I loved, I ... -- a Poem

Fräulein to Frau

 

Mox nicht and with a shrug 

of the shoulders 

she left 

It looked so easy but we all knew  

She would be crying all night 

So did it really matter?   

Indeed it did, she loved that bum 

with a passion 

not known since Cleopatra 

pulled her big stunt 

A happy ending here,

she did recover 

and lived 

happily ever after  

 

She was 

just one of the many 

better 

better for loving 

and losing  

Mox nicht 

with the world 

nor us, her 

friends 

Dah

 _ _ _ _

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2018, All Rights Reserved 
 - I'm linked with Fireblossom, aka Shay, in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/09/fireblossom-friday-say-word.html?m=1
 - I couldn't resist writing as my recollections of three semesters said, "Pay up."

New Years Eve poem -- HAPPY NEW YEAR to all

A spine poem:

 

Master of the Game

 

A willing Victim

Claiming his wedding night

Last snow

- - -

Picture and Poem Copyright, Ó Jimmiehov 2016, All Rights Reserved
 
I'm linking with  By brudberg at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/12/physics-with-bjorn-brownian-motion.html
It's a little loose on the prompt but snow, literally, is heaped with physics.
Thank you Bjorn, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
p.s. I am unavailable to return comments but I'd love to have yours.
Next week will be better.  THANKS!

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

Flash poetry, "Little Snowbird"

 Little Snowbird 

Little snow bird, where do you go?  
Sitting warm here on the plaza, 
I'd like to know where all you go 

Dressed so fine, tight short shorts of white 
Every step you take, every bite 
you eat, I want to watch them all 

Hiding from the snow and its drifts 
Here in the sunshine strutting fine 
White shorts shapely legs, nice turn-on 

Here on my Plaza bench, Christmas 
Tree sanctified,  there's room for you 
Music's Latin beat, we can dance 
Ask Mama? May I take you home? 
_ _ _ _ 

Poem copyright, Jimmiehov,2016, All Rights Reserved

Today I'm linked with Magaly's Flash Fiction, "Snow Birthed Tales (13  lines  maximum) at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads; http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/12/poetry-and-flash-fiction-with-magaly.html

An Artistic Interpretation 'writing'

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
[click picture for larger view]
[I'm riding at "Blogstock '08"] 

What manner white horse

White horse with a horn
That'd be a unicorn
Someone's fantasy
Look again how does he stand
On a pole--toy store stick horse
 _ _ _ _

Photo and Poem copyright, © 2015 and 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved

I'm linked with Margaret at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Artistic Interpretations, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/11/artistic-interpretations-with-margaret.html

Notes:
1. Margaret has introduced us to Carol Law Conklin, Batik Artist. One of her prints is called "The Last Unicorn."  We have permission to copy and post some of her works. Tomorrow I will post that one here. In the meantime you can see it and Ms. Conklin's other works at the link above. 
2. I had planned to write differently, of a youngster finding a real Unicorn even though they have gone into extinction years and years ago. But my time for writing has been taken from me, hence this quickly keyed Tanka above.
3.  Time has become very precious again, I may not get all of your comments return. I am sorry for that. I do try to read your writings though. 

A challenge poem for today ~~ written for "music with meow"

I'd like for you to read the 'poem' before you play the video.  Thanks.
..

 Featuring Zack de la Rocha (of Rage Against the Machine)

Super Cat

Super Cat awoke one morning 
on the wrong side of the bed. 
Kicked the dog and went back to bed. 
This Hip Hop Music, has it gone to his head?  
He used to be sweet and mellow, yellow kitty. 
What is going on?

Who called the cops, he's done no wrong?  
Take 'em down!  He's bigger than them all, 
bigger than their car.  Dragon breath spray 
might turn them around, he'll see. 
Burned the car, cops and all. 
Now he's in deep trouble.

Joined by his friend, she saw what he done.  
Bad!  Cop burning is touchy, even for us.
Bad luck! Black Cats bring bad luck too, 
literally and even if the cat is your 
best friend. Oh dear, more?
Oh dear, close his eyes. 

When he awoke again he was on the floor, 
Black Cat was there as well. She was 
sleeping, head on our hero's shoulder, 
licking his paws in her sleep. 
His toys were scattered amongst,
police car toy not burned.

Was there any meaning to this bad dream?
Super Cat might never know. 
Scary but to shrinks he'd never see. 
Change his music he must. 
Yellow Mellow will do fine. 
One life's surely gone, eight to go.
_ _ _ _

Poem copyright, © 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved
Video copied from Marian at the link below.
I am linked with Marian at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Music with Meow.  http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/11/music-with-meow.html

Marian suggested that we watch and listen to the two videos on here post (above link), with the object of gaining inspiration for writing from our viewing.

I'm also linked with Sandee at her "Feline Friday" here, (she has a lot of pretty cats linked)  https://comedyplus.blogspot.com/2016/11/feline-friday_23.html
..

Sunday Mini-Challenge ~~ a poem, Life's Ups and Downs

Life's Ups and Downs;
when will stabbleness come?

Life has its ups, life has its downs 
We all like the ups, hate the downs 
Chances you were born into down 
Poor parents eking their living 

Where was your silver spoon that day
Olden days, you're more likely down
Down where you rode in a rusting 
Ford Model A's rear window shelf

Roof leaking, water pouring in 
Floor boards were rotting, smoking car
Had rice and beans or bread, breakfast 
Mom's cheese was making on back porch 

Your doctor's bills hadn't been paid
Drove to Grandma's on Mondays 
Mom would wash, you'd schmooze with Grandma
Then home, clean sheets for side porch bed 

One room school beckoned you. Recite
Recite ABC's from long bench 
Listen, eighth graders Poe recite 
Soon you'll know "Pit and Pendulum" 

By high school things might be better 
Mom was working, Dad's promotion 
Store bought clothes, am I now the King
Make the football team, break a leg

Seemed to be a down but then not 
The kids would autograph your cast 
A hero for days, Sally wrote 
Then she moved away.  Save your cast

Sweet Sal left, didn't go away 
Every night I dreamed of Sally 
(Facebook, where were you hiding then?)
I never did see her again 

to be continued, more to come 
(Might fill a couple of volumes
things got settled, time, older, up)

- - - -

Photo and Poem copyright, © 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved

I am linked with Brendan MacOdrum at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Sunday Mini-Challenge: Still Points -- http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/11/sunday-mini-challenge-still-points.html
_ _ _ _

This poem has given me peace, not because of it's words, but that the time that I memorized it in grade school was a very peaceful time in my life:

Abou Ben Adhem

By Leigh Hunt 1784–1859 Leigh Hunt 
     
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)

Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,

And saw, within the moonlight in his room,

Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,

An angel writing in a book of gold:—

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,

And to the presence in the room he said,

"What writest thou?"—The vision raised its head,

And with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."

"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"

Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,

But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then,

Write me as one that loves his fellow men."

 

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

It came again with a great wakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blest,

And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

 



Challenge poem ~~ for "I felt the earth move"

 

On the overpass;

moving, shuddering

Here we sit like birds on a wire

The wire's trembling, bad. I follow

My seat is trembling, the mirrors

are vibrating. I'd wear ear plugs 

if I had some, the bass wins out 

Sitting here on this overpass

Bridge shudders, mocking trucks below

I'm waiting for traffic to start

Watching my mirrors, they quiver

"Piano Man" doing his thing

The man behind is waiting too

Watching his mirrors keep the beat 

Wishing for traffic's start again

Knows my radio won't be hushed
Another bird, stuck behind me 

[click pictures for full screen] [click here for very large size]
_ _ _ _

Top Photo and Poem copyright, Jimmiehov 2016, All Rights Reserved

Bottom Photo copyright, Jimmiehov 2007 (link), All Rights Reserved -- First posted on "CUT AND SHOOT, TEXAS 77306 -- A guided picture tour", (link).

I'm linked with Fireblossom at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, I Feel The Earth Move;   http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/11/fireblossom-friday-i-feel-earth-move.html

The poem is supposed to be inspired by Carole King's song called "I Feel The Earth Move."  Carol's situation in her song is upbeat, from being in love, we are to think of being let down. 

It's been a long time since I've been literally let down so I was prompted to write of my world literally shaking from a very loud car stereo on an overpass which shook from the busy traffic speeding along below.  The bridge shakes from below, the car mirrors keep the music beat when the radio is played full blast.  My human reaction was of the fellow in the car behind who didn't particularly care for my loud music playing.

I'm Bored ~~ A ditty for "Play it Again" challenge

I'm Bored;
I want off this train

I'm bored, I want off this train
This train is going nowhere
Nowhere that I want to go
Please let me off, stop the train 
(Refrain)

The seats are dirty and old
The carpets are soiled with milk
Milk train stops at every town
Stops where I don't want to go
(Refrain)

This train is slow, slowed with age
I'm no spring chicken, I'll go
You ride this train all you want
I'm getting off the next stop
(Refrain)

Refrain:
There's a new train in our town
It takes me where lights are bright
Where I've been wanting to go
I liked you once but no more

_ _ _

Poem copyright, Jimmiehov 2016, All Rights Reserved

Photo is a "Print Screen" copy of Boredom by Kenia Cris found at The Sunday Challenge ~ Featuring Kenia Cris, March 3, 2012, at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads; http://withrealtoads.blogspot.co.za/2012/03/sunday-challenge-featuring-kenia-cris.html

I'm linked today with Kerry O'Conner at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Play It Again, Toads! ; http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/11/play-it-again-toads.html

And again on Tuesday, I linked with Kerry O'Conner at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.  This time for the Tuesday Platform (link).  My train riding can also apply to politics, stay with the system or ride with the supposedly to be new ride.

Notes:
 (1) At "Play it Again" we are to go back to past Garden days and write for one of three suggested posts or another oldie.  I chose to write my poem, "I'm Bored", based on Kenia's art at the first link above.
 (2) Kenia Cris can be found in  various social media places, use Google to find them.  Her poetry currently is to be found here, http://anexerciseonexisting.blogspot.com/. 
 - Some of her photographic art can be found here, http://kenia-cris.deviantart.com/.

Night Ventures ~~ a Poem for Haloween time

 

I am the Vampire

I am the Vampire, you'd not know it now
But come a full moon, you will know it then

My teeth will grow long, primed to bite your neck
Please scream, play along. No?  I still will bite

You can't miss my howl, fangs bared I will search
Dressed in black long tailed coat, slink through the dark

Taste your blood, I sense it's sweet, warm and sweet
You won't die to self, we'll prevail, come dear
_ _ _ _

Photos and Poem Copyright 2016, © Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
Photo is a "Print Screen" copy from the result of a Googling Search on 'Vampire Costume'
https://www.google.com/search?sourceid=navclient&ie=UTF-8&rlz=1T4GGHP_enUS574US574&q=vampire+costume

I am linked with Brudberg at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Creatures of the Night -- http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/10/creatures-of-night.html

Note: this my line, a playful line.  There is more but that is all I will tell here.

Who was Adi?— a "Poem" fashioned after Emily Dickinson's ...

Who was Adi?—

Adi loved ice cream—

Adi loved to be loved—

Adi loved to chase squirrels—

Adi helped boys and girls to read—

Adi liked to help people in need—

Adi had sweet big brown eyes—

Adi was brown skinned—

Adi had brown hair—

Adi by my bed on the floor—

Adi was my best buddy— 
Adi loved car rides—

Adi died in 2013—

Adi was my beagle dog—

From a previous post:

                   "Adi is retiring from Pet Partners

.

Adi's working life link

Lot's about Adi link

.

Dear Jim,

Thank you for notifying us. We will be sure to honor Adi's past contribution to our Pet Partners Therapy Animal Program in our Interactions Magazine, and "Pet Partners, Retired" on our web page.

Warm Regards,
Kelly Schnitzmeier" (Early post link here)

Photos and Poem copyright, © 2012, 2006, 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved

Early post link here

I'm linked with Gillena Cox at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads,  FASHION ME YOUR WORDS ~ a query (check this link for Gillena's directions in more detail and an Emily Dickinson poem sort of like mine)
We were to 'craft' a poem modeled after Emily Dickinson, ‘Answer July’.  We were to have no more than 100 words, I wrote 70 counting the title.

How Many? -- a Poem for Bob Dylan

How Many

How many times must a man fall down
  Before he gets picked up no more
How many times must a child get killed
  Before we take the guns away
How many times must the girls be sold
  Before we don't raise any more
The answer my friend, is not to be had
  The answer is not to be had

How many souls must come to their end
  Before motherhood stops in vain
How many graves for the little ones
  Before the earth will hold no more
How many families loose their precious ones
  Before all are rotting away
The answer my friend, is not to be had
  The answer is not to be had

How many times must a bad man kill
  Before they take his toys away
How many men will be locked away
  Before greedy men go to Hell
How many days will turn into years
  Before God makes the carnage stop
The answer my friend, He alone does know
  God alone the answer does know

_ _ _ _ 

 

Photos and Poem copyright, © 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved

 

Today I'm linked with Kerry O'Conner at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Kerry Says ~ It's Blowing ... [http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/10/kerry-says-its-blowing-in-wind.html]

For our springboard, Kerry said: "On Thursday, October 13, Bob Dylan became the first song-writer to be awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, ‘having created new poetic expressions within the great American song tradition.’ Dylan is the only artist to have won a Grammy, Golden Globe, Pulitzer, Polar, Oscar and the Nobel Prize." And more.

Notes: 
(1) The bigger bad boys, i.e. I.S.I.S. and the like have very large toys, cannon sized and still larger.

(2) https://www.google.com/search?sourceid=navclient&ie=UTF-8&rlz=1T4GGHP_enUS574US574&q=boy+dylan

Born: May 24, 1941 (age 75), Duluth, MN

Full name: Robert Allen Zimmerman Spouse: Carolyn Dennis (m. 1986–1992), Sara Dylan (m. 1965–1977)_ _ _ _

Jimmie's Got a Gun
.Dum, dum, dum, honey what have you done
Dum, dum, dum, it's the sound of my gun
Dum, dum, dum, honey what have you done
Dum, dum, dum, it's the sound, it's the sound...
Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah....

Janie's Got A Gun
Janie's Got A Gun
Her whole world's come undone
From lookin' straight at the sun
What did her daddy do
What did he put you through

From Aerosmith - Janie's Got A Gun Lyrics (There's more at the link. I interpret 'daddy' to be her old man in hippy terms and the 'little baby' (later in the song) meant that Janie was very young--way too young.)

 

[For larger pictures click on to the picture, try again for larger still]

I blogged of my guns and gun experiences here.  Since most of those I have acquired a real gun that I could keep.  It is a Spanish 9mm pistol of which the manufacturer has long gone out of business.  It is a Star, M243 Model Firestar Plus, 9mm, manufactured by Star Bonifacio Echeverria S.A. Eibar (Guipuzcoa), Spain. 
It is still new, never been shot. http://star-firearms.com/firearms/

"A double-stack 9mm version (M-243) ... was commonly referred to by the unofficial name "Firestar Plus". The Firestar was produced by the now defunct Star Bonifacio Echeverria, S.A. in Eibar, Spain until 1994. The Firestar was imported into the United States by Interarms of Alexandria, Virginia."  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Firestar_M43