Saturday, July 24, 2021

Sunday Muse --

 


Dolly Cried 


Why is that big tear 

Did I stick you with a pin 

Did I take you from your drink 

Did I take your toy away 


Please don't cry 

Is it something I have said 

Or something I haven't said 

Maybe something I have done 


Bigger than these 

Something I have not done 

Did I forget your birthday 

Or our anniversary 


When ladies cry 

Sorry if I made you cry 

I hate that, shouldn't happen 

(Tough being in the dog house) 


Dolly Cried 

 - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - For the Photo prompt I am linked with Shay, a.k.a. Fireblossom, at The Sunday Muse #170,  http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/07/the-sunday-muse-170.html?m=1 

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Wednesday, July 21, 2021

Weekly Scribblings -- Waystation


    A Monarch Waystation Garden 

Last spring's early happy sighting 
Group of scouts, Monarch butterflies 
Looking to find some Milkweed plants 
Twelve other varieties too 

Leaves to attach their fertile eggs 
Leaves for caterpillars to eat 
Flowers whose pollen insects love 
sustenance for the family 

Mating, baby growing ends,  
they're ready to go north or south 
North to stay cool, south to be warm 
A pleasant stay this stopover 

Seeing and knowing Nature's treat 
Sets folks planting flowers plants 
Where Monarchs recreate and play 
A Monarch Waystation Garden 

  - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021 
 - Reference, Monarch Butterfly, https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monarch_butterfly 
 - Photo and Reference, Build a Monarch Waystation, https://www.americanmeadows.com/blog/2016/06/17/how-to-create-a-monarch-waystation .  The NUMBERS in the picture above denote placement of 20 different named plants and flowers in this Website. 
 - Rommy has asked us to write poetry or prose using the word 'waystation' as inspiration.
 - We had planned to plant Milkweed seeds this spring but now that must wait for next year.  At least I hope we do.
 

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Saturday, July 17, 2021

Sunday Muse -- A New Life

 

To Paris 


She'd paid dearly for this seat

Was a "people mover man"

who came to her small village 

He'd move one or ten--pay him 


She'd start a new life, who knows 

Who knows what life brings to her 

Cheese and wine, a new romance 

Failed her first, this good for her 


Terrible rut she was in 

Sold by her man to some scum 

Virtual slave, she was cooked 

Two nights ago she escaped 


Took his money paid her fare 

Now with France's shore in sight 

Train ticket in her hand bag 

Paris two hours ahead 

 - - - 

 - Poem and Bottom  Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Carrie Van Horn with The Sunday Muse #169, at  http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/07/sunday-muse-169.html?m=1 

 - Book cover screen print, Amazon dot com, Victoria Brownlee

"Fromage à Trois: Paris. Love. Cheese." with a young lady going to Paris for a new start. (link)


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Shadow Shot

 

 Near Sunset 
At Jackson, TN
Photo © by Jimmiehov 2021
All Rights Reserved 

Again (before editing) 
At Jackson, TN 
Photo © by Jimmiehov 2021
All Rights Reserved 
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 _ _ _ _  

MMT hosts and has a pretty shadow photo for you to visit at 

She also has a link for you to post yours or find others to go see.
Also post or look at them, 
below, click Mr. Linky, 

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Tuesday, July 13, 2021

Weekly Scribblings -- Woo woo -- a Spine Poem



The Time Between

Light over London 
Lions of Fifth Avenue 
The Paris Seamstress 
  - - - - 
 - Poem and Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov  2021, All Rights Reserved 
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Saturday, July 10, 2021

Sunday Muse -- a "Man's Endeavor" poem

[photography by Artist, Jasper James]

A New Horizon 

A match 
we might say a mate 
is coming 
Coming to 
pair with the 
poor old man 
Man a million years old 

Trampled by man 
and beast 
weather elements 
hot and cold 
Natives tourists 
and other trespassers 
Damage 
one can only imagine 

[Wikipedia Photo]

Old Man of the Mountain 
a.k.a. 
Great Stone Face 
hold your breath,  
artists and engineers 
working modern day 
Miracles 

                [My photo, a TV shot of CBS this morning Saturday]

Discards, 
had become old and unsafe 
Old buildings
some skyscrapers 

Put to rest 
in, now for, this 
artist's dreams 
The tired and weak 
stacked side by side 
Safe on this mountain 
Close but not too close 
next to the "Old Man" 

A New Horizon 


 - - -  

 - Photo and NYC Photo Copywrite, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved
 - Linked to Carrie at The Sunday Muse #168 picture prompt for the top Photo by Jasper James at http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/07/sunday-muse-168.html?m=1 
 - Wikipedia information on the "Old Man of the Mountain located in New Hampshire" worked with my Muse for this writing.  
 - Also we had driven below this beautiful work of Mother Nature in November 2002 before it crumbled and portions fell to earth.
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     [Turned sideways, the same photography by Artist, Jasper James]
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Wednesday, July 07, 2021

Weekly Scribblings -- what is seen?

its mine 

It's mine the little one hollered 
My rich uncle gave it to me
For me to have all for myself 

These words he said to me to you 
Haha haha I've got it now 
Play in the dirt the sand is mine 

All mine to have go find your own 

 - - - 

arrogance learned; aged, carries on  

The fields are mine better than yours 
The trees the lands the factories too 
All toys for boys not sissie girls 

My skin is light that gives me rights 
Harvard I've been I have you've not  
Money for me go earn your own 

Your houses burned leave mine alone 

  - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with Rosemary in the Writer's Pantry for Weekly Scribblings #77 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/07/weekly-scribblings-77-boiling-over.html?m=1 
 - Rosemary has invited us to "create poetry or prose using Rob Kistner’s phrase “Human arrogance is boiling over” as inspiration. We aren’t required to use the actual words. But if we do, we should credit them to Rob on a footnote." 
 - I am using a Sevenling poem form which seemed to work for this writing (about the Sevenling poem form).

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Sunday, July 04, 2021

Shadow Shots -- Our neighbor's goodie

HAPPY JULY 4th DAY !!!

[Photos courtesy of Channel 2 TV Houston, Weather]


Surfside is a small town, west of Galveston (TX) about 60 miles and about 60 miles south of our house.  

Galveston beaches have parking lots but at Surfside the beach is undeveloped and goes for miles.  It is our favorite for beach retreats as we can camp from our car.  Galveston is a fun town and we go there if we wish to play more than just swimming and sunning. 

- - - - 

MY SHADOW SHOT 



This is my neighbor's car, a 2014 McClaren MP4-12C.  I haven't ridden in it YET.  Top speed is supposed be 207 mph but he has only had it up to 150 "briefly".
_ _ _ _  


She also has a link for you to post yours or find others to go see.
Also look at them here,

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Saturday, July 03, 2021

Sunday Muse -- What Now

 

A  Situation  


The boat is tired its crew has gone 

They left last week not to return 

Bottom's rotting water comes in 

That's my life now like it or not 

Just one long week were those last years 

Oars were stolen, tie chain rusting 


The fish remain waiting for net 

Eager fisher with a new boat 

 - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo prompt thanks to Carrie Van Horn, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/07/sunday-muse-167.html?m=1 

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Boat poems

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Wednesday, June 30, 2021

Weekly Scribblings -- A Blinkety Blank Writing


Romancing in the parlor, on the couch 
The house was dark, quiet after the storm 
Power was lost, no big matter to them 
They'd be alone until after Sun's light 

Time past, some sleep was had, and lots of talk 
Getting to know each other, midnight kiss 
With time on their hands--then curtain was drawn 
Shuffling of furniture, snicker was heard 

Act II, enter man in starched uniform 
Not in her bed but sleeping on the couch 
Why?  Suspecting out of her ordinary 
Irked.  Though words not used, he had felt a bond 

Comes the butler, mixed feelings in his mind 
An end to this foolishness he must put 
Drawing a blank was his no-luck downfall 
Pulled the little Beretta's trigger back 

Loud bang from the gun, paper wads fell 
Audience didn't know, screamed with fear 
The heroin lurched up, fell to the floor 
Five minutes, police had butler's arrest 
 
I was the butler, butlers always lose 
And the curtain was pulled-- Applause, applause 
 _ _ _ 

 - Poem and Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021 and 2006, All Rights Reserved 
 - I 'm linked with Rommy for the prompt, the word "Blank" with an accompanying modifier word, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/06/weekly-scribblings-76-writing-blank.html
 - Rommy invited us, "write on Drawing a blank / Blank slate / Blank space / ‘Blank’et statement. (You can change the tense or make it plural, but please include some form of one of these phrases in your piece.)"
 - BTW, I was the Butler in our play when I was in the highest grade of my country two-room school, it only went to ten, and we had three in our graduating class. Shhhh! I did go on for two more years at a town school. ..
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Saturday, June 26, 2021

Sunday Muse -- The wrong train 



Feelings 

Ever feel like you took the wrong train 
My train is going to Panama 
My ticket says "California" 
I'm riding on the unhooked caboose 

It's caught on fire burning at the rear 
Feel I'm not long for this crazy world 
Can't see behind, mirrors smoked gone blind 
Fire burns faster caboose on the loose  

Bear's plight as well, I ate it last night  
Happens often we're extinction bound 
 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 
 - Photo prompt posted by Carrie Van Horn with The Sunday Muse #166,  at http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/06/sunday-muse-166.html?m=1 

 - I had started another poem to post but got off track of a thorough and fairly quick to my intended ending.  I hadn't made up my mind either at to it's tense.  
 - My short replacement poem is is here, 
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Shadow Shots -- Younger Trees and Turtles

My Shadow Shot
            [click on picture once or twice for larger sized views]

This is a park like flood control area.  Walking trail sidewalks go all along both sides, several miles long it weaves through our neighborhood.  Two blocks away our street ends at what you are seeing.

Please note the Herons fishing along the water's banks.  

Also the many Turtles swimming nearby and more still farther up the Trail sunning on the bank. 

Unfortunately most of the wildlife did not survive our freak for Southeast Texas hard winter freeze.

          None-Shadow Shot pictures


A Favorite:  "Meet Me at the Bridge; but after 'Social Distancing' is over"



Reflections: "Meeting at the Bridge," the turtle gathering place.  But on this walk we had nothing for them.  Must needs go to the Feed Store again.
_ _ _ _  

MMT is hosting at Shadow Shots,   https://magicalmysticalteacher.wordpress.com/2021/06/26/shadow-shot-sunday-2-a-bit-of-shade/ where you can see his tall tree for today.  

He also has a link for you to post yours or find others to go see.
Also look at them here, 

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Wednesday, June 23, 2021

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

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Saturday, June 19, 2021

Sunday Muse -- Good Marriage


 
The Mainstay 


Body guards and chauffeurs 

Became her way of life 

Decided that way back 

Back when she got The Cat 


An Arabian prince 

Owned One Sixty acres 

Oil wells, refineries 

The Cat, he and she merged 


When The Cat married her 

She was Wife Number Three 

(Not the dread Number Four) 

Family Mainstay became 


Revered by all the clan 

And treated royally 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo writing prompt given by Fireblossom, a.k.a. Shay, at the Sunday Muse #165http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/06/sunday-muse-165.html?m=1 

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Shadow Shot Sunday: Picnic Tables and Trees


October 3, 2019, in South Africa outside Cape Town, we were invited to a picnic lunch at a winery.  The food was super, a five course lunch, but forgettable.  Guess I  should  have looked at the other pictures for a hint. 


To link your shadow shot or find others posting, click on the Mister Linky icon below:

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Wednesday, June 16, 2021

Weekly Scribblings -- Remember this one? Sure!!

 

                The Cow 

Hey diddle diddle cat and fiddle 
That's an earworm I couldn't get rid of 
Sang it day and night without giggle 

Started the night, rockets on my rear 
Headlines told, Cow jumped over the moon 
That was a thrill to me, almost swooned 

My little dog growled at first, 
But then he laughed at the fun I had 
Going to the moon not yet a fad  

Kitchen suffered loss from fright's pay day
Dishes and spoons, they all ran away  
Never got found, cat and dog grew crazed 

Earworm still warm?   I gave it away 
To cousin of Mark Twain's Passenjare ** 

** Mark Twain, poem, Punch Brothers, Punch;
"A Literary Nightmare" is a short story written by Mark Twain in 1876. The story is about Twain's ... removing the jingle from his mind.  
  _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with Magaly Guerrero at the Weekly Scribblings #74, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/06/weekly-scribblings-74-painted-tales.html?m=1

The Nursery Rhyme,
Hey, diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the moon
The little dog laughed to see such fun
And the dish ran away with the spoon 
       By Mother Goose

 _ _ _ _ 

I had wanted to write of one of Henri Lautrec's characters but time was against me and I wrote this little snippet instead and worked harder on the Cow poem above.

[drawing by Henri Lautrec]

I am the clown 


I am having a gazillion goblets of fun 


I am Georges Footit, a white-faced clown, owner,  narrator, and producer of the dog and pony show.  We can be found in Tent 203 of our circus during non-show times, and in the center ring halfway through the main production.


I was born in the mind of my maker, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, more generally known as Henri Lautrec.  We've been together for seventeen years.


My pony's name is Kelley, she's a miniature white horse.   The dog is Shep, always Shep.  Most time she is dressed as a baby yellow lion. Neither will bite although Shep pretends she is doing that. 


One day as we were walking Shep started to growl and began to dig at the bushes near us.  I tried to get her to come away but nothing doing.


We called the police and when they came a man wearing a bandana mask crawled out from the bushes.  A short search found his gun under a rock.  It was loaded and cocked, ready to shoot.  


But the crook didn't shoot dogs, he loved them like his own kids (who hated him and his ways).  The crook's name was Harri and Mr. Lautrec said he could join our little act. 

  from, as background reference,

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec - The famous draftsman

The Circus


"One day early in March 1899 Lautrec awoke from the intoxication extolled in Baudelaire's poem to find himself in an unfamiliar room. The door was padlocked and the windows barred, and a male nurse kept watch over him. He was, in fact, in the Folie-Saint-James, at 16 Avenue de Madrid , Neuilly, near the Bois de Boulogne, a beautiful eighteenth-century mansion situated in the middle of a large park, which had been transformed into a retreat for the mentally sick. 

"He had decided that he should prepare an album of works on the theme of the circus, which his friend, Joyant would then publish. This plan had one great tactical advantage: one of the symptoms of Lautrec's illness, was his loss of memory. If Lautrec were able to recall in precise detail the most famous circus attractions of the previous twenty years, the psychiatrists would surely be obliged to admit that they had been mistaken in their diagnosis. 

"In his circus drawings Lautrec captured the comedy and pathos of the situations as well as their movement, sound and color. In the circus world Lautrec's favorite model was Georges Footit, a white-faced clown (image left). 

And after these drawings the specialist: patient quite calm, could undoubtedly be maintained, but ... Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec was still sick ..." 

  found (go read some more of Henri's life in relation to his art) at http://www.vangoghreproductions.com/gogh-friends/toulouse-lautrec.html 

Henri Lautrec was born at Albi, France.  below is our son standing near the entrance to the museum which holds many of Lautrec's drawings and paintings.  
Read more of Henri in the link above and read of our Holiday tour here,  


[large picture] [super sized] [click on any picture to get the large size]
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Saturday, June 12, 2021

Now We Remember


Storing up trouble 


When the lights go out 

Tell the truth, shame the Devil

The forgotten sister 


The forgotten sister 

Tell the truth, shame the Devil 

When the lights go out 

_ _ _  

Photo and Poem Copyright,  Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

I am linked with Rosemary in the Writer's Pantry #74,  at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/06/writers-pantry-74-words-words-glorious.html?m=1

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Sunday Muse -- Things to Come?

 


The find 

Steady hands that rainy morn 
A precious find, liquid gold 
Nothing sweet could be better 
Lest it be a scrap of fish 

First his tongue would rim the bowl 
A sample of what to come 
Nectar from the night before 
Lovely ladies celebrate 

Next would be his,  feasting turn 
Sample of their night before 
Asparagus pickled beets 
Filet mignon, Sauvignon  

Dessert of dreams his small bowl  
Tastiest find since he'd left 
Sunday morning dumpster dive 
 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

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