Sad - a Poem for Friday Writings and dVerse Quadrille

                     "Adi is retiring from Pet Partners"

.

Adi and I were best buddies

Adi's working life link

Lot's about Adi link 

[posted 2016, link]

  Deepest Sleep

Awoke this morning

Feeling very sad

My dog died last night

Vet came to pronounce

There is no help for her

She must be put to sleep

My face on her neck

Slowly she went to sleep

Oh that I could join her darkness 

  _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright 2024, Photo Copyright 2016, Jimmiehov 2024 and 2016, All Rights Reserved 

 Reserved  

 - I am linked with Rosemary at dVerse Friday Writings#128  at   https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/ 

 - I am also linked with Punam at dVerse Quadrille #202, (must be exactly 44 word poem) 

  https://dversepoets.com/2024/05/27/quadrille-202-hello-darkness/  

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

..

Unspeakable-- a Poem for NaPoWriMo 2024 Day 16

    Getting Worse 

His rash was unspeakable 

In places we never want 

Bad chafe initiated 

His underwear went unworn 

He didn't see his doctor, 

a woman, he was bashful 

Oh dear, it was getting worse, 

every day.  Now it hurts 

Medicine he had was old 

And the rats in the barn 

 had longer tails 

 _ _ _ 

 - No Photo, Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with NaPoWriMo 2024 Day Sixteen 

   https://www.napowrimo.net/day-sixteen-11/ 

 - I think I am on prompt today; you can be a judge.  ". . . here’s today’s (optional) prompt, taken from our 2016 archives. Today, we challenge you to write a poem in which you closely describe an object or place, and then end with a much more abstract line that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do with that object or place, but which, of course, really does. The “surprise” ending to this James Wright poem is a good illustration of the effect we’re hoping you’ll achieve. An abstract, philosophical kind of statement closing out a poem that is otherwise intensely focused on physical, sensory details."

..

A Tribute -- a Poem for Friday Writings

Photo was AI generated by Bing's "AI Photo Generator" URL 
[Published and Copyright here by Jimmiehove 2024] 
[click on picture to enlarge]

      Tribute to a Good Friend 

Sadie was a good friend of mine 

So was her husband, better friend 

They were parents three children 

Married young, she grew tired of him 

Next single, her new friends were wild 

Still she was my friend, friends with both 

Sadie moved to Austin, afar 

I lost touch, ex kept me posted 

Her newfound friends on the wild side 

Sadie began drinking with them 

Eating way too much with her drink 

She had a heart attack and died 

A different kind of funeral 

The gang met at swimming hole 

There they raised their beer cans to her 

Ashes to the pond, cans followed 

Still think lots of her and her ex 

A loss of a friend who went wrong 

 _ _ _ 

 - Tribute Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Rommy at Friday Writings #119 here, 

  https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 

 - Rommy has asked us to 'find inspiration “In memoriam”: write about a person, place, or thing that is gone.'  Mine is true, the lady's name here I have changed to honor the deceased but not identified by name.  Some of my readers may have known her also. 

.. 

Situation Intolerable - a Poem for dverse Poetics

René Magritte, Homesickness (1940), oil on canvas

  

        What I see in the photo 

Home seems different, seems so very warm 

Back to where I left off this very bridge 

Had no wings back then plunged into the cold 

Team with wings dressed in white that pulled me out 

I was issued suit like that, white with wings 

Notices on my back saying, "stay pending" 

Pending interview with the famous saint 

Backlog was ahead of me but I could wait 

I had persisted going back, visit 

Visit with kin left behind and explain 

Tell of my ills, worries, evil thoughts why 

I could bear no more had to make the jump 

Now thinking why and what, why I would leave 

Leave a mess behind that I couldn't cope 

So I was released, on leave of absence 

Gave me the lion to ride him back home 

Didn't tell me before but when we left 

Out the golden door my suit turned to black 

Wings I'd never used they said take with me 

But don't to use those wings as they're evil now  

And we came but the kin understood not 

Why I'd leave like that, messes left for them 

Here we stand on that bridge ready to leave 

Wanting to test these wings, I'd like to fly 

Lion senses bad, he needs to mount up 

With one giant leap and we could be gone 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Melissa Lemay at dVerse Poetics, 

    https://dversepoets.com/2024/03/19/everything-we-see/ 

 - Click here to read what others have written, go to the link just above to read about the artist, René Magritte, and to read our instructions from Melissa, our host tonight 

.. 

comes Freedom? -- a poem for Friday Writings

Photo from "C o r p u n . c o m"

   Freedom the Hard Way

 

Freedom, freedom, freedom 

Paddle my arse, and kick my tail 

'Through discipline comes freedom'  

Boot in the butt, I won't wail   

Freedom, freedom, freedom   

Paddle my arse, and pinch my cheeks 

Cry if I don't gain freedom   

And won't be freed for long weeks

Freedom, freedom, freedom  

Say bad things and box on the ear 

Ears will ring, my dog will bark 

You'll wonder why I can't hear 

Freedom, freedom, freedom 

Louder yelling, belt to the rear

Black and blue, my dog might bite 

Called the cops, the law is near  

Freedom, discipline they don't mold 

Though I am tough, 'twas getting old 

_ _ _                     

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Rommy for hosting for Magaly and the prompt, second line,  "Through discipline comes freedom" for Friday Writings #115 at     https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 

 - Magaly previously had decided on a prompt wanted us to be invited to write poetry or prose inspired by the following quote: “Through discipline comes freedom.”

..

Kurt Cobain - a Poem for dVerse Poetics

Kurt Cobain with Nirvana in 1992 
Photo from Wikipedia (URL)

 

Photo: Koh Hesebe / Shinko Music 

 / Getty Images

  

  Salam's Lot; new tenants coming 

My little darling, mother of my child 

Oh that I would join you in new abode 

Living you were sweet, we had ups and downs 

You were atop the world, I mostly down 

But we cried and cursed together, huddled 

Huddled where the witches were not welcome 

They corpses, come back to haunt me and her 

And now you've gone, of your own accord 

Will you be like they, those of long long past 

Oh that I would join you, I will, I will 

You now, "a down payment on another 

One at Salems's lot"*, pretty witch of late 

*Stephen Kings novel, 'Salem's Lot has to do with my own disillusionment and consequent fear for the future. In a way, it is more closely related to Invasion of the Body Snatchers than it is to Dracula. The fear behind 'Salem's Lot seems to be that the Government has invaded (Quote of King, Wikipedia) everybody.^[9](Quote of King, Wikipedia [URL])

 - Note:  Cobain died of suicide at age 27

_ _ _

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photos are cited below the picture

 - I am linked with Melissa Lemay at dVerse Poetics at 

    https://dversepoets.com/2024/02/20/happy-birthday-kurt%f0%9f%8e%89/ 

     where we were asked to use a line or more from one of Kurt Cobain's songs.  Mine is in quotes as a part of the last two lines.  

 - Click here to read writings from other writers.

..

I Have This fear -- a poem now for Friday Writings

This photo and poem in 2016, February 8, was formerly posted by me, at 

 http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/09/out-of-standard-fire-from-different-sun.html

[click on photo for larger sized viewing]

I Have This Fear

I have this fear, haunts me

like a recurring dream

Though no demons visit

still it comes from within

Fear doesn't go away

It stays and warms, I glow

Started, then I ignite

Spontaneous, combust

I fear spontaneous

combustion, evil death

'Twill be the end of me

I'm ashes in my mind

_ _ _ _

 - Photo and poem copyright , 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved, then for the Real Toads, 

    at https://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2016/09/i-have-this-fear-poem-out-of-standard.html

 - I am linked today with Magaly for her inspiration attempts, at Friday Writings #98, 

    https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

 - Magaly is back she is asking us to be inspired by one (or more) of the four classical elements: earth, air, fire, and water.

 - I was amazed to read so many poems that I had written using "fire" in their composition or for inspiration.  Read some here, https://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/search?q=fire 

 - I am linked back in 2016 with Izadore Guyre in the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Out of Standard - Fire from a Different Sun.   

   http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/09/out-of-standard-fire-from-different-sun.html

Notes: 
  - The photo was taken by my son, Tim, who, as a Boatman, had just untied this ship from the dock five minutes before.  The ship, leaving the Houston Ship Channel with its cargo, struck an obstruction in the water, leaking gallons and gallons of flammable liquid.  Some how the liquid floating on top of the water caught fire.  Causes and damages are still under investigation.  No life was lost.
 - Spontaneous Combustion is the burning of a human for no apparent reason.  This was common in 18th and 19th Century literature (a list of some).   I have read Dickens' Bleak House and also some references from Twain.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spontaneous_human_combustion (more information than you probably want to know there).
.. 

Going Gothic? Gross at Least -- a Poem for dVerse Poetics Day and Friday Writings

   filipendulous 

'twas most embarrassing 

most I've ever been 

hanging from a thin thread 

a big glob of snot 

a thin yellowish thread 

slimy sticky stream 

out from my nose dangling

holding glob from fall 

onto my chest would fall 

sneeze was bad enough 

bad, embarrassing me 

table of twenty 

nineteen were watching me 

left my hanky home 

host handed a cloth 

napkin shiny silk 

loosened by dreadful sneeze

mine was on the floor 

grateful and humbled big 

fiancé's rescue

    _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved

 - Prompt Word furnished by Kim, hosting dVerse Poetics today at 

  https://dversepoets.com/2023/07/11/poetics-one-word/

 - The word from Kim's list was used as my title, filipendulous, which means "hanging by something thin." "

 - Click here to read other's efforts' the fruit from others using the words they have chosen. 

 - I'm also linked with Magaly at the Friday Writings #85 though I've declined her very impressive prompt material.  I've been busy doing church work (VBS cadre) and have a lot of catching up to do.  Most will choose an option she offers.  See the work for all who are writing for her this week at  

    https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/ 

 - The first part of my poem reminds me of one time my sister coughed: 

sister's memories vary, she remembers best how I taught her to avoid smoking cigarettes. By some illicit means known only to me I had acquired a pack. We went down to the creek and 'smoked.' I think Lois smoked two.

She claims they made her sick. I only remember a lot of coughing and meaningless words from her. To this day I can't recall how I ever convinced her to 'smoke' the second.

My other favorite memory is teaching her to drive Dad's pickup. I taught a lot of girls and women to drive, maybe even ten. My kids count for two of them. Lois was always a bad driver. Once on the way home from school she ran over a neighbor's mailbox. Another time later in life she ran right into someone and totaled out a very nice Oldsmobile she and hubby, Jim. W, owned. [purloined from a previous post of mine, at 

   https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2010/06/flashback-friday-3-my-sister-lois.html ]

..

Bunny - a Prose Poem for the Sunday Muse

Devon Aoki
by Mikael Jansson 

I was calm 

it was calm 

beautiful sunny morning 

eating grass and 

once in a while

scratching my ear 

seems I'd done this 

near every day of my life 

Contentment 

surrounded me 

my mother had 

taught me well

cows and horses 

were my friends 

the pigs leave them alone 

they group together 

have a life of their own 

Dogs 

dogs were different 

to them you are prey 

a real meal treat 

raw and bloody 

unlike the 

two legged folk who 

take you in 

bake your brains 

my mother taught me well 

choose my friends 

with care mind my 

surroundings 

Different 

differently 

this day started  

I stopped munching 

wet grass wouldn't last 

groups of folk 

riding horses 

horses my friends 

but not today 

captive and submissive 

to leather and whips 

And 

the dogs 

pretty ones 

hounds of a kind 

finding a bunny 

bunny rabbit like me 

it was me 

chasing me in circles 

closer and closer 

to tragedy  

I had to run 

to where there 

was no end 

Friend 

my friend 

they'd shot him dead 

laying there in the grass 

I was to be next 

Backyard Bunny Rabbit at Peace 
©Jimmiehov 2016 

Broke 

somehow 

I'd broken away 

out of my circle 

I ran and hopped 

this way gun in hand 

how did that get there 

could I shoot it 

with my small 

paw 

Why 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 

 - Side Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2016, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo with others to choose from Carrie at the Sunday Muse #245 at  

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2023/02/sunday-muse-245.html?m=1 

 - Note, 223 words used for this write of a Maximum of 369 allowed, always now

..

The Riders - a Poem for the Sunday Muse

 The Homeless 

    Horse and Rider 

A homeless pair 

nameless two 

walking the streets 

he was a stray 

she has run away 

they lived under a bridge 

ate whatever 

folk in passing cars 

would bring 

or drop 

into their buckets 

more money than food 

money that was 

hard to spend 

they'd ride 

to the edge of town 

plains to the north 

seashore to the south 

there they'd 

gallop to 

their content 

bareback 'cause 

she'd hocked his saddle 

then one day 

they didn't come 

homeless horse had died 

no animal cemetery 

in their town 

where could she turn 

there'd be no wagon for him 

dog food and glue 

from processed horse 

not in her vocabulary 

what to do 

with her dead homeless horse 

horse with no name 

horse without a saddle 

what to do 

she cried and cried 

and cried the next night 

her homeless horse was gone 

gone but still here 

dead 

here dead leaving her alone 

the second morning 

she didn't wake 

she'd died crying 

crying to sleep 

sleep that didn't wake 

autopsies told 

O.D. for her 

worn out for him 

no more were the 

homeless riding 

pair 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Carrie for the Prompt Photo at the Sunday Muse #240,  

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2022/12/sunday-muse-240.html?m=1 

..

Sleeping Poor - a Poem for the Friday Writings

    My Bleeding Heart 

Mention not my bleeding heart 

Tales peoples of crass desires 

Tired of hearing my lament 

Their cold hearts seldom do bleed 

Tender hearted that I am 

Would they rather be hearing 

What woes of life's given me 

Which I'd never ever tell 

Life's hidden, my restless sleep 

Tear spots on my pillowcase  

The blood on my clean white sheets 

There tells the story I won't 

Life has left me bleeding heart 

Losses, love, animals, friends    

 _ _ _ 

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

 - I am linked with Magaly at the Friday Writings # 55,   https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/search/label/Friday%20writing%20prompts?m=1 

 - Magaly has invited us to create poetry or prose that includes a “bleeding heart” (figuratively or literally).   

 - Alligator we found in the Florida Everglades 

The Trip - a Write for Poetics:Choice

   

         Her Last Voyage 

Skittling along leaving familiar port  

Moves a little slow trip will be her last 

Headed for salvage dry dock berth for that 

At rest 'til she dies bones and flesh they'll pull 

Museums parts will spread children ooh and awe 

Older than grandpa amazed they will be 

Born in 1910, hundred ten years old

She's thinking stop, and go on no more 

There's no choice, they'll come, she goes steam or pushed     

Dogs needing their bones addicts need the smoke 

 _ _ _ 

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

 - I am linked with Chris and Grace, Poetics:Choice, dVerse, 

https://dversepoets.com/2022/08/30/poetics-choice/ 

 - Click Here to read other's poems and writings for this open choice day posting 

..

Lonely - a somewhat Dark Poem for the Sunday Muse

Photography by Alicia Savage

Awake feeling lonely again 

Once more she'd washed the dress she has 

Faithful friend mostly hides behind 

Faces the world but really not 

Incognito dwelling from all 

with all her fears 

closely behind 

Hanging that dress in the open 

Hoping, she sings find me find me  

Please I want better company 

The dress is old it's very old 

Though it's tired as she's 

 it hides not 

And her fears get washed now and then 

They never get clean like the dress 

Hidden long enough so go home 

Have a glass of wine 

soak her feet 

_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo prompts from Carrie at the Sunday Muse, 

   https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2022/08/sunday-muse-224.html 

..