Thursday, December 02, 2021

Friday Writings -- a (strong) secondary character point of view

(Door Knock) 

I am the Raven 
in a Poem named after me 
I co-star in Mr. Poe's best seller 

in that setting I was a pest at first 
but soon I became her bosom friend 

even so she never really understood me 
she thought she did, read it yourself, you'll see 

she lost her lover and that was her end 
going bat batty trying for more 

knocks on her Chamber Door 
but "Quoth (me,) Raven


but I'll remain 
above her Chamber Door 

haunting her always 
for some more

- - - 
Note:  I have activated my "jim's little Christmas Tree farm" blog posting for this season.  Click this label,  , to have a peek and monitor my progress. 

It has directions to send me a picture of your tree or decorations if you wish.

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with Rommy at Friday Writings #5 for the prompt idea, she would like for us "to write poetry or prose from the point of view of a secondary character in a story (book, movie, TV show…)",
 - Edgar Allen Poe's poem, "The Raven", can be read here, 

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Sunday, November 28, 2021

Sunday Muse - 'tsup?

Aloof ?

I had smiled ...
(are you stuck up?) 
Are you afraid (of my ... 
purposes or motives?) 

It's just me, I smile a lot 
I meant no harm 

But that's okay 
I'm on row eight 
by the window 
Come chat a spell 
if you're lonesome 

Or say hello 
(a bit prissy)
(think I'll like her)
(hope she likes me)
- - - 
 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 
 - I'm linked with Carrie for the Photo Prompt at The Sunday Muse #188,  

Friday, November 26, 2021

Friday Writings - Pain is . . .



Edith was a girl we all liked 

She has loved chocolate all her life 

A girl who didn't hesitate 

Who always your last bite she ate 

Edith was a girl all were proud 

Mom Dad most,  Grandparents count 

She didn't cuss or kiss the boys 

And helped the little kids play toys 

That was Edith we remember 

To college she went, goodbye her 

Pleasant and eager the school's gain 

Sadly our loss has been our pain 

 - - - 

Pains in your life can come and go and some are here to stay.  They seem to vary in intensity with age, cause and treatment. 

Let me tell you of one of the pains in my life.  After your read you may have guessed more but I think not. 

     An Acrostic:  


P ain in the butt 

A lways it hurts 

I s hard to soothe 

N ever pleasant 

I 'm embarrassed 

N o way I tell 

T elling's stupid 

H ere's to silence 

E ver a day 

B ackside is red 

U nder side too 

T elltale bruises 

T hat kick did leave 

 - - - 

When I was around twelve years old a work horse of Dad's kicked me in the back.  Doctor L. made a house call and had me lay on my stomach for a week.  It was terrible pain. 

 - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - Suggested prompt by Magaly of the Friday Writings team, 

 - Magaly would like us to write poetry or prose that explores pain. 

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Saturday, November 20, 2021

Sunday Muse - Will I open?

    The door is locked  

I have the key the door is locked 
You can't come in without the word 
Your magic word I'll turn the key 
Works better than cupid's arrow 

You know the word don't say in vain 
Please, want it seriously said 
When I know you really mean it 
I'll turn my key, open the door 

Door to my heart and shoot your dart 
Let Cupid's Arrow sting my heart 

      "Cupid's Arrow" Artwork by Jimmiehov 2021

  - - - 

 - Poem and bottom Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved  
 - Photo Prompt furnished by Carrie at The Sunday Muse #187  , 
 - The heart and arrow drawing in  the "Cupid's Arrow" is on a picture of a piece of paper that I have been carrying in my Bible almost ever since we were married, 48+ years ago.

 - A song similar to my ditty:  

    Bob Dylan - "Is Your Love in Vain?" (Official Audio)  
Official audio for "Is Your Love in Vain?" by Bob Dylan Listen to Bob Dylan:

 Lyrics (sing along?) --

    Is Your Love in Vain?

Do you love me 
Or are you just extending good will? 
Do you need me half as bad as you say 
Or are you just feeling guilt? 

I've been burned before and I know the score 
So you won't hear me complain 
Will I be able to count on you 
Or is your love in vain? 

Are you so fast that you cannot see 
That I must have solitude? 
When I am in the darkness 
Why must you intrude? 

Do you know my world, do you know my kind 
Or must I explain? 
Will you let me be myself 
Or is your love in vain? 

Well, I've been to the mountain and I've been in the wind 
I've been in and out of happiness 
I have dined with kings, I've been offered wings 
And I've never been too impressed 

All right, I'll take a chance 
I will fall in love with you 
If I'm a fool you can have the night 
You can have the morning too 

Can you cook and sew, make flowers grow 
Do you understand my pain? 
Are you willing to risk it all 
Or is your love in vain? 

Can you cook and sew, make flowers grow 
Do you understand my pain? 
Are you willing to risk it all 
Or is your love in vain? 

Thank you 

Source: Musixmatch 

Songwriters: Robert Dylan Is Your Love in Vain? 

lyrics © Universal Tunes 

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Friday, November 19, 2021

Friday Writings - an Allegorical Poem

    "Don't judge a book by its cover"** 
book with a face that tells a lie 
must examine to its fullest 
horse's mouth look him in the teeth 

is it a book of fiction tales 
book of fables, nursery rhymes 
beauty lies in deceit and smiles 

delights we like breaking the rules 
those bad pennies come back to haunt 
battle scared covers bled for naught?

listen to your heart, it's your call 

         (and a Senryū)*** 

Book of the Dead 

Truth behind the lie 
The secret of me and you 
Shakespeare for the squirrels 

(My book runneth over) 

Two hunters sitting 
  in a duck blind:  

 "M.R. Ducks." 
 "M.R. Not Ducks." 
 "O.S.A.R. C.M. Wangs?"   
 "L.I.B! M.R. Ducks."  

I fail to see any value whatsoever about the above conversation which has gone ballistic years ago and still lives. [a Joke or a Poem, google doesn't know either (URL)]
- - - 
 - Poem and Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved
 - I am linked with Rosemary for the prompt described below on the Friday Writings website, 
 - Rosemary has invited us to "reinterpret a well-known saying."  I picked this one from a googled list, "Don't judge a book by its cover.  You can visit her instructions by going to the link above, also you can visit others who have posted their writings and recorded them at the bottom of her post. 
 - Notes:
    ** My answer to Rosemary's request was "Don't judge a book by its cover" which saying is my writing's title.
     *** The final Senryū I composed at our public library as a "Spine Poem" using the titles of four books found on their bindings spines.  I have not read any of them although I am thinking about checking the bottom book out to read.  

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Saturday, November 13, 2021

Sunday Muse - My Thing

I was born of a flapper mom 

grew up in airy rumble seats 
and behind stage curtains sagging 
candy whiskey milk were my foods 
candy fed my sweetness the day 
whiskey kept me wild every night 
mama said milk was good for bones 

mama married cute stage hand young 
I was their tagalong kid but 
they split never saw him again 

growing kid I didn't know where 
and really that why would I care 
back of my mind don't marry young 

mom my idol wished I were her 
bought a bible  for me to read 
just didn't want to marry young 

didn't do that now on the stage 
my kid she eats chicken nuggets 
with her milk while I'm on the stage 

new orleans bourbon street perform 
"preacher lady from bowery" 

 - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 
 - - - Photo prompt from Shay,  a.k.a. Fireblossom, at Sunday Muse #186, , read about this lady, a Louise Brooks look alike, there.

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Friday, November 12, 2021

Friday Write - High School Stuff

[Our new Badge for our "Friday Writings" entries.  Designed by Magaly]

  English 10 

English 10 for my senior year 

Tenth grade teacher ordered wrong books 

My grade twelve I sat with sophomores 

Intense grammar, composition 

First year for teaching 

was "Miss P"  

I was her pet, suited me fine 

What I remembered wasn't much,  

"if I chewed gum then give her some" 

Infatuation was not shown 

Four years older than me her pet 

But did I learn what I was taught

College Comp 1 and 2--comped out 

 - - - 

 - Prose Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021. All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Rommy for the inspiration hint, see below, at the Friday Writings #2, at 

 - Rommy has suggested that we use a subject studied in school as inspiration, tickle our Muse, for writing this week.  I liked them all except for Math Statistics which needed a better refreshing of my Calculus.  

 - I chose Sophomore English which was delightful to me.  In college most of my writing papers received an "A", "B" was the lowest paper grade I received.

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Saturday, November 06, 2021

Sunday Muse - a Broken Glass

    Had enough 

Her glass was empty 

It would hold no more 

Crushed beyond repair 

She'd been done so wrong 

She will recover 

First she'll walk away 

And find sincere love 

Who will do her right 

Her heart's a cupboard 

Full of glasses fresh 

 - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - I'm linked with Carrie for the Photo Prompt at the Sunday Muse # 185,

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Friday, November 05, 2021

Friday Write - a Garden to Love

 Grandmother's Garden 

When I was a growing boy 
And my Grandma'd go to town 
I'd sneak into her garden 
Like a hungry rabbit comes 

There a yummy meal I'd find 
Red ripe tomatoes for me 
Carrots, orange rabbit food 
Strawberries sweet saved for last   

Thought she didn't know, she did  
Now Grandma's gone through the sky 
Heaven's garden vines she grows
Food for Angel's supper time 

 - - - 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with Magaly for her Prompt Inspiration about Food and Eating (read her desires NEXT BELOW) at the first installment of "Friday Writings #1" at
 - For our first Friday promptMagaly would like us to "write poetry or prose about food: cooking it, eating it, sharing it, craving it, dreaming of it … the choice is yours."

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Sunday, October 31, 2021

Sunday Muse -- Barbeque Day


Thy word is a lamp unto my  feet, 
and a light unto my path. 
Psalm 119 verse 105 (KJV) 

Today I went to church 
The sermon was on Love 

the kind at weddings they tell** 
Then we went to eat with friends 
Had barbeque, Texas style 

I ate like a little pig 
Glad the preacher didn't preach 
on Gluttony, I would flunk 

** would be the Bible again 
   1st Corinthians 13 
 - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with Carrie at The Sunday Muse #184 for the Photo Prompt,  ,   
 - On Wednesday, November 23, I also linked to Rosemary at Poetry Pantry, for its last Sunday publication. 

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Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Weekly Scribblings - What if's today - Do it again?

This will be my last "Weekly Scribblings" post as it's sponsors are merging it with another posting on another day.  I may rejoin the enjoyment of reading and writing poems there when I catch up on some other tasks of which I'm behind.  I still intend to post here "The Sunday Muse" and perhaps a few others midweeks.

    If I were, . . . 

If I were little kid again 
I'd have my monkey near 
Made from blue, white, and red stockings 
His red nose from the heel
I'd be hugging him close to my chest 
Or he'd be hugging me 
I'd drag him around--we hand in hand 
Close to me always be 

And I were a bit bigger kid 
I'd be playing cousins 
Cousin things playing on Grandma's floor 
Cars and trucks we would drive  
He would always have more toys than I 
Taxi cabs he'd have two 
So Grandpa'd make him give me one 
Mine to keep take it home 

If I were a big kid again 
A bicycle alone 
Little sister would have her own 
The girls bike could be hers 
Sharing bicycles is the pits 
Thing boys needn't do 

Were I a teenage lad again 
Smoking I wouldn't do 
Cigarettes would stay in their place 
Uncle's glove compartment 
It's there they should have stayed 
Gave my sister one, she smoked two 
Made her sick, be no more  

Were I young again, drop out days 
My Ford would still be fast 
Back then my car was a "sleeper" 
It looked stock but watch out 
The fifty-two Ford would out run 
any Chevy around 
Bored and stroked, ported and relieved, 
street cam, dust you at lights 

If I were younger mid forties 
I'd have my Beagle dog 
Be a therapy pair again 
She would still be the best 
Visit hospitals, senior homes, 
help children learn to read 

 - - - 
You wonder where your toys have gone 
Sleeping away some place 
In a drawer or a cardboard box 
High on a closet shelf 

My toy monkey is lost, I looked 
This morning writer's break 
The taxi died, not of old age 
Left outside crushed by car 
Sister had kept the bicycle 
Hung on a garage peg 
Cigarettes and pipes, chew and dip,
I too have quit, forties 

I sometimes wonder, "Ford still runs?" 
Saw her once on the street 
Still wanting to race at the light 
Jealous, others I've had 

Adi died, my sweet Beagle dog 
Carry her picture now 

That's the end of this yarn right now 
More to come, perhaps 

 - - - 

       This is another toy, 
       "Educated Monkey"  
       He helped me learn my math 
       He used his hands and his feet 

       One foot on Your Number 
       Other was directed 
       as the Multiplier 
       Hands would hold the Product 

 - - - 

 - Poem and Photos Copywrite, Jimmiehov 2021 and earlier, All Rights Reserved 
 - Chesterfield Cigarettes, 2018 "Screen Print" photo from a site that I have forgotten 
 - I am linked with Rommy at The Weekly Scribblings #93, 
 - Rommy is hosting the last Weekly Scribblings forever, and as our last Wednesday prompt, has asked us to “write about something we really enjoyed in childhood – a toy, a book, a place, a movie – anything that held a place in your heart back then.
 - I smoked from age 17 until our younger daughter was born.  I still like to drive fast cars, I've been up to 150 steady on the German Autobahn, here momentarily to 140 testing a car, and still have a pretty fast 1998 Mustang GT Convertible.  The educated monkey is one my son bought me on eBay when he thought that I had lost my original hand-me-down now well over 100 years old.  The Taxi Cab did get run over and was crushed after I had left it out all night being my dad's tractor. 
More of my toys posts (my toys and some others) are found by the Label below and on my other fairly active blog, 

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Sunday, October 24, 2021

Sunday Muse - Stealing through the night


  Space Man Walking the Streets 

He comes in the middle of the night 
No one knows how he gets here 
They say he's looking for specimens 
Humans for sake of science 

There's no one missing that we know 
Dogs and cats some rabbits too 
Birds large and small, fish and turtles 
Don't let him come near to yours 

Was 'shopping' secretly, clandestine 
But as of late he's come out
Walking the streets, covers gone  
Searching, specimens correct 

Will it be a healthy you or me 
Walking the streets, hope neither 

 - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 
 - Photo furnished for our inspiration by Carrie with The Sunday Muse #183, 

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Wednesday, October 20, 2021

Weekly Scribblings - My Army Time Car

    My old Mercury 

A Jimmy Dean 1950 Mercury two door.  It was a lovely car when I got it free and clear.  No more car payments for me.  

When I was drafted into the U.S. Army with car payments on a bought-new 1956 Ford Sunliner convertible my car payments were more than my government paycheck.  Those payments were fine when I worked in the watch factory but no more. 

Before I left to go into boot camp a 'kindly' used car dealer made the swap with me.  He would sell my car and keep the proceeds while I would drive away in the six-year-old Mercury.  Fine deal for me.

The car was fast like most every car I've ever owned.   Pretty too, fit for this young fellow, who was sort of like the actor, James Dean who had a similar 1949 Mercury.  To me he was a real "Rebel without a Cause" like the movie in which he starred. 

The car served me well but five years later my car things had slowed almost to a stop.  Mostly because it wasn't fast anymore, it moved forward only, and then not very fast.  

Two gears refused to go like I liked, Reverse and First Gear had given up. With a wife who didn't work and now four kids (the firstborn were twins) I couldn't afford to buy a new one on Army pay.  

My kindly father came to the rescue and traded with me for his tired but running well ten-year-old Ford.  My brother-in-law drove it down to Texas, a thousand miles, and drove the forward moving only now-so-sad car up to my dad. 
 - - - -  

 - Poem and Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021 and 2020, All Rights Reserved .
 - I am linked with Rosemary at The Weekly Scribblings #92 where she is hosting. ( 
 - Rosemary has given us a directional prompt, to "write something on the theme of forward movement, in whatever way you choose to interpret that".  I wrote "prose" with 274 words including the title.  My only problem is that I am not sure it is the type, car and personal stuff, prose suitable for posting here.
 - The picture is me with the 1950 Mercury taken at the foot of Mt. Franklin which another and I would soon be climbing.  After enjoying the summit and its town of El Paso views we would ride back down in the cable car.  
[photo courtesy of the authors cited below]
 - "The 1949 Mercury Eight Coupe that Jim Stark aka James Dean drove in Rebel Without A Cause has been kept safe and sound all these years at the National Automobile Museum in Reno, Nevada. The vehicle collection in the that mostly belongs to late casino owner William F. Harrah . . . " ( )

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Sunday, October 17, 2021

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,  


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Tuesday, October 12, 2021

Weekly Scribblings - They're Keepers


   These shoes . . . 
    (an ode to these shoes

"These boots are made for walkin'" 
An old country western song 
"... gonna walk all over you"
Hush Puppy shoes made to walk  
Walk you did, these shoes of mine 
Dusty trails and dusty roads 
Paths in Israel, Jesus walked 
Precious now, these shoes of mine 

I don't wear you anymore 
Nor wipe road dust from your soles 
The paths of Jesus you've crossed  
So many times that summer 

Revered you sit on my shelf  
Where you've been my mind returns  

 - - - 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked to Magaly at The Weekly Scribblings #91  for the prompt below at 

 - Magaly asked us to "write poetry or prose inspired by personal symbols. Not a symbol that holds the same meaning for everyone, but something special to you."
 - I have not worn these shoes since we returned from our Holy Land Tour in 1980.  They sit on the top shelf of my closet for me to see up there and reflect.

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Sunday, October 10, 2021

Sunday Muse - a Tribute to

Winetta Dukes Tassin 

He fell for her

Pawn rook and queen 

Dear lady's love 

Will linger on 

Generous, sweet 

Willingly down 

love's isle she went 

She gave to him 

Her attention 

Like none before 

Perfect couple 

From that day on 

She'd pull the weeds 

Mow needing grass 

Herd pickup truck 

Farmer instinct 

Sang high sang low 

Loud, crisp and clear 

Words of love for 

us and her God 

Not a selfish 

Bone in her bod 

Welcomed always 

in family 

Upon that day 

For her to leave 

She went with peace 

in soul, to God 

Her king and knight 

Gladly laid down 

Written in Tribute for my dear sister-in-law 

who died September 9, 2021 (Obituary)

 - - - 

 - Poem and Photo Copy Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Carrie for the CHESS BOARD Prompt Photo at Sunday Muse #181, 

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Tuesday, October 05, 2021

Weekly Scriblings - October Calling

Jim's birthday, 2007, at a Hue Hue Tenango (Guatemala) 
orphanage (first year, I went again on this mission trip in 2008)

    October's Call 

“I’m so glad I live in a world 
where there are Octobers.”*  Because . . .  
Calendar month my birthday lies 

Every year I threaten to run 
Run away from my cruel world 
Often times I do make that run 

Run away far away from here 
Or be it near round the corner 
Take my wife and away we go 

New York City has beckoned me 
Guatemala two times I went 
Octoberfest in Germany 

Others beckoned me London too 
Nearby New Braunfels Texas called 
Galveston beaches soft warm sand 

Or a ship sailing far away 
Oceans wide or Moscow rivers 
Arctic Circle, China's rivers 

Still many more they've beckoned me 
Around the world penguins to roos** 
Fifty states 76 lands***  

Now to then candles on my cakes
Oh yes in many I've driven 
October birthdays, hit the roads 

*quote from  L.M. Montgomery, author of Anne of Green Gables (Wikipedia)
**"roos", an abbreviated form of Kangaroos 
***"76 lands," Click Here for countries I've visited.
 - - - 
 - Poem and Photos Copyright,  Jimmiehov 2021 and 2007, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with Rommy again at The Weekly Scribbles #90 Poets and Storytellers United: Search results for Weekly Scribblings #
 - Rommy wants us to "take our inspiration from the quote “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers”, the word October, or from autumn in general."

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