Sunday Muse Story --- The Dance
Labels: Love Poem, Love Story, Prose, Story, Sunday Muse
Feel free to look around in this blog. What you see is what you get. What you saw yesterday may not be here today. All logos, trademarks and content in this site are property of their respective owners. Posts and comments are the property of their posters. However I reserve the right to remove any and all of said items. All else, poems and other writing and photographs taken by Jim are © Copyright 2005-2020 by jimmiehov ( jhovendic@yahoo.com ).
Labels: Love Poem, Love Story, Prose, Story, Sunday Muse
Photo mine, Copyright,
Jimmiehov 2018 (link)
Poem, "Landscape" by Mary Oliver (link)
_ _ _
Would We Listen
If our Mother Nature could speak
Then I know some tales that she'd tell
Miraculously made beauty
Eons or Big Bang creation
For you for me hard to believe
Families, campers, hikers, climbers
For what ever reason they come
Most will not be disappointed
Those visitors must please her much
If she could tell would we listen
The trees would sing wind in their tops
They'd sing of rabbits nibbling near
Deer rubbing antlers on tree trunks
Flowers below colors so bright
Yellow, violet, orange and red
Dismal scenes though, thieves and dozers
Axes and saws, plows and mowers
Houses offices parking lots,
Resident animals hunted
Lakes polluted water taken
Remember Indigenous folk
Their reverence did well for them
We moved them off, reservations
We are guardian of all this
How well are we doing our job
_ _ _
Mary Oliver had a love for Nature and spent untold hours enjoying being in it and writing about it. She was one of America's favorite poets. She died January 17, 2019.
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- Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2018 and 2021, All Rights Reserved.
- I am linked with Rosemary at Weekly Scribblings # 52, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/01/weekly-scribblings-52-something-about.html, for Mary Oliver's poem, "Landscape".
Labels: Poem, Weekly Scribbling 21
[My Friend's 1934 Ford Coupe*]
I'm Outa Here
-> Notes:
* For more about our racing effort and this car, click here . Our car looked like the coupe above with the fenders cut back to about three inches, the running boards and headlights removed for safety, and stronger bumpers. Our racing car number, 88, was painted on the doors and on the trunk lid.
** My three jobs were 40 hours in a watch factory, working part time at a Car Park Garage, and Saturday nights stuffing the ads into the Sunday Lincoln Journal comics. Eleven years later I went back to school and was awarded three degrees by going ten more years mostly night school while working.
*** Unlike the youth today, I didn't continue stoplight racing for over half a block, except out on the new Interstate Highway which was soon to open.
-> On the first Weekly Scribblings of the new year (Jan 6 2021), Magaly will invite us to revisit our Weekly Scribblings selection, and write new poetry or prose using one of our 2020 prompts. Please add the title (and link, if you can) of your chosen prompt to your post. Don’t feel like searching? No problem. Here are some nice choices:
1. Weekly Scribblings #43: Found Poems and Erasures
2. Weekly Scribblings #40: Walking Away
3. Weekly Scribblings #35: The Joy of Rest
4. Weekly Scribblings #31: What Makes You Smile?
5. Weekly Scribblings #28: Seeing Things
6. Weekly Scribblings #25: Well, That Was Unexpected
7. Weekly Scribblings #22: It Takes a Bit of Discipline
8. Weekly Scribblings #10: Early Bird or Night Owl?
9. Weekly Scribblings #9: Contagion
Labels: Cars, Poem, Story, Story Poem, True, Weekly Scribbling
Time's Way
Ten thirteen o three was her time
She wished she had gone digital
Flowing hair covered hidden clock face
Plus digitals need no winding
Worrying won't be of help now
Perhaps better off the mantle
Visitors gagging on their thoughts
Nice urn for ashes would have worked
Taxidermists getting richer
_ _ _
- Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved
- Photo link, Carrie Van Horn at Sunday Muse # 141, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/01/sunday-muse-141.html?m=1
Labels: Holiday Posts, Poem, Rhyme, Sunday Muse, Syllabic Form
She writes at night, generally late
Kids are in bed it's after eight
Most times it's way later than that
Hubby and she, in bed may spat
Then when all is settled and calm
She peeks at what she's jotted down
May make sense, often foolishness
Ideas may come, she's still dressed
Have a smoke while yet in her head
Compile her thoughts sits on the bed
Close her eyes to think, she will nod
Hot fingers are her wakeup prod
Quickly she dresses for the bed
With the pillow temping her head
Eyes quickly close, bed's her night's home
Finish tomorrow, a song or a poem
_ _ _
Note: This poem is not about Laura Nyro, rather is about a hypothetical writer much of the like I am. Many of my writings are done with me sitting on the edge of the bed, way often after midnight. I'm generally have my P.J's on.
_ _ _
- Poem Copyright, Jimmyhov 2020, All Rights Reserved
- I am linked with Fireblossom for the Picture inspirational prompt, the Sunday Muse # 139, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/12/sunday-muse-139.html?m=1
Labels: Humor(?), Poem, Rhyme, Story, Story Poem, Sunday Muse
My Bones
Down in my bones I feel the ants crawling
They're all sorts of colors, bakers candy
Dots they're always running like in a race
Race they'll alwsys lose to racer back hogs
Down in my bones, I feel those racer backs
Feeling I'd like never ever to stop
And so when they think I might be tiring
They squeel, oink oink oink, like they're calling cows
Down in my bones I feel the cows running
They come running, got to see what's to eat
Heads between braces, mind not stanchion locks
Eat oats and hay ahead of the horses
Down in my bones I feel pounding horse hooves
They eat everything in sight don't gain weight
One can ride them all day until they tire
Tired they let down their guard scabies enter
Down in my bones I feel scabies chewing
They chew my skin, drink my blood, gnaw my bones
Killing them is a science--must be done
Better crawling ants out than scabies in
_ _ _
- Poem and Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
- I am linked for prompt inspiration with Rommy at Weekly Scribblings # 50, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1
- Rommy wantd us “to think about how we might finish this sentence, ‘Down in my bones, I feel ______________’. If you’d rather tackle this from a different angle, you also have the option to write about bones in general. It also isn’t necessary to use the exact phrasing. But you can, if you want to."
Take Note
Are you a note taker?
A note believer I am
First day lectures I say
To my class, "Take Good Notes
Your Tests will be over
the stuff you need to know
If it's in your text book
and what I say in class
but not my corny jokes
All I say you jot down
After class rearrange
Make a study outline
Fill in holes, stuff you missed
and things from your book that
were not covered in class
Now make a shortened one
Study what you don't know
Review in your spare time
Every student I've had
Who made an "A" took notes"
- You are welcome to visit my Seasonal Posts on "jim's little Christmas tree farm" blog. https://jimmiehov7.blogspot.com/?m=1
_ _ _
- Poem and Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
- I am linked with Writers’ Pantry #50, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/12/writers-pantry-50-how-do-you-take-your.html
- This is true, I told the above to every class I taught at San Jacinto College, Business Law, Entrepreneurship, and Intro to Business.
- Please excuse the photo for having a U of H sticker. I have an Associate Degree from San Jac and two others from the University of Houston. All three attained while working full time at NASA Houston.
Labels: Poem, Stuff to know, Writer's Pantry
Not the Best of Days
Not real smooth today
She missed her alarm
Set it to "Snooze" but ...
Skipped her breakfast 'cause
The dog burned the eggs
Then ate the biscuits
Flat tire on her car
She had to call Jeb
He was her friend not
Where they parked was bad
Had to park in mud
Jeb's no Sir Raleigh
There she lost a shoe
In the mud some place
Late bell was ringing
Were things better now
Team cheering for her
Run, run, one shoe gone
Morning was ho hum
Only six mistakes
Noon, get her hair done
Let's change it to blonde
I've new goopy bleach
You can try it free
When lights came back on
'Twas seen, bleach wash-out
Her hair a sick white
We can save the day
We'll frize just one side
- You are welcome to visit my Seasonal Posts on "jim's little Christmas tree farm" blog. https://jimmiehov7.blogspot.com/?m=1
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- Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
- Photo prompt suggestion by Carrie Van Horn at The Sunday Muse # 138, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/12/sunday-muse-138.html?m=1
Labels: Humor, Poem, Story, Story Poem, Sunday Muse
Tiger Growls or Roars
Far tiger weirdly
growls or roars
Tiger ruler
from Afrikar
Dare our creature
saunter our trail
Trace tracks near our
residence. Grrrrrr !
Surprise surprise
tiger's our friend
(My Christmas Tree blog updates about twice a week, http://jimmiehov7.blogspot.com/?m=0 )
_ _ _
- Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
- I'm linked with Rosemary for Photo and Prompt at the Weekly Scribblings # 49, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/12/weekly-scribblings-49-b-c-d-e-f-g.html?m=1
- Rosemary asked us ro choose a letter and use it often. Please read the self history she wrote of her experiences with letters and her learning and use of them .
- I chose the letter "R" and used it 43 times in my 10 four syllable lines and the title. Every word has at least one letter "R". I did take a few liberties with my use.
Labels: Animals, Humor(?), Poem, Syllabic Form, Weekly Scribbling
Needs of an abandoned home
Order me a bucket of paint
And a quart of wood stain
Make my house look so nice
Some pink gingham curtains
Shades to pull keep out the bright sun
Rugs beds and furniture
Air conditioner and stove
Food in the pantry
Soup cereal flour
Coffee and sugar
That'll start us a home
Or I'll stay here alone
Sleep in the corner
Under some blankets from my cart
That I found by the road
Then I'll keep warm
If, until, when you come
_ _ _ _
- Poem and Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020 and 2010, All Rights Reserved
- I'm linked with the Sunday Muse # 137 for the top Photo Inspiration, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/12/sunday-muse-137.html?m=1
Labels: Poem, prose poem, Weekly Scribbling
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
Labels: Fish, Humor(?), Poem, Story, Story Poem, Syllabic Form