A Date Perhaps? -- a Poem for Friday Writings and for dVerse Quadrille

 
                    [Courtesy "freepic.com]

  A Haven Not

Your place or mine

was question asked

no way ever

I'd make it yours

Yours'd be a trap

unwary falls

I am aware

of what's behind

Behind your door

jump out and scare

bejeebers out

never your place

Not safe for me

nor anyone

  _ _ _ 

  - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024, All Rights Reserved 

  - I am linked with Magaly Guerrero for hosting at Friday Writings #127 at 

     https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/ 

 - I am also linked with De Jackson for dVerse Quadrille Monday #201, prompt today "pine",  

   https://dversepoets.com/2024/05/13/quadrille-201-poems-of-place/ 

 - Quadrille Monday's poetry has exactly 44 words 

 - Click here to reads other's Quadrille poems 

     Perhaps you would like to write these also 

 - Note:  I used this same blog title August 21, 2023 for Jackson Quadrille Monday #182

https://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2023/08/a-date-perhaps-poem-for-dverse-quadrille.html

.. 

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 ]

..

Come Play or ?? -- a Poem for Sundy Muse

        Come on in 

        the gate is open there's 

        entertainment galore 

        fishing boating 

        hunting and swim 

        people are friendly 

        friends you'll make 

        money's to be made 

        buskers play and 

        paid in cash 

        go right for swim 

        and left for dry 

        come on down 

        the waters are fine 

        put in your order 

        have it your way 

        the way you like it 

        bottoms up or down 

        hot or cold 

        or luke warm 

        salty or sweet 

        mouthful try 

        swim or drown 

        we don't mind 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photos courtesy of Carrie for prompts and hosting, at the Sunday Muse #258,   

    https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2023/05/sunday-muse-258.html 

Epitaph* - a Senryū Spine Poem for the Friday Writings

"It was a sure thing"***

‘In the face of disaster…’**

Sure he could not loose  

Walk Away 

Blue Moon Haven 

The house in the orchard 

Death of a traitor 

“I’m a writer,                  

but then nobody’s perfect.” ***

by Billy Wilder                

**     Prompt phrase by Rosemary Nissen-Wade  (1941[est] - ) (also here)    

***  The funny epitaph of filmmaker Billy Wilder (1906 – 2002) 

_ _ _    

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved  - Notes:

 - I'm linked with Rosemary for the Prompt phrase at the Friday Writings #66 at  

    https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/ 

Notes: 

    a.   A spine poem is a Senryū where each line is a title of a book, as 

         written in it's spine 

    b.  I estimated Rosemary's birth year as she graduated from college 

         with a BA in 1962 

    c.  I checked out "The house in the orchard" as it claims to be 

        "the finest in gothic fiction" and I need examples and more 

         practice in writing gothic poems and fiction (Jim's Gothic Fiction) 

.. 

Scary writing? -- a Moon inspiration for my biting, howling and writing at the Friday Writings

    

    

“Blood is really warm, it’s like drinking hot chocolate but with more screaming.”

          Zombie Haiku: Good Poetry for Your… Brains, by Ryan Mecum 

    It's My Moon Tonight

The moon, my moon 

It's time for the Hunter's Blood Moon 

When full like that, 

red and bloody and very full 

My time, my moon 

Come Hunter's Blood Moon, fangs are out 

I hunt and hunt 

Hunt, a lady just right for me 

Look my way please  

Lady you are my kind tonight 

Your lovely neck 

I'll bite your neck and draw red blood 

Biting ladies 

Then drawing me some sweet hot blood 

That makes me howl 

Howl at the moon and bite some more 

Biting, howling 

Hunter's Blood Moon, Hunter's lady

Our Moon Tonight--for Halloween 

 _ _ _ 

I found this Halloween tree at our local Houston Methodist Hospital West this week 

  

 _ _ _ 

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

 - I am linked with Rommy for her Word "sweet" Prompt at Friday Writings #50,   https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2022/10/friday-writings-50-sweet.html which fits Rommy's theme word "sweet" as writing Prompt where links to other's writings are posted

 - I am also linked and posted at http://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2022/10/my-moon-poem-for-dverse-poetics-nights.html with sarahsouthwest for the Moon Photo at dVerse Poetic write night, to write with a word from her type moon word list, I chose Hunter's and Blood   

https://dversepoets.com/2022/10/18/mooning-around/.  I made a few changes for the Friday Writings entry

 - Click here to find others who have accepted Sarah's challenge 

.. 

Alone -- a Dark Poem for The Sunday Muse

  

Home Alone 

I'm here, all alone.  All alone except... 

Except that I do see my provider 

He brings me food and water now and then 

Now and then, because; when I do not know  

When's a nasty word to me, at his call 

He leaves my Cell with me, phone's disabled 

Disabled like I am, my mind is blank 

That's what he tells me, says to say to you 

So if you come then it is, move the wedge 

Wedge is gone, door can open, I'd be free  

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo choices from Carrie's Prompt, The Sunday Muse #212, 

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2022/05/sunday-muse-212.html  

 - NOTE:  I will answer your comments if google allows me.  It is making me comment as "anonymous" on the Blogger posts.  Some aren't even allowed.  I will ANSWER to your blog if and when I can.  I can't even leave comments on my own blog.

..

The Dream -- NaPoWriMo 2023 Day 25

 Nightmare Lady Beloved

I had this dream last night 

It's a recurring dream 

Always of you my dear 

You come to wreck my head 

Last night you wanted be 

You'd be Queen for a day 

That's it the way it starts 

You'd be boss over me 

I don't like being bossed 

But with you that's okay 

You've a cause to defend 

Worthy of fighting for 

Leaders Nazi type are

Taking your country down

Terrible sounding news 

Trouble she had pronounced 

What to do, what to do 

Quandried head she had made 

We took it by the horns 

Swords and sabres unsleaved  

Grabbed her by her skirt tail 

Flew to the town center 

Uprising taking place 

We swished and swashed heads rolled 

What a mess there was strewn 

Bodies scattered around 

One soldier lived we'd take 

Take him to jail prisoner 

Lifted up fighting still 

Holding out wouldn't go 

With his last gasping breath 

Stabbed us both to our death 

She put on her crown, Queened 

We flew away where safe 

Wait for another night 

Wait for another dream 

 _ _ _ 

 - Photo (read note below) and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022 

 - I am linked with NaPoWriMo Day 25 for the prompt,  https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-five-8/ 

 - The prompt was to write an aisling poem, see the above link

 - I made my own screenshot of the Aisling figure, I found her here, 

https://heroes-and-villain.fandom.com/wiki/Aisling 

..

Sunday Muse - Neighbor Dreaming

 

   The girl next ... 

The girl next door 

Always in my dreams 

Face to behold 

Beauty beyond means 

Beauty's skin deep 

I've always been told 

But in this dream 

Ugliness unfolds 

Body's the same 

Pretty face as well 

There's something wrong 

Makeup's cast a spell 

Black and pale white 

Colors of her choice 

I pinch myself 

Her picks I've no voice 

Awake I know 

Female at play 

Grisly gruesome 

Halloween's today 

 - - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - For this inspirational photo I'm linked with Fireblossom at The Sunday Muse #182, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/10/sunday-muse-182.html?m=1  

.

Sunday Muse - These Three

 Three Guys -- Larry, Harry, and Barry; there might more 

These three guys are a basket case.  Useless now.  Afraid.  

of their Shadows. 

So now let's find. Find their situations. Situations.  Troubled situations.  

A caveat.   I've met two of them.  Only these aren't their real pictures.  

First there's Larry.   Larry the smoker.  

Larry was a chain smoker.  A chain smoker who smoked like a choo choo train.   Wouldn't stop when his cancer of the mouth and cancer of the left lung were getting him down.  Down but not out he said.  

Doctor, doctor, please make me a hole in my esophagus so that I can breathe again.  Breathe he did but inhale also. Inhale the smoke from his cigar.  

Then there's Harry.  Harry the Bather 

Harry fell one day.  He fell through the shower door.  Fell on his nose and his face.  He broke the glass, little pieces.  Hand mirror sized but not that kind of glass.   

Surgery.  Surgery a lot.  Surgery that could not fix his face.  

So he hid his face.  Hide it behind a towel.  Even when he walked.  That's the way he walked.  Carried it in his hand when no one was around.  But when he sat he hid his face, hid it rested on the back of his chair.  The chair didn't care.  Liked him just the same.  

And the third guy.  Barry.  I've named him Barry because it rhymes with Barely but Barelys' not a real name.  But Barry is barely there.  Barry knows it's his time, time to get messed up.  Messed up like his buddies got. 

That bugs not out of him. 

Barry does have three legs, one original and two tacked to his bod.  The three of them help his balance, a three legged milk stool comes to mind.  That is embarrassing so he hides behind his mother's woolen skirt.  Looks at you coyly when you pass by.

 _ _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Fireblossom, aka Shay, for The Sunday Muse #178 picture prompts at http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/09/sunday-muse-178.html?m=1 

 - I'm also linked with Rosemary at The Writers' Pantry #88,  https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/09/writers-pantry-88-season-turns.html?m=1 

 - Note:  This actually happened to the first two men, actions but not the same results as I posted.  The third fellow, Barry, is fictitious. 

 - I used 324 words.  

Weekly Scribblings -- Daring

from the Lewis Carol poem, Jabberwocky*

"One, two! One, two! And through and through

      The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, . . . "  Lewis Carol poem, Jabberwocky**

Daring to do right 

I came, I saw, dare I do him what's right?

Or do what the other kids were doing? 

The others were teasing him with a stick 

I decided to kill him dead, very

Very dead before he reproduces 

Somerton man*** vilest man on our earth 

He stole rooster chickens pulled off their heads 

Drank their blood while it was warm and gooey  

Milked cows in the fields force fed waiting ducks 

Made chicken pie for hungry China kids 

The cost is low for killing evil men 

 - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Magaly Guerrero at the Weekly Scribblings #75,   https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/06/weekly-scribblings-75-between-what-is.html

 - "Magaly would like us to write poetry or prose inspired by the idea of choosing between what is right and what seems easy" 

 - Notes:

   *""Jabberwocky" is a nonsense poem written by Lewis Carroll about the killing of a creature named "the Jabberwock". It was included in his 1871 novel Through the Looking-Glass, the sequel to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1865). The book tells of Alice's adventures within the back-to-front world of Looking-Glass Land."  The Illustration was a part of the original publication. Wikipedia 

         ** https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42916/jabberwocky 

   *** Somerton man - No one owns up to knowing the details of the unidentified "Somerton man", found dead in 1948 at Somerton Beach, Adelaide,  Australia.  IN MY WRITE TODAY I HAVE HIM AS A VISCOUS VILLAIN LOOSE ON THE STREETS.   This would be an extreme, he is being exhumed in an attempt to learn more about him using DNA related technology.

    "CNN - The children know the man whose portrait hangs above their playroom door as Mister S or Mister Somerton.

His real name remains a mystery more than 70 years after he was found dead in a smart brown suit on an Australian beach, a half-smoked cigarette resting on his collar." Read more at CNN

 .

Sunday Muse Poem ~~ The Cat

 

The Cat 

it began with expectancy,  

a night with The Cat, 

Halloween one 

her cat 

a night of fun

tonight, 

though he rubbed her leg, 

begged to be petted 

or scratched, 

even so,

he seemed to be 

melancholy 

The Cat,

he'd been like that before 

ended the night 

showing his meanness 

in various ways 

sometimes 

drawing scarlet from 

her veins, arm legs back 

and thighs 

this night was like that 

only worse 

he scratched 

and clawed and 

bit her everywhere 

she was oozing red 

even from beneath 

her clothes

pounced on her throat 

teeth seemed like a 

vampire's fangs 

deep they sank 

she could hardly breath, 

his body pressing hard 

against her larynx, 

there for his 

taking 

by strength she didn't know she had

she grabbed him by the throat and 

picked him up, his claws thrashing

he was gasping for air now, 

pushing himself away

she ran with him that way

threw him into his kennel. 

out on the back porch 

 there to stay until 

he gets nice 

again

another night 

another fight 

this time 

meaner than before 

time to be serious with 

him? 

her cat, 

The Cat, 

her one and only 

true love 

should she tell her dad 

could she tell her dad 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo furnished by Fireblossom, at the link below, for our inspiration to write 

 - I am linked with Fireblossom at Sunday Muse #148, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/02/sunday-muse-148.html?m=1 

Poem -- Acrostic

S W A L L O W   S C R E A M S; 
  f o r   D I N N E R  

"Swallow", word I hated to hear
Word meant for me to drink
Always evening dinner they would come
Liquid so thick my tonsils would stick
Laying there oozy back of my throat
Lolloping stuck like a drunken truck
Waiting but that Swallow coming not

Screams in the night dreams keep me awake
Cry out I could not no one to hear
Remembering song they wished to hear
Each note sticking to a brain cell
Again and again, over over
My sobs holding back as if I dare
Silenced by my fear though not afraid

for at the brink at night I dared not
only noise I made tears hitting the floor
red with blood from twisted bleeding ears

Dying my wish, that comes other day  
Instead it's 'Swallow some more' 'til then  
Nobody cares get rid of the junk
Next day no matter same o' same o' *
Each day I live to Swallow better
Remarkably I never do puke

A few South American Critters:
[click photo for larger views]

 

[from an excursion on our 'Around South America' cruise]

_ _ _

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
  - I'm linked with Magaly Guerrero at Weekly Scribblings # 33, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/08/weekly-scribblings-33-swallow-screams.html?m=1
 - Magaly wants us to include the words, "Swallow screams for dinner" in our work.
 * https://idioms.thefreedictionary.com/same+o+%27+same+o+%27