Saturday, March 28, 2020

The Pig

The kids are coming 

The kids are coming, that's what Grandpa said.
Grandpa had been uptight, climbing the walls.
But Grandma was tearing up, really sad.
Grandpa hadn't noticed, counting his balls.   

Grandpa hadn't liked this new holiday.
Never before was a day, freedom lost,
honor White Pigs Day. The president made
mandatory celebration, dang laws.  

Honor the pig? Really a day off work.
Well, the kids all came, the grandchildren too.
Yes, there had been a pig, white spotted York.
Saved the nation from Coffee Party new.  

Those mad men and ladies he slew, no few.
The ones who didn't die went underground.
Soon to be gassed they were, Presidents do.
Honor The Pig, accolades all around.  

Grandpa pretended his day to enjoy.
He'd rather playing golf, losing more balls,
than give homage to The Pig, mangy boy.
The President? The Pig? Coffee Man galls? 

Spring Garden; Lonely Little 
Texas Bluebonnet, © 2020
- - - - - -
Originally posted March 20, 2014

Photo and Poem Copyright, © Photo 2008, Poem 2014, Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

I'm linked today with Izzy at the Real Toads, The Challenge--Out of Standard 

Now. March 28, 2020,I have linked again, to Sanaa Rizvi in the Writer's Pantry at 

Izzy's Challenge:
Invoke your reign over the calendar and write a poem which takes place on a holiday you invented.  It can be to canonized your personal hero who does not have a holiday already, or celebrate an event that you feel deserves it’s own time in the limelight. Or just make up some crazy nonsense, like the Day of the Seventh Head of Matilda.  You know, shake hands with your imagination.

I have one rule and one rule only for this prompt--your poem must take place on your holiday, not simply be about your holiday.  This means you will need to invoke a narrator and some sort of setting!

Labels: , , , , ,


At Thursday, March 20, 2014 9:14:00 AM, Blogger Kerry O'Connor said...

Well, that is a jolly attractive pig!

At Thursday, March 20, 2014 12:02:00 PM, Blogger Susan said...

This made me flash on Orwell's Animal Farm, but Grandpa and grandma here keep it benign. Balls instead of coins, sure!

At Thursday, March 20, 2014 3:15:00 PM, Blogger Hannah said...

Love the image and the imagination, Jim!! Thank you for your visit! :)

At Thursday, March 20, 2014 4:08:00 PM, Blogger Helen said...

Me and my white hair? We like your holiday, Grandpa!

At Thursday, March 20, 2014 7:34:00 PM, Blogger Kay L. Davies said...

You are so funny, Jim, and I needed the laugh. Thanks for being there.

At Friday, March 21, 2014 8:33:00 PM, Blogger audrey` said...

Oink, oink, Dr Jim :)

At Saturday, March 29, 2014 12:57:00 PM, Blogger Isadora Gruye said...

First, I have been delayed in getting to your post and for that, I apologize! I was certainly happy I dropped by to read this one. I loved the flow and rhyme you embedded and how it felt a little rockwell, a little sinister. There is also some playfulness here. For instance, Grandpa counts his balls in the first verse, then we later find out they are golf balls. Well done and viva la

At Sunday, March 29, 2020 3:32:00 PM, Blogger ZQ said...

Yikes! Yup! And there we are.

At Sunday, March 29, 2020 6:32:00 PM, Blogger Marja said...

Ah this flows well and love the wordplay

At Monday, March 30, 2020 3:29:00 AM, Blogger anthonynorth said...

You're on a role today. Excellent.

At Monday, March 30, 2020 5:04:00 AM, Blogger Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Sounds like a great excuse for a holiday!

At Monday, March 30, 2020 4:31:00 PM, Blogger Myrna R. said...

I'll take a pig holiday any time. Why not honor pigs. They're smart, chubby, cute.
Oh, sorry. I think I've been home too long. But I sure did enjoy your poem.


Post a Comment

<< Home