Ask

Image Source 

Gathered Here 

We are gathered here waiting 

Waiting our ship to come in 

Board by numbers given us 

Sevens or twos some families 

When our ship comes, mask and board 

I have been chosen, our King 

King Elected, Tiger king 

Lion king not selected 

Where we'll sail, that we don't know 

Trust in Provence we are told 

Or be like doubting Lion 

And left behind, do not sail  

Drink up drink up while we can 

Our next meal is on the ship 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo prompt, I'm linked with Carrie Van Horn at Sunday Muse # 144, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/01/sunday-muse-144.html?m=1#comment-form

Day 19 ~~ NaPoWriMo ~~ an A,B,C,D,E ... Form Flash Poem

Letting go now 

Always on the go 

But slowed a bit somewhat 

Caring not for much anymore 

Death should not be an option 
 

Earth no longer wanted me 

Flirting with pills and vodka 

Guns not in the picture 

Have no time for remorse 
 

Ice too solid no breaking through 

Justice is no more 

Killing myself goodbye unkind world 

_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights Reserved 

 - I'm linked with   Kerry O'Connor  in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/04/micro-poetry-i-am-my-own-muse.html

 - And also linked with NaPoWriMo http://www.napowrimo.net/day-nineteen-4/

 - This is a Flash Poem with exactly 55 Words sans the title per 's request 

 - It is also an A,B,C,D,E ... Form Poem with the first line starting with the letter "A" and has each following line with its respective alphabet letter per our NaPoWriMo host suggestion. 

 - You might notice that I am a bit down this morning but not as much so as the "Poet" writing was.

A Dog followed by a mangy three

Three poems following a dog, 
up and down hills traversing city streets
And if they can't keep the pace 
there will come a kick in the rear 
by giant goose to speed them up

So here are the actors for you
Each a poem in itself
Written on their wheely chests

This poem is a taxicab gaily flying colors 
Color her red for the city snobs
Or yellow for the old and feeble
Green for the purists 
who won't waste a dime, a tree, 
or even a rabbit's foot and some who 
just plain don't like the walk

This poem is a minibus 
hobnobbing for fares of the day
Every morning comes the preacher's wife
riding while the pastor runs
She'll say a prayer for you or cuss you out
which ever her spirit calls
Sitting beside her are six school teachers
who'll argue you blind while you 
sharpen your pencil and think 
The wrestling team is skipping school 
so meet them at the park  

This poem is a cargo truck trying 
to show some pizzazz while at work
The truck chugs along driven by a 
nincompoop who can't count to ten 
Unless its money for then he'll pinch every 
penny making sure you've paid him right 
Today it's sows to market and tomorrow 
a wedding party who's renewing their vows 
Turns out the sows do vows and ladies do market 
They all ride home together, oh what a smell 

The taxicab and the minibus and the cargo truck too
They all get speeding tickets and arrested 
for overload -- the nincompoop pays 
out of his burning pockets 
Dah 
The pastor's wife cries while 
the wedding party pours champagne 
even then the taxicab digs out 
the purple flags 

Purists cry and pet the dog 
in the park 

   [click on the picture for large size viewing]
    _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with Sherry Blue Sky in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/02/wordy-thursday-with-wild-woman-hannahs.html?m=1 
 - Go there to read about Hannah's "Boomerang Metaphor Form."  I'm sorry but my metaphors are weak, perhaps you can find a meaning in some.
 - My previous attempt to use this form was posted here, https://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2014/07/blog-post_19.html?m=1

This poem is ...

This Poem is an Elephant, a Crawfish,  and a Golfing Man (a Golfer Putting)
~
This poem is a little reddened crawfish
This poem is a strong elephant
This poem is an old man puttering around

This poem has been crying
it wishes it had more love and affection than it gets
This poem is a doll, a toy waiting to be loved
it will sing and sing as long as her batteries are strong
This poem is a young miss, married for two years
but now she is a crawfish red from crying

This poem is big and strong
it is capable of showing much love and affection
This poem is also a doll, a toy who really is very handsome
It will sing with crocodile tears along with anyone who cries
This poem is a young fellow, married for two years
but who acts like an old lumbering elephant after the honeymoon ends

This poem is love, small and slowed
it is dawdling in slow motion when it should be hurrying
This poem is a figurine, a miniature statue of a golfer, putting
It is slow and steady. It likes to play its game more than to love
This poem is love, love that is puttering around now
And after two years that love is sputtering, very seldom showed.

This poem is a young lass, married two years, a puckered crawfish all red from crying
This poem is a young man, whose love life has gone stale, a lumbering elephant
This poem is love, sputtering love that seldom shows, old man love puttering around
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Picture and Poem Copyright 2014, © Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Today I am linked (link) with Hannah at the Real Toads, Sunday's Mini Challenge
Monday Update:  I am also linking (link) with Kerry's Real Toads, Open Mondays posting

Hannah wants us to write in a form she has devised and called it the Boomeranged Metaphor poem. The first set of three lines go out in " Create three, “This poem is a ____,” statements" and are returned at the end with some edification and amplification permitted and perhaps encouraged.
Additionally, upon the return, a metaphor has been developed between each line the first set of three and the final three.  You can learn more from the link above to Hannah's directions.