“This world has no meaning. Why would we bother?"

 My writing prompt today asks the question,Please tell us, how would YOU answer ‘this most dark and demoralised question: “This world has no meaning. Why would we bother?"

    Mother's Car

Mother's car sat in my garage 

Had sat there for ten useless years 

Before she died you could see her 

She and the pretty Ford Mustang 

They were all around her small town 

Running errands or bringing food 

Going to church, you could name it 

I had bought it for her, stick shift 

Four on the floor as she had wanted 

Wanted to know gear it was in 

After she died her car was idle 

Sat up until we hauled it away 

Strange thing a young lady to rescue 

Off the tow truck I gave it to her 

She liked it like a lover's sweetheart 

Father was a Mustang mechanic 

Now it runs all around doing good 

Running errands like Mother had been 

. . .  

Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved I am linked with and written in response to Rommy,s prompting post

Days come and go

Yesterday came and went 

Today is here and going 

Tomorrow we're waiting for 

. . . 

. Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved I am linked with and written in response to Mary,s prompting post. (Sorry but my machine is broken, it refuses to print the line distribution intended) . . .

Unspoken

My first car was unspoken 

A solid wheel vehicle 

One that Dady bought for me 

Trade in by my principal 

A 1950 it was 

Studebaker Starlight Coupe 

Back then only bicycles 

Their wheels had spokes and more spokes 

Well, tricycles still had spokes 

But the cars then were safer 

Doing away with the spokes 

Unspoken they had become 

 

Now again spokes have returned 

But they are so much stronger 

Engineered from solid steel 

My Mustang is much safer 

Much safer than solid steel 

Goodbye to unspoken wheels. 

. . .  

Photos and Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved 

I am linked with and Written in response of Mary's"s prompt,  at 

Mary's prompt "The Unspoken" at What's Going On? 

 https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1

Twilight comes

 

   Twilight comes 

Twilight is nearing 

Snowmen, they would be

Safe another day 

But the deer next door 

They suffered great loss 

Twilight was the shield 

Naughty boys' snowballs 

They used it's darkness 

Threw the frozen first 

Every light carried 

Broken to pieces 

Sadness sadness came 

At winter's dim light 

Mourning over there 

Though snowmen soothed 

Twilight not enough 

Brought sadness to call 

. . .

I am writing trying to satisfy Susan's "Settle yourself into a twilight--either before sunup or before sundown, turn on a light or light a candle, and write a new poem influenced by a winter or summer twilight.  What's going on?"

https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1 

. . .

Adi and I and Them

            

    Our Pet Therapy Pair

Adi and I were a nice pair 

We were a Pet Therapy Pair 

Alzheiimer's victims made happy 

They made Adi happy as well 

Telling her of their dogs behind 

Where and what they were doing now 

We'd hear their stories times again 

I miss Adi now, died two twelve. 

. . . 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked at "https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1" with Mary at "What's Going On" for her prompt, ". . . today’s topic asks you (to reflect) on "Alone" 

 - I am also linked with "Friday Writings #207" with Rosemary at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

Cranked Up

     

   Cranked up the Jalopy 

I cranked up the old jalopy 

She was aching for an outing 

Plenty of times was left behind 

Was Mexico or Canada 

Why fly every time could have drove 

Europe or Asia understood 

The boys at the car grooming place 

All liked this baby, jalopy 

Smoothly they managed every gear 

Polished her standing dusty rear 

. . . 

BTW, last night I posted my first Christmas Tree Farm tree for 2025.  I will being posting the trees as I come across them. NYC's will be next, maybe on Thanksgiving Day. 

https://jimmiehov7.blogspot.com/2025/11/o1-first-tree-for-2025-season.html?m=1 

. . .

 - Photo and Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked at "https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1" with Sumana Roy with "What's Going On" for her prompt, ". . . today’s topic asks you (to reflect) on what brings you joy and purpose.  My car likes to make me happy. 

I am also - I am linked with  "Friday Writings" 204 at  https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 

 . . .

Note:  At the grooming place every groomer told me what a nice car she was. I  felt good; my baby, jalopy was born in 1998, 27 years ago.  I treat her nice and easy, no more green light drag race for her. She was my retirement present from myself. 

. . . 

My Trips

. . . 

   

. . . 

Vertical Traveler;  Satellite Machine 

" I traversed the world 

From top to bottom 

Then bottom to top 

Beautiful scenery 

Different every trip 

Over and over 

Circles round the world 

The world circled too 

Bulge in my belly 

Camera through the hole 

They send the photos 

Back to headquarters 

Big time spy am I "

. . . 

 - Poem Copyright Jimmiehov 2025, All Rights Reserved.  The "Endless Knot" I copied from our prompt instructions, part of which is copied below. 

 - I'm writing for the poetry blog named "What's Going on".  Here is the prompt: "For this prompt, write about things or ideas that remain the same despite life's events.  We live in a world where even positive values seem to be temporary  and time specific.  But what is unchanging, what can we count on, or what do we hope is timeless or everlasting?"

Linked to 

https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1

"Time of Covid"

"Ten situations for "Friday Writings"

associated with the COVID 

1.  Bad

2. Long COVID 

3. A killer 

4. Quarantine 

5. Masks 

6. Smell sense loss

7. Taste sense loss

8. Congestion 

9. Medication 

10. Contagious 

(My poem is next below)

 

     Time of COVID 

Mrs J wasn't feeling well 

That fateful day we're on our cruise 

Seeking medicine she called in 

The infirmary's man came 

Thermometer and a test pouch 

Temperature fine, blood pressure too 

But the test pouch said COVID big 

Grabbed her things she was whisked away 

Next thing she knew room of her own 

Quarentine and flu medicine 

I, her husband, tested each day 

Day five was told go to your room 

Pack your things join your wife, COVID 

Ten days it was then, lesser now 

Cruise over landed South Hampton 

Hotel room we'd finish our time 

What now is on my mind?  Let's see 

Lost my taste, smell, some memory 

Congestion still, won't go away 

My wifey did better better than I 

There is another man we talked 

Talked with him before quarentined 

He was sitting close to the stairs 

We were close, did he get COVID??

. . .

- Photo and Poem Copyright Jimmiehov 2025 All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Mary at "What's Going on " here: https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1 

 - I am also linked with Friday Writings #200 

where the "optional prompt will invite you to write something about, or including, the number 10. And/or write a 10-line poem or story".  Rosemary Nissen-Wade is hosting at 

https://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2025/10/time-of-covid.html?m=1 

And I linked with Lillian at dVerse, 

. . . https://dversepoets.com/2025/10/23/open-link-night-and-dverse-live-from-boston/ 

...

Van Gogh's Grove

 

Van Gogh's Busy Grove 

Asleep in Van Gogh's calm retreat 

I was awakened by a course 

and whisky pitted noise from tongue 

'Twas making song recognized not 

Children dancing to the burly 

I wouldn't call it a dance song 

A bed of fallen grapes beneath 

Beneath it all their blanket spread 

The grapes and rotted fallen leaves 

Old newspapers soaked with brown mud 

Tripping the children right and left 

They blend with the leaves, mud, and goo 

Up on the hill it was Van Gogh 

Source of the music's horrid songs 

Smiling as he played, children laughed

Dancing up the hill, song unknown 

Gogh joined their fun, kid's song picked up 

They didn't know he was famous 

Then not the muddy kids painted

Easy, their mothers did complain 

. . . 

 - 

Photos and Poem Copyright Jimmiehov 2025, All Rights Reserved 

 - We had an optional prompt but I am in the hospital as a patient so time did not allow me to write a new poem for here. I hope you like this rather new one instead. 

 - I am linked with Sumana Roy at "What's Going on" at  https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1 who wanted us to showuse an artwork of your choice for your inspiration. 

 - I am also am linked with Rommy at  "Friday Writings" 199 at  https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 

 

 - The bottom Grove photo is the actual Grove as it looked for our visit in 2006. 

. . . 

Weary Days

 Weary Days 

Weary days, they induce 

Induce restful night sleep 

Sleep like a baby does 

Head under the covers 

Only nose and mouth out 

Weary days, they are hard 

Legs and feet pay a price 

But appetites may grow 

Dinner table looks great 

Sit and rest those tired feet 

Weary days not stopping 

Stop when the whistle blows 

Warm water wash those feet 

Soak them a little while 

Lift them high easy chair 

Weary days get better 

Rest has come to you, but 

Gotta get back up now 

Cook supper, tired hands 

Though hungry mouths to feed 

End of day pillow waits 

Play with kids, watch TV  

. . . 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright Jimmiehov 2025 All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Susan at "What's Going on " here: https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1 

. . . 

Sunny Open Road

 

Sunny Open Road 

Open roads in the sunshine

Top-down carrier's ready 

Ready for its sunlit ride 

Tall green trees along the way 

They wave at the passing cars 

Happy to see passengers 

Waving back and smiling wide 

Thinking of sunburns tonight 

. . . 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright ©️ 2025 All Rights Reserved 

  - I am linked with "What's Going on " at https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1  -- This poem was to be written in the vein of Imagist Poetry.  Short, eight lines encouraged and to be pointed.  

 - I tried.  "to write a minimalist, small space poem focusing on a vivid, concrete and specific image that might convey a complex idea or emotion in a single moment. We need a direct language to describe this. It would be perfect if the poem stays within eight lines. "

 Note:  The car belongs to me, a registered Texas Antique Auto.  It is a1998 Ford  Mustang GT 4.6 Convertible that I bought as a retirement present for me from myself.  I retired in 2001.

. . .

Snows not on the Windshield

 

. . . 

Our drive to Missouri should should have been 

unadventual in the back seat 

Father was driving our Chevrolet 

a 1934 black two door 

Dad and Mom up front, two kids in back, 

we were pulling a two wheel trailer 

empty but would be full coming back 

Dad would fill it with cedar fence posts.  

The ride was fun for sister and me 

She was two years old and I was six 

But trouble came soon in Missouri 

Rain started and it leaked through the roof 

Sister climbed up front to be with Mom 

but there was no place for me to go 

A blanket got soaked and I was too 

We were glad when Grandma's house got near 

My grandparents were glad to see us 

With five grandkids I was Grandma's fave 

The other three lived in Oregon 

Grandma had three kids of her own there 

She took us to a fish hatchery 

We had hamburgers to eat that trip 

Jack, her son who was my age and I 

Played mostly outside, toy trucks and cars 

One time I was very peeved with Jack 

He told his mom on me, "naughty me" 

Told her I was playing with "my self" 

She told him shame, don't be Tattletale 

Going home, fence posts and all went well 

I have never heard from my mother 

Grandma's good 'bout telling our secret 

(Note:  We lived on a small share crop farm north of Omaha, Nebraska. My parents are buried there but I have moved to Texas now.) 

. . . 

- Photo and Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025 All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with "What's Going on " at https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1  -- This poem is posted for my experience of a road trip.. Go there to read others about cars and trips. 

. . . 

 - Notes: 

     a.  The "snow" here is related to our writing instructions for this week that involved cars and road trips. 

     b.  My poem for today is true.  My mother wasn't hard on me and may not have wanted to bring this up.  Like she did when she found my cigarettes, took the cigarettes and left a note in my jeans pocket. 

      c. Grandmother here was just a few years older than my Mom.  Grandpa was a widower and remarried a couple of  years before my parents married.  Then the started a new family. 

. . . 

Grandma's house

 I r

Ii

I remember my Grandma H 

When she married her mother's word 

You are boss of the house, who comes, 

and who goes and all that's within 

He is boss of the barn and more 

All the animals and the wilds 

The garden you will have a spot 

Flowers and tasty vegetables 

He will help harvesting your crop 

And plowing the soil for next year 

Pulling and hoeing weeds that grow 

. . . All seemed to be going so well 

Then after fifty years married 

They celebrated open house 

Invited friends from miles away 

Grandpa installed a bar for friends 

Grandma saw the bar and winced 

Grandpa's friends came, bar in the barn. 

. . . 

- Photo and Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025 All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with "What's Going on " at https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1  -- This poem is posted for "Lady's Rights Day",  Go there to read others about rifts. 

 - I am also linked with Sanaa at dVerse open house, https://dversepoets.com/2025/09/11/open-link-night-391-with-live-edition/

. . . 

 - Notes:  

     a.  this is true and my grandfather did have to move his bar to the barn, his friends did meet down in the barn for drinks 

      b. I was born in this house. 

. . . 

Rifts

 

     What do I smell

I smell a rift a'coming 

Little boy holding his pants 

Small in size he isn't big 

Hasn't learned line etiquette 

Standing aside folks don't know

They think  various of him 

Perhaps his mama's in one 

in there and using the lew 

Or she is counting the flow 

Could he be lost in the out 

Out houses don't talk to ask 

Yes, yes he is that I'm sure 

Little boy could you be lost 

Or is your mama inside 

Every one rushing, pushing 

That's the case, I'll get you in 😏 

. . . 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025 All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with "What's Going on " at https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1 .  Go there to read others about rifts. 

Old Hat

   Click on picture for larger viewing 

         That Old Hat 

That old hat had belonged 

Belonged to someone sad 

Sad because the hat was . . .

Well the old hat was lost 

Lost and left in the church 

Wedding's over I took 

A sad hat, took it with

I would never wear it 

Not a goof hat like this 

My sister told me scoop 

The hat had been there long 

Hadn't been claimed, dunno 

That was license for me 

For that hat I had plans 

"Don't tell Sis, my Secret" 

"When we leave leave it there 

On her hanger in back 

Low too where she won't see "

Will she tell what she did 

Surprise, surprise for her 

Then mail surprise for me  

A package in the mail 

From mysister, that hat 

Kept a day, sent it back 

Back and forth that hat went 

Don't know where it is now 

Who has it, we don't know 

. . . 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025 

 - I am linked with Mary at "Whats Going On",  she wants for us to tell her our head gear story. 

 - Same story, earlier and more details here:  https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2013/12/six-word-saturday.html?m=0 

. . . 

Didn't Croak

 

   

Photo of Youngest Son's Clan, Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025, All Rights Reserved 

     Didn't Do

Letter of missing the boat 

My boat was based on the list 

List of things I hadn't done 

I  did them all, I'm still here 

You were with me all the time 

They were saying we're "like twins 

Joined at the hip, used his list"

Now we must each make our own 

We didn't croak pity us 

Theres not much to look for now 

82 countries I've been 

Raised five children countless grands 

Getting to be time to croak 

Perhaps I will this summer

To you Happy Summerween 

I'm the older, love you more 

. . . 

 - Photo and poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025  All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked for this weeks prompt at What's Going On 

 - I am also liked with "Friday Writings" 190 at  https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 -- 

. . . 

My Woods Walk

  

    Introduction to the poem

Written by a man who has no close friends

Grew up on a farm closest was his dog 

(Married now he and wife joined at the hip)

    Morning's Rising 

The woods were mine that morning 

Mine and the birds all around 

Adi my Beagle stayed home 

'Twas way to cold for her  

Birds were singing all around 

Mocking bird returned my call 

"Who cooks for you" was my call 

"Who cooks for you" its return 

A little squirrel jumped down 

Came after some nuts I'd thrown 

Quickly it had company 

Quickly all the nuts were gone 

Bread crumbs for the rabbits 

They timidly watching me 

Softly, quietly they came 

Bigger pieces they ate first 

Gray Wolf on the hill  howled 

He howled to those down below 

Famous art seemed to have known 

Posed like the one on my wall 

Early morning had brightened 

Peaking over horizon 

Timidly the sun came up 

It was time to feed my dog 

. . . 

 - Photo and poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025 

 - I am linked with Lillian at dVerse https://dversepoets.com/  

 - I am also linked for Susan's prompt at What's Going On - a Weekend with Friends

In Uncertain Times

 

     Resignation 

Resignation, it's a word I never knew 

Never knew, does that word now raise its mean head 

Troubles ahead peaking  around the corner 

See THEIR ugly heads 

Start with Mother Nature and her Climate Change 

Papa Politic make up his mind he can't 

Aunts and Uncles are dabbling Economy 

Makes the Preachers swear 

And others are nuzzling in should we resign 

Then give up hope, dig our graves, find our shotguns 

Not for me I'll wait and see if Better looms 

Things change and adapt 

. . . 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright ©️ 2025, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Mary at WHAT'S GOING ON, https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/ 

 - Come see and click other's names, they link to that person's write.  

 - I wrote here tonight using Sapphic Ode form. I  like it. Three eleven syllable lines then one with five syllables.  

Man of the Streets

 This will be the 2032nd post on this blog, the blog and first poem here was November 3, 2006.  Some posts at the start could be a photo but no poem, other writings instead. 

     (Photo courtesy Piqsels)

           Do You Know Him

Man of the streets, nobody cares 

Man who's wanting to be your friend 

Man who's passing offers his hand 

The hand is not taken by most 

Invariably they keep distance 

Some folk will even cross the street 

There must be a problem with him 

That's often what they are thinking 

Others don't wish to be involved 

A few will shake his hand and leave 

There was a college student near 

He became friends with our old man 

Shakes his hand every time they crossed 

Often brings some food, burger, sandwich 

Money not, man was no begger 

. . .

(Note:  I was the college student.  We developed quite a friendship. Then after three semesters I dropped out of college and went back home. I think of the man often but have never returned. )

. . . 

 - I am linked with Sherry Blue Sky at"What's Going on" with the title today of "BEING HUMAN".   You can find her here, https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/ 

 - At that address besides prompt material you can also find other writers click name to read what they have written after studying that same prompt material.

. . . 

Resting

      Just Resting

 

Just Resting 

Where do I go for rest 

Where do you go for rest 

Lots of funny places 

Be like the koala bear 

Up in its tree so snug 

Noon day nap on the couch 

As for me legs are up 

Sitting in my big chair 

Coffee or Coke beside 

Couple cookies or toast 

With the TV blaring 

News, Family Freud, Dateline 

And in my rest eyes close 

Little nap does me good

.  . .  

I am linked with "What's Going on" where the prompt is "Rest"