Sad, sad, Fisher Soul - a Poem for Friday Writings

     What I saw 

Walking along the beach one day 

I happened on a fisher soul 

Catching a lot of fish that day 

Poor soul was throwing back a lot 

Big ones, long, person was throwing 

And keeping much, much, smaller fish 

I asked our soul why doing that 

Soul shrugged foolishly, frying pan 

A nine inch skillet's all I have 

It's just right for the smaller fish 

 _ _ _ 

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

 - I am linked with Rosemary with Friday Writings #33 at 

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2022/07/friday-writings-33- 

daring-to-dream.html?m=1

  - Rosemary has asked us to respond to the phrase ‘Dream big’. 

 - Ten lines, eighty syllables for her.

..

A Poem for Sunday Muse -- Days in the Life

 Goldie in a Glass Cage 

Her wish had almost come true

All her life she had wanted 

Little fish wishing to be 

A mermaid in her glass cage 

So excited she had been 

The day her new owner came  

Most fish had hoops, toys and trees

But Goldie of these had none 

They fed her well gave her smiles 

She dreamed of fine play-ponds, but ... 

Exercise had no meaning 

Swam back and forth--eight inch cube 

Then, sigh, came her fateful day 

Relief she thought out she went 

Another room, deep white bowl 

Harshly dropped and all went dark 

Gushing currents through a tube 

Seemed forever all was dark 

Had the end come?  It did not 

Lonely dark ride, shines glass cage 

So when they put you away 

You'll be mere toilet bowl stuff  

Better than making cat food

Mermaid was not, kept her gills 

 _ _ _ _ 

  - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

  - I'm linked with Chrissa for the prompt photo at the Sunday Muse # 136,  http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/11/sunday-muse-136.html?m=1

Poem, Endless Love

Formerly posted April 28, 2020 

for NaPoWriMo Day 28 -

Without Numbers;

Too many to count 

My love for you begins at South 

It climbs mountains to wink at stars 

And goes back down into the dale  

Zillions and zillions times over 

Each step each blink of eye 

My love for you filling my mind 

I know you feel the same for me 

Numberless as the beach buggers 

Smacking lips wishing for fresh fish 

Consumes us both my love for you 

Your love for me we do exchange 

Till we reach North which never comes 

Numberless steps before it ends 

Love made from all the sweet flowers 

Numberless in themselves we coo 

Coo and cuddle will never end 

I love you you love me dizzy 

Up and down those high hills higher 

Higher and higher our love grows 

Numberless buggers North as well 

Blessed in High Heaven is our love 

 - Poem and Photos Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
 - Links:
 - - Skylover at https://kerryoconnorsother.blogspot.com/2020/03/a-skylover-wordlist-3030.html?m=1 for Wordlist prompt, "Numberless"
 - - Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2020/04/april-2020-days-26-30.html?m=1
 - - NaPoWriMo Day 28 at http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-eight-6/
 - - Rommy in the Writer's Pantry, May 3, 2020, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

NaPoWriMo Day 25 - Poem for Sunday Muse

 "The Sea Within" painting by 

Samy Charnine 

Sea Within 

What do I see in the 

sea within 

Little glass bowl full of toys 

and one small fishie 

We named her Betsy we 

watch her swim 

She seemed to like us 

could  you love a fish 

It would be so easy were 

your head like a pretty little 

glass bowl 

I sit by hours watching 

when you are asleep 

I wish it were always like 

that glass bowl 

Fishes there to tell me from  

within your pretty head 

Because at times I wonder 

Do you love me like I love you 

There's flowers in the morning 

and chocolate at noon 

Both telling me that 

you love me so very much 

Like I love you 

_ _ _ 

 - Poèm Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - I'm linked for my prompt with Carrie Van Horn at Sunday Muse,  

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/04/sunday-muse-105.html?m=1
 - I'm also linked with Kerry O'Connor in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2020/04/april-2020-days-21-25.html?m=1
 - And with  NaPoWriM Day   at  http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-five-6/

NaplPoWriMo 2020 Day 19 -- Poem, A Morning at the Pier

        Postcard photo from Margart-

        of Artistic Interpretations 

At the Pier 

Here I am sitting

Here I sit dangling my legs

On this pier my thoughts are born

My dreams are wished, feet get washed

My wishes disclosed 

COVID 19, go away

For Rainbow's end Pot of Gold

Food on table and food line

And my feet get washed

The fishes swim over them

I don't need soap--wouldn't work

Big fish I'll grab with my net

And then?

Wave goodbye to fish and  ships

Dog glad to have me come home

Make us some  food fish and chips 

Jim's Happy Beagle, Adi 

https://youtu.be/4qGUaj8Jb60

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
  - I am linked with Margaret at Artistic Interpretations,  https://postcardartisticinterpretations.blogspot.com/2020/04/artistic-interpretations-3-moonlight.html?m=1
 - I'm also linked with Sanaa Rizvi in the Writer's Pantry at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/04/writers-pantry-16-april-prepares-us-for.html?m=1
 - And with Kerry O'Connor in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2020/04/april-2020-days-16-20.html?m=1
 - And with NaPoWriM Day 19 at http://www.napowrimo.net/day-nineteen-5/

Birds, Fish, and their sharing - a Poem

It was early afternoon, by the pool

Mr. Fish and Ms. Bird , sitting, talking

Of the cares of the world a few they shared

'Twas a good starting place nightfall would close

Foremost on their wee minds was "Climate Change,"

Bird most concerned about rising oceans

Fish gloated for all the water for him

Inseparable? Neither looked beyond self

Conversation soon turned to family

She a nest in waiting little ones soon

He young and untried.  Share one another

and their love life of which care had no song  

Silence surrounded, forbidden for them

they of different kinds, fish and fowl don't match

_ _ _ _

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked with Sanaa Rizvi  in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/03/get-listed-late-march-edition.html 
 - Sanaa had a word list, twenty words of which we would use at least three which I used four.  You can see the list at the link above, they are underlined in my writing [afternoon, inseparable, care, forbidden].
 - To read MORE about the fish and the fowl, click and read here.

an unusual Fish Story, true I say

Betsy lives in a tree

My fish lives in a tree

Not the way I would choose

She's a mind of her own

Tell you about my fish

Her name is Betsy Dear

Gave to me by Kellie

my youngest granddaughter

Betsy was hers at first

Misses and she found her

In the pet store down there

at the end of our street

Shiny black Betta fish

Fairly cheap she came here

Betta fish are two or three

or five or ten dollars

Class you buy high or low

At first she had no tree

and slept in her sand box

Kind Misses bought her one

A small tree just her own

She sleeps and swims around

All day long doing that

Come morn I lift her hood

She stays in the tree

Lingers, finish her dream

Is she dead or alive

Soon she comes for her food

Breakfast Ala Água

Why does Betsy live here

It's her home and her tree

Over "there" with Kellie 

There's allergy to fish 

And her little secret
It's between her and me 

 _ _ _ _

 - Photos [click on one to make it larger] and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2018, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with  Vivian Zems  in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/10/the-tuesday-platform_16.html 

 - When I write in First Person hardly any of my poems are entirely true, generally they have some embellishment of facts all the way to being entirely fiction.  This one however, is entirely true except for our granddaughter's name.  On my blogs she is generally KP.

 - Betsy is in a small aquarium which I just cleaned yesterday, that is done once a week or more often.  The little people are antique Fisher Price "little people" that came with a toy.  Across the pond is another fellow from a MacDonald's Happy Meal, an orange haired fellow driving a ride his water vehicle of sorts.  Betsy spends time visiting with them but now she spends more time in her tree than visiting.
 - How to Play with Your Betta, a Betta Blogger post.



What to do? -- A poem for Tuesday

My choice;

Fishing or flying;

Whether to fish or should I fly,  

Those are my choices for today 

Soaring with my friends, my buddies

High above the waters and trails

The clear blue sky above beckons

Beckons for me to be a part

Or should I sit by waters edge

Waiting and hoping for a fish

A small carp may come floating by

Tangy bites for my family 

Flying I'll join Nature's wonders 

Far above or come swooping by

For those below part of their show

There are bugs to catch way up there 

Fishing is relaxing. lean back 

and join with friends, watch for balloons  

Till I see my prey swimming by

Catch it'll make for feasting this day 

Can't resist the lure,

I'll make the big catch 

(written by me, White Crane)

_ _ _ _  

Photos and Poem Copyright, © 2018 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved 

The photos were taken by me on morning walks in the 'green belt' for flood control. My walk starts at the end of our street, one block from out house.  There are miles of nice walking trails. 

I'm linked with Magaly, at the Imaginary Garden, The Tuesday Platform
http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/02/the-tuesday-platform.html

Seagulls I Have Known ~~ a poem for Tuesday Platform

Seagulls I Have Known

 

Seagulls I have known, so near, so far 

They have entered the door of my life

Follow me and my ship, I travel

Others stay at home, contentedly

 

~ ~ ~

 

Seagulls I have known, so near, so far 

Some I have never seen, Face Book friends 

Birthplace or distant lands they have moved 

Living next door, neighbors never met

 

They have entered the door of my life 

In some way, somewhere, our matters touch

Staying for life, days or day, an evening

We laugh, we cry, we love, we may part

 

Follow me and my ship, I travel 

Looking for food, scraps or fish been stirred 

Perhaps their own bellies first, hunger

Or loving others their life's purpose

 

Others stay at home, contentedly 

They, no burning desire to travel

or move away, stay close in comfort

Them a must visit, friendship fire tend 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Some gulls wander, beach's sinking ships 

Age Matters, little ones and unborn

Older ones half forgotten or gone

Others strayed for play, delicacies  

~ ~ ~ 

~ ~ ~

 

Some gulls wander, beach's sinking ships

Beckoned by the lure of the unknown 

But their rusted ship nowhere will go

Wisdom tells, from these ships stay away

 

Age matters, little ones and unborn, 

perhaps a grandchild, bright their future

Teens and young adults guidance give them

Parents.  All their flights can use our light

 

Older ones half forgotten or gone 

Loved, in our hearts remain, memories

Role models for us, knew where the fish, 

when to dive, with patience they waited

 

Others strayed for play, delicacies 

Fulfilling inborn adventure lust

We love them still, wish for their content

And envy them not, our life our own

 

~ ~ ~ 

~ ~ ~

 

Seagulls I have known, touching my life 

Blessings they've been or projects for me

Friends the most, fleeting or here to stay

Their flights, my path, delicately merged 

_ _ _ _

 

Pictures and Poem Copyright, Ó Jimmiehov 2016, All Rights Reserved

 

I'm linking with Marian at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/12/the-tuesday-platform_27.html

 

Note:  Again I very likely will not be returning your comments.  I am sorry not to but I do hope that you will still leave your comments here.  These days will soon end and I will again try to faithfully return your nice comments.  Thank you, Jim

The Little Fish ~~ a Flash poem (meaning 'short')

(The Little Fish) 
 

I am the

Little Fish

Swimming in my pond 
 

Swimming is my delight

Exploring my pond 
 

Seems there is always new

Sights daily to see 

I am the

Little Fish

Swimming in my pond 

I swim from morn to night

No bell on my tail 
 

People come, watch me swim 

Wink and wave for them

_ _ _

 

Poem Copyright 2016, @ Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved 

 

Photo courtesy of Kerry O'Conner, at

the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, 55 Words Plus!

http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/09/flash-55-plus.html

 

The picture is copyright, 2006 by the Nigerian

painter, sculptor and musician known as Twins Seven Seven.

Kerry and I are claiming "Fair Use" of this painting copy

 

Fair Use Principles:

• It is a historically significant artwork 
• The image is only being used for informational and educational purposes 
• The image is readily available on the internet 
• The image is a low resolution copy of the original artwork and is unsuitable for commercial use

Kerry's Instructions:

My poem is exactly 55 words with NO TITLE. The title, "The Little Fish" is three words in parentheses to me means "do not count words for this."

Cottage on the lake -- Play it Again Challenge

 

Cottage on the Lake

 

A little cottage on the lake

Quiet place I can get away

Draw, write, compose, fly time away

 

Fish in the day and watch for snake

I'll clean my fish then fry and eat

Nature calls, has city life beat

 

Live off the land, a life to make

Rest and peace brings creativeness

Need no more for persuasiveness

 

Watch the stars at night while awake

Listen, their story jot it down

Paint the scenes from my sketches drawn

 

From my small cottage on the lake

I've forgotten business rat race

And done a complete about face  

 

A little cottage on the lake

 Fish in the day and watch for snake

Live off the land, a life to make

Watch the stars at night while awake

From my small cottage on the lake

_ _ _ 

 

Photo and Poem Copyright © 2015 Jimmiehov

All Rights Reserved

 

 - I'm writing for Margaret’s Play It Again challenge to the Real Toads using the CONSTANZA poetry form option(The Schema is a - b - b / a -c -c / a - d - d / a - e - e / a - f - f  in which each line has 8 syllables)

 

 - And now on Tuesday I am linking with the Real Toads again for the The Tuesday Platform hosted by Kerry O'Connor.

 

 - The picture I took from our Viking River Cruise boat on "the river" someplace in Russia between Moscow and St. Petersburg.  You can read some about that river cruise and see more pictures on my other blog, Jim's Little Blog, click here.