a Poem for National Handwriting Day

Count the keys on this LARGE PRINT typewriter pictured above.

Writing Mechanics 103

 

Handwriting

I let my machine, a Dell, write for me  
That way people can read what I want to say  

 Simple writing. drawing, and coloring,

all are hand and coordination skills,

mundane, take practice, I color the best

But it's the thought to be conveyed that counts

Spelling

I spell better than my spell checker does  

Now mine is a belligerent speller,

always wanting to exhibit the new,

variations of our oft used familiar words  

Shut it off I won't, never will happen

cause I've retired my old Mr. Webster

 

Onto paper
 

Down deep I'm a clever guy, so I think

But my thoughts must surface to allure you,  

telling what's in my heart, for your pleasure 

One-room school vocabulary comes out;

paper though there is none, fingers to keys,
all into the machine and on to yours

(Tidbit:  why do we still call it "writing") 
_ _ _ _ 

.  
Photo and Poem Copyright, © 2012 and 2018 Jimmiehov respectively, All Rights Reserved

 - Photo, Large Print Typewriter taken by me, previously posted on my other blog in various places, beginning around year 2012. http://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/search?q=typewriter 
 _I'm linked with Magaly Guerrero at the Imaginary Garden, The Tuesday Platform, where she is encouraging us to write for our National Handwriting Day (today), at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/01/the-tuesday-platform_23.html 

Fallen in a hole? ~~ a Poem for Sunday

Have You Ever

Has anyone ask you, "Have you ever ...?"
Most times embarrassing to say the least

Fallen in a hole, stuck, couldn't get out?
"Well, yes, there was that one time, Army time
We were out on bivouac, night compass test
Released on a prairie hill, no moonlight"

"Did I return to camp, finding my way?
Not exactly, the compass didn't show
Didn't show the lovely creek, hill's bottom
I knew it was there, follow it to camp"

"Problem was, I didn't plan, compass failed
Failed to show the steep crevasse in its bank
Down into the fissure I went, fell hard
No one near to hear my cries, cries for help"

"Thoughts aplenty came and went, coyotes howled
Hours later moon came out, I could see
The cleft was steep, no way could I climb out
Bullhorn called my name, I called 'Over here!'"

Buddies still ask, teasingly, of my fall
Of the chasm, abyss, the crack; how deep
"Once but no more, a typewriter's for me"

Typewriter photo copyright 2012 (Link),
Gateway computer photo copyright 2008 (Link), and
Poem Copyright © 2016 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

I am linked with the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads,
 to   Outlawyer (a.k.a. "K" or Karin) at Weekend Mini-Challenge - Trying "No More" ; and
 to   Kerry O'Connor  at Kerry Says ~ Let's Visit the Family

 - Outlawyer wants to us write a poem with a theme or subtheme of "No More" while
 - Kerry wants us to use a "word family, could be such as one finds in a Thesaurus, namely synonyms and antonyms (Those more or less fortunate cousins and prodigal siblings)."

I used a family of synonyms for the word 'Crevasse'.  My words within the poem are in Red Italacs. 

synonyms:

chasm, abyss, fissure, cleft, crack, split, breach, rift, hole, cavity "loose rocks fell into the crevasse" (reference Google. Search 'crevasse synonym')

Note:  Much of this tale is true or nearly true.  I never ever used a compass again in the Army and they did give me a typewriter as a "Clerk Typist" MOS.
 

Photo from a book store - and a Poem for Friday Writings

You can count the keys on this LARGE PRINT typewriter pictured.
Please also note that it is a manual and not electric.
"Typewriter" posts, http://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/search?q=typewriter

  Words we speak 

"If I had my choice, I probably would've 

gotten married in my twenties, 

had three kids, and never left my hometown.  

Sometimes life doesn't work out the way 

we wish it would." 

Words were spoken like I've heard before

'I won't ever marry a man, and when I have 

children I'll teach them to not marry either.'  

Thus sayeth a senior girl in my typing class 

(I and one other were the only boys enrolled) 

which shocked a farm boy like me. 

Later I read in the paper when the girl above 

had married that summer a fellow who drove 

a batch truck for the paving gang making the 

new highway to a neighboring town.  

Later still, I read of the birth that fall of a baby 

boy to the couple.  

The author of the book from which I quoted, 

then married, did have a child, at the age 

of forty-two.  

Things don't often, seldom, work out like 

our plans.  

I didn't plan things, never did.  Instead when 

there is an open door of opportunity I evaluate 

choices and most often have taken the good ones. 

 

I ended up not rich but have retired well enough 

off to have retired many years now. All my 

degrees aren't helping me now but they did produce 

quite well. 

Moral of the story from my book, the author 

was telling, "God has a plan for us" and it may 

differ greatly from our own. 

_ _ _

Notes:

1. The book I'm reading is “Mostly What God Does”

written by Savannah Guthrie. The words I have used here

are to be found in Chapter 4, titled “Like a Mother”.

2. My “Prose Poem” has 290 words not counting the title 

but counting the author's quotation from the book. 

_ _ _ 

- Writing Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024, All rights reserved 

-  I am linked with Magaly at Friday Writings #130 at 

  https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/ 

..

One Single Impression: Inbox

.

.

...
I n b o x

Dad's inbox was full
nine letters to write
fifty-five to read
how did he ever?

My inbox is full
fifty thousand plus
e-mails here to cull
how will I ever?

Catching up is hard
some say can't be done
Dad lit a fire
I used the 'delete'

Two generations
apart by the years
harm done is trifling
we did what it took
.

- - - - - -

You can count the keys on this LARGE PRINT typewriter pictured below.
Please also note that it is a manual and not electric.

- - - - - -

Photo and Poem Copyright
© 2012 Jimmiehov
All Rights Reserved

- - - -

The prompt word this week is "Transition" suggested by Teri Casper
of Teri's Mandala Poetry

For more poems using this prompt word please go to One Single Impression

Charlie and Tiger - a Quadrille Poem for dVerse

              Danny's Cat 

[Today is International Cat Day]

She's not my type 

Shaking head, Charlie Cat 

Yoke chrome stripes shine 

Walking near, Ms. Tiger

She's more my kind 

Pillow King , Charlie thought 

Purrs smiles and grins 

He's alright, Tiger's high 

Got close to him 

Rubbed his neck, Charlie purred 

Tiger and Charlie click 

  _ _ _ 

Lagniappe for you 

See my large type typewriter 

Five of them  Ryght here

_ _ _ 

 

- Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022 

 - I am linked with whimsygizmo at dVerse Quadrille #159, 

https://dversepoets.com/2022/08/08/quadrille-157-whats-your-type/

 - A 44-word poem using the word "type" was the asking. 

 - Read some others doing this here,

https://www.blenza.com/linkies/links.php?owner=dversepoets&postid=05Aug2022&meme=12540 

..

Large print typewriter -- Wordless Wednesday # 043

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wordless wednesday Kids Antiques Humor

Where I am ~~ Saturday Poem

  Count the keys on this LARGE PRINT typewriter pictured above.
Please also note that it is a manual and not electric.

Where am I

Like a celebrity I've been asked to tell

where and what I do when I write

So tell you what, it isn't always easy

Its mostly where I be or there at the

breakfast room table. Lots of variations

and iterations to tell here.

This I'm wriing sitting in my recliner

Also watching. Houston my alma mater on TV

They're playing football, slightly ahead

Yesterday I wrote at midnight on the edge of

my bed. TV was on with "Murder she wrote"

Come morning I prettied it up at the table

Other times I just post what I wrote then

and there, at church, riding in the car, or

out on the porch. Later pretty plus picture

Not real exciting or emotional here, just it

Let you know how my team does, still ahead

_ _ _ _

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2012 (link) and 2018, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with Toni Spencer in the Imaginary Garden at https://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/10/dont-touch-my-meez.html?m=1

Snowy night car play - μ Poetry, a tinge of e e cummings

Up the street from the Blair (Nebraska) MacDonald's on a snowy December morning

snowflakes lighting on
moscow streets gives inklings of
stay-at-home evening

 
highway's run move them
off the streets дорогие полиции 
please dear politsii
 
make space for us
skillful drivers midnight boys
snowy night street racers 
 
(now a refrain, e e cumming style)
 
ma
k
e
 
s . . p
a
. . c
. e
 
f
. o
. . r
 
. . . r
. . a
. c
e
. r
. . s
_ _ _ _
. - Photo (s) and Poem Copyright © 2013, 2016, and 2016 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 .- I'm linked with Kerry O'Connor to her post, one this snowflake ~ Micro Poetry
bearing in mind a short poem, 10 lines or less  and "You may choose your own form or stick to free verse, if preferred."  Also it may relate to the e e cummings "'one this snowflake' angle" of his poem, perhaps his own way of writing Haiku poetry (link1)(link2)(link3-Wikipedia)
 .- I have ten lines, the last being a 'refrain' in e e cummings style typewriter skewed form, with my first nine in Haiku/Senryū form.  
 .- When visiting Moscow in 2006 we spent three days and three nights (sleeping on our river cruise boat) there.  The first day it did snow some, the next day with some accumulation the drivers didn't seem to mind.