Figment gone wild -- for dVerse Quadrille #203

   Can't Win All

Tell you little figment bout

my imagination wild 

Was a little boy again 

getting the cows to come in 

Birdie, workhorse disliked me

concerned for the cows' freedom 

Walked over and kicked me good 

in the back I was bedridden 

I limp still today

   _ _ _ 

 - I am linked with Lillian hosting at dVerse Quadrille #203, (must be exactly 44 word poem) and this one contain the word "figment" 

  https://dversepoets.com/2024/06/10/what-do-mark-twain-and-a-purple-dragon-have-in-common/  

 - Click here to read the others posting for this week's Quadrilles

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kids and cats talk - a Write for NaPoWriMo 2024 Day 27

Louis Wain, The Naughty Puss (1898)

  High School Cats and Kids; 

    what and where do they learn 

juicy farts, high school kids delight 

talking of them can fill the air 

bane of mothers who wash their pants 

"accident" when explain to moms 

moms take it in mother's duty 

clear the air precious high school talk 

sex and 'lgbtq' hushed 

not supposed to know of these things 

seems high school is meant for learning 

most time these are learned from 'big' kids 

moms and dad will know these go on 

learning, kids will pass stuff down 

  - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo by Louis Wain, 1898 

 - I am linked with NaNoWriMo 2024 Day 27 

    https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-seven-10/

where we are asked to post an "American Sonnet".  Mine is one, sort of, has no rhyme.  But it is a Trometer (eight syllables each line) one.

..  

a "Tall Tail"? -- a poem for NaPoWriMo 2024 Day Twelve

 

      Jimmie Boy 

 

Jimmie Boy was born an orphan 

In the nursery for newborns 

He was saying Mama, Dadad 

As if he knew was supposed to 

Supposed to have like others 

Others had mothers to feed them 

Daddies to teach the alphabet 

Someone had told him right after 

Right after he was born without  

They'd been killed in car accident 

But 'twas no accident.  Careless 

The other guy had been drinking 

 

The nurse had told him right away 

Jimmie Boy was a fast learner 

Luck, fostered by geniuses 

In school, first grade when he was two 

That didn't work, he knew it all 

All they could teach so had home school 

Graduated when he was ten 

What could, no would, his future hold 

 _ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with NaPoWriMo 2024 Day Twelve, here

    https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twelve-12/ 

    where were presented with an optional prompt idea of writing a "Tall tale".   

    If my poem is tall enough, then I satisfied the prompt?  

.. 

After Rains -- a Poem for Friday Writings and dVerse Poetics

   

  Rainy Day Fun 

It had rained that day, 

or was it from the melting snow 

Puddles and small streams 

I'm with my bottle and my stick 

Salad dressing's gone 

Done its duty and discarded 

Retrieved, fuel tanks full 

Passengers and crew coming here 

I'm the ship's captain 

Counting is done all are onboard 

The ropes are untied 

We are now leaving the harbor 

Guiding with my stick 

and coming around your corner 

Wave to me please 

The lad in navy suit age eight  

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 

 - I'm linked with Grace at dVerse Poetics,   

 https://dversepoets.com/2023/08/22/poetics-bottled-poetry/ 

 - Grace has asked us, "use the word "bottle" and its contents in your poem. What is brewing inside the bottle?"

 - You can read other's poems for Grace's dVerse prompt by clicking here 

 - I am also linked with Magaly at Friday Writings #91 who has invited us to find inspiration in the phrase “muscle memory” for her prompting.  Writing for it is optional, due to lack of time I opted to bring this poem to Friday Writings.  I wasn't up on "muscle memory" so I looked it up and learned. 

 - You can read Magaly's discourse of the prompt and links to others posting by clicking here 

 - As a lad growing up on my Dad's farm playing bottle boat and my tree branch stick this was one of my favorite play times when the little streams were flowing. 

.. 

Kisses, eggs, and kids ~~ a Poem for dVerse Quadrille Twelfth's Anniversary

An Even Dozen  

That's an art of sorts 

Way too many most 

Not enough a few 

It all depends on 

commodity rife 

A dozen kisses 

That's way overmuch 

Twelve eggs is just right 

Kids, don't even think 

I've five really fine 

Dozens are handy 

Kisses couple's fine 

_ _ _ 

 

 - Photos and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehove 2016 and 2023, respectively, All Rights Reserved  

 - Photos and ensuing text are from my earlier post, 

    https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2016/03/moms-machine-warm-heart-wednesday-no-016.html

 - I'm linked with  msjadeli in Quadrille at Happy dVerse Twelfth Anniversay, 

    https://dversepoets.com/2023/07/10/happy-dverse-twelfth-anniversary/ 

 - Here a Quadrille poem has exactly 44 words not counting the title, tonight it should use the word Twelve. 

 - Clicking here will take you to the site containin links to other writer's efforts with their Quadrille writings.

 _ _ _ 

TMI Stuff?

Of growing up on the farm, the chicken end was pretty much Mom's, the feeding and growing and the care of the eggs that the hens would lay.  Saturday night found her cleaning the eggs that were produced for the week.  Often I would 'help' her as it was a good time to have Mom just for myself. 

She didn't have to grade them, like Grade AA Large, but this scale would take care of the sizing if she were to sell to an individual or a retailer.  Most times we took the eggs to a produce house. 

Chart is from Southern States Cooperative; How to grade and size eggs.

_ _ _ 

Abandoned House -- a poem for The Sunday Muse

  

        Summer Escapes 

My hangout when I felt abused 

T'would be the old abandoned house 

The big Texas Ranch House next door 

Next door was about a mile away 

Across the water, wooded creek 

There forget about my feelings 

Hurt and not loved by my parents 

Sulking mood pre-teens often have 

Fly out the window drop to death 

Take my big dog and hike and sulk 

Tell my mom, dad always away 

"I'm going down to the creek to play" 

Stopped there, where Shep and I would play 

Thinking more, poor me, sulking still 

Go over the knoll to the house? 

There we'd stay until almost late 

Forgetting the morning conflict 

One I'd never win but I'd try  

Look for treasures left, every room 

Sunroom memories eating there 

All us kids would be herded in  

Played while our parents ate and drank 

Memories of the good times back then 

Had dreams I'm not remembering now 

Forgot about being saddened 

My own castle safe and secure 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo from Carrie's collection from which to choose and write my thoughts at The Sunday Muse #220, 

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2022/07/sunday-muse-220.html

 - I am thinking about an abandoned house I would visit pre-teen, mostly happy, once in a while hurting.  Sometimes besides the dog I would take my little sister.  I still have an old key that I took from a nail on a wall.  That house has since been purchased along with a small acreage and folks are living there again.

..

 

Flower Fun - a Sunday Muse Poem

 

   Blow to the Wind 

Dandelions and Violets 

My favorites since I was born 

Violets take to my mother 

Dandelions when choice was thin 

Either one my mother would beam 

Mothers are made for young ones' glee 

Violets have seasons when to bloom 

And dandelions go to seed 

Those seeds kids can blow to the wind 

Oft times the mothers will join in 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo I chose from Carrie's selections of five for our inspiration at The Sunday Muse #219, 

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2022/07/sunday-muse-219.html?sc=1657986511229&m=1#c1601031328043097348 

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Young artists and poets -- NaPoWriMo 2022 Day Nineteen ( for dVerse Quadrille)

     Broken Chalk 

Put the broken chalk in the box 

Save it for the children poets 

Pretty driveway pictures they'll make 

Messages to passerbys and 

In secret code some to their friends 

Best of all will be their poems 

Friends and strangers alike will read 

Eoohs and aawes children love to hear 

Broken chalk 

  _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with NaPoWriMo 2022 Day Nineteen, 

https://www.napowrimo.net/day-nineteen-7/ 

 - There we are to start our poem with a command, my first line is my command. 

 - I am also linked with De Jackson at dVerse for Quadrille #150, 

https://dversepoets.com/2022/04/18/quadrille-150-chalk-it-up-to-poetry/ 

 - She has us writing a Flash Poem with a body of exactly 44 words and using the word, "Chalk".   Also mine is using 59 syllables, 7 x 8 and 1 x 3.

.. 

B a t m a n -- NaPoWriMo 2022

     For Many Years 

B a t m a n's  been living in the comics 

for many years he's been hiding there 

Hiding from the parents so well 

but now I've been told he's getting old 

The kids have no problems finding him 

he shows every day to those who love 

Cares not love or like him in degrees 

some have seen him not and he doesn't care 

For his true fans he aims all to please 

covets every "Like" that he can get 

They're sorry for him, he's getting old 

stumbles, falls, spits his cud, worse than that 

Every comic wants their big heydays 

Kids know he's been had, now finding tech 

  _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with NaPoWriMo 2022 Day Five at  https://www.napowrimo.net/day-five-9/ 

 - Our leader's prompt for Day Five has a "challenge" for us "to write a poem about a mythical person or creature doing something unusual – or at least something that seems unusual in relation to that person/creature." 

 - B a t m a n's  BIRTHDAY was March 30 born in 1939 which makes him to be 81 years old.  

..

Friday Writings - Pain is . . .

 Edith 

 

Edith was a girl we all liked 

She has loved chocolate all her life 

A girl who didn't hesitate 

Who always your last bite she ate 

Edith was a girl all were proud 

Mom Dad most,  Grandparents count 

She didn't cuss or kiss the boys 

And helped the little kids play toys 

That was Edith we remember 

To college she went, goodbye her 

Pleasant and eager the school's gain 

Sadly our loss has been our pain 

 - - - 

Pains in your life can come and go and some are here to stay.  They seem to vary in intensity with age, cause and treatment. 

Let me tell you of one of the pains in my life.  After your read you may have guessed more but I think not. 

     An Acrostic:  

PAIN IN THE BUTT 

P ain in the butt 

A lways it hurts 

I s hard to soothe 

N ever pleasant 

I 'm embarrassed 

N o way I tell 

T elling's stupid 

H ere's to silence 

E ver a day 

B ackside is red 

U nder side too 

T elltale bruises 

T hat kick did leave 

 - - - 

When I was around twelve years old a work horse of Dad's kicked me in the back.  Doctor L. made a house call and had me lay on my stomach for a week.  It was terrible pain. 

 - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - Suggested prompt by Magaly of the Friday Writings team, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/search/label/Friday%20Writings?m=1 

 - Magaly would like us to write poetry or prose that explores pain. 

. 

Sunday Muse - The Cat

 

        The Kitten Dreams

(Dad) Don't worry dear, your kitty is dreaming 

(Child)  What's he dreaming of? 

He's dreaming of a song his mommy taught him 

Oh, that's nice, do I know that song?

No I don't think so, it's not a children's song.  My daddy taught it to me when I was a teen  

Well surely it has a name, children might know that? 

Not from your parents will you learn that 

Well, I can't make him wake up, please call me when he wakes up

That's a deal, let's let him sleep here on the couch.  I think he will dream some more and sleep better there  

Yes, this much better, I'll go play now, remember to call me when he wakes up

Goodbye

(An Aside) "Now I've got that song on my mind, perhaps becoming an ear worm"

(Dad goes away, singing softly) 

"There stands the glass, it's my first drink today . . ."

(Fades away.  Curtain closes)

 _ _ _ 

 - Prose Piece Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo from Carrie Van Horn and/or Shay a.k.a. Fireblossom at The Sunday Muse # 174, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/08/the-sunday-muse-174.html?m=1 

 - Song, "There stands the Glass" by Web Pierce 

2:29

There stands the Glass Webb Pierce with Lyrics.

YouTube · Solid gold oldies (Googled link above)

Apr 4, 2017

 - There Stands the Glass -- Lyrics

There stands the glass that will ease all my pain
That will settle my brain, it's my first one today
There stands the glass that will hide all my fears
That will drown all my tears, brother, I'm on my way

I'm wondering where you are tonight
And I'm wondering if you are all right
I wonder if you think of me in my misery

There stands the glass, fill it up to the brim
Until my troubles grow dim, it's my first one today

I'm wondering where you are tonight
And I'm wondering if you are all right
I wonder if you think of me in my misery

There stands the glass, fill her up to the brim
Until my troubles grow dim, it's my first one today

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Mary Jean Shurtz / Russ Hull / A. Greisham

There Stands the Glass lyrics © Unichappell Music Inc., Jamie Music Publishing Co

.

Sunday Muse - Meditations

 

   Walking Home 

My sales went well today 

I can hardly wait to hear 

Mama's good words to say 

They warm my heart please my ears 

Even Mr. Fiesty sold, 

My yellow canary friend 

Woke us up on mornings cold 

Sad this way it has to end 

Family will eat today 

Mama takes from the money 

Markets, venders, food she pays 

Laugh and eat still funny dressed 

Someday when money's mine 

I'll buy Mr. Fiesty back 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo prompt from Carrie at The Sunday Muse #172, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/08/the-sunday-muse-172.html?m=1 

.

Weekly Scribblings -- A Boyhood Place

 The Tree 

 

The tree stood proudly out behind the house 

Ropes hung from the bows, had tires attached 

Homemade swings were made by the larger boys 

Later in life my tree house, way up high 

If you had the password you could come up 

Up and read or tell stories with the kids 

Passing time and abandonment ruins 

Ruins all the pleasures of childhood toys 

Tree houses and swings left to rot decay 

They're not safe to swing or to climb up high 

And then when everyone has moved to town 

Or passed away the country place is sold 

The new owner cares not and doesn't know 

childhood play memories he doesn't have 

The now old tree is bulldozed to his pile 

And on a windless day it's all set fire 

Note:  This is the house I was born in and lived in until I left for college.  It had two bedrooms upstairs and a kitchen and a living room down.  My parents and my little sister slept in the bedrooms, I slept in a screened in front porch, it had three enclosed porches. None of the porches were heated and they got pretty cold in the winters. There was a tree my sister and I played in, I did make a tree house when I was old enough to be able. 

After my dad and mom had died we sold the house to a fellow who had other farms too.  Our Nebraska farm was small, it only had 120 acres, and the man bought it for his son.  The son and his wife lived in town, they bulldozed the old house, late 1800's vintage, and most of the trees.  The barns were kept.

_ _ _ 

 - Poem and Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021 and 2007, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Rommy for my response to her prompt about trees at Weekly Scribbles #63, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/03/weekly-scribblings-63-trees.html 

Sunday Muse Poem -- Kids at Play

Photography by Romain Thiery 

(Abandoned in an old forgotten villa in France) 

Kids' Play House

An abandoned house across the road 

It was up a ways the kids would go 

A day of play, afternoon at least 

Old, very old, elegant for feast 

They'd packed a lunch share at the table 

Bigger kids' eats, best they were able 

Folks here must have left in a hurry 

Beds tables chairs for mice to scurry 

Kids stood in line to play the Old Maid

That's what they called the musical spade

Ace of Maids the machine left behind 

Keys were sticking, but best they could find 

No sounds this old piano would make 

But music from this crew they would fake 

Carefully when they left they locked the place  

New key for the old lock they had made 

Explore some more this small urchin clan 

Come again another day their plan 

 _ _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights reserved 

 - Photo by Romain Thiery and copied from Carrie's directions linked below

 - I am linked with Carrie Van Horne at the Sunday Muse #150, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/03/sunday-muse-150.html?m=1

Poem for Mothers

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!

Image Source 

Motherly Love

Mama I love you 

So very much I love 

I know you love me 

Feed me kiss me caress 

Forever I'll love 

And when I'm bigger 

I'll love you even more 

You'll protect me always 

Teach me to be safe 

Little boys are fair game 

Fathers jealous men 

I'll have to run and hide 

And when older still 

I'll remeber that love 

Then to my bride 

Love her as you taught me 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Carrie Van Horn at Sunday Muse,  http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/05/sunday-muse-107.html?m=1 

 - Note:  I generally try to make my writing to be independent to stand alone from the accomping photo.  This said I do know that tigers have harems, I'm sure they love each as they learned from their mother.

A Poem for Midweek Motif

The Birds and ... 

The birds and the bees

I never was told

My father started

but then he said, son

you've watched cows and pigs  

The birds and the bees

I never quite knew

The birds fly high and

little bees fly low

Busy buzzing bees 

sweet smelling flower 

blooms make honey sweet

Pretty birds are nice
find worms for the nest
and make stinky poo

 

And if size matters

then it's large and small

Feathers or fuzzy  

There had to be more

The Birds and the Bees

 "S" word was the clue 
for school boys and girls
 

 Wikipedia 
was interesting
I tried not much help

 

 (Thomas Carew first user) 

 _ _ _

 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with Sumana Roy at Poets United, Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Honey / Bee, http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2019/09/poets-united-midweek-motif-honey-bee.html?m=1