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Saturday, January 28, 2023

The Player -- a Poem for the Sunday Muse

BERJAYA
Somewhere around nothing - by Brooze

Help from the ______?

If an orchestra plays in the wilds 
will anybody hear 
If I play my bass in an open field 
is there just one to feel 
If I hit a home run, empty bleacher 
will any give a hoot

Practice is practice must have a reward 
hears, feels, or gives a hoot
If I become president, queen, or pope 
why was I doing that 
Athlete, player, comedian covets 
your applause means a lot 

When I'm trying to become a writer 
I'd like some readers please 
And dear reader would you please feedback give 
comment, critique or praise 
_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehove 2023, All Rights Reserved 
 - Photo Prompt from Carrie at the Sunday Muse #244, at 
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Friday, January 27, 2023

My Grandmother H -- for Tuesday dVerse Poetics and Friday Writings

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Larger memorial image loading...

    My Grandma H

It's a Monday wash day, 
it's off to Grandma's house we go, 
Mom and I
I'm riding on the package shelf 
of our 1929 Model A Ford 
We are off to do our washing, Mom and I
we used Grandma's washer
because we didn't have one yet 

Grandma was my best friend, 
and closest, 
we lived on a farm down and across the road 
I'd tell her my doings, 
she listed with an eager ear to my yarn 
Grandma had been a school teacher, 
she learned to listen good 
She, 
I knew I was her favorite 
wanted to know the things I'd done 

The day I told her, 
she knew already and had asked, 
about the car 
My Dad was buying a 1934 Chevrolet, 
one with a back seat for kids 
It was a secret, Grandma's surprise to hear.  
But she already knew 
and asked me, 
"Your going to get a knew car, aren't you?" 
I didn't know it was a secret 
and so told her what I knew  

Every year, 
we'd go to Grandma's house 
on Thanksgiving Day and for Christmas 
her favorite cooking for me 
was her scalloped oysters, 
with browned and soaked soda crackers 
on the wall of the crock 
She was a good cook, 
I thought the best  

Like my mom, 
Grandma had been a town girl 
but married a fellow from the farm 
Country mothers took care 
of the chickens and eggs 
and cooked and cleaned 
and took care of the kids, she had five 
Things they from their mothers 
hadn't learned real well till things came up 

On their 50th wedding anniversary 
they had "Open house" 
My folks talked about it some, 
my favorite talk to tell was about the bar 
Grandpa wanted a bar for his friend, 
Grandma said, no liquor in my house 
I feel Grandma didn't know until it was done, 
Grandpa had made a bar in the barn 

Grandma died while I was gone, 
New Hampshire, 
she lived in Nebraska 
I lived in New Hampshire then, 
I chose not to go to the funeral 

She died at age 96 in 1968  
I visited her grave later, every time 
when I would come home 
to visit relatives 

BERJAYA 

I have written of grandparents before, 
here is a link to those postings, URL
     _ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 
 - Photo from our family picture stash
 - I am linked with Magaly who is posting the Friday Writings at   
  - It is exactly prose word count max, 369 for Friday Writings.  I'm not sure prose poems have that restriction 
 - I am also linked with dVerse Poetics hosted for prompting by Sarah at 
    she wants us to write of our grandmothers, I had two, Grandma H was my closest both relationship and distance. 
 - This was another write I almost made sitting on the edge of my bed in the middle of the night.  Instead, I stayed up and didn't go back to bed, 5:58 AM on my day to sleep in.
 - You can read other's dVerse responses to the prompt here, at      
 - You might be inspired to write with us
  .. 

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Thursday, January 26, 2023

Two Fish Stories --- a Memento Form Poem for the dVerse write

BERJAYA

   Fish Stories Two; a 
    memento form poem write

Keep fish on my wall to remind 
Hatchery Missouri 
No bites 
Grandma's trip for us stays in mind 
Friend came along for me 
Pool side 

Girlfriend, we fished her father's pit  
Little brother along 
Bait his 
We caught no fish her brother did 
All day off brother's hook 
Re-bait 
 - - - 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with Grace at dVerse Meeting the Bar:  Memento at 
  - These both are True, we could catch NO Fish while we were there, it was bait brother's hook, take off fish, bait brothers hook, take off fish, etc.

For the Memento Form use:
    8 beats for line one; 
    6 beats for line two; and 
    two beats for line three.
    8 beats for line one; 
    6 beats for line two; and 
    two beats for line three. 
Rhyme use: a/b/c/a/b/c
This is repeated twice for two stanzas.
 
 - To read what others have written, please click here 
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Monday, January 23, 2023

Rabbit Cooling It - a Poem for dVerse Quadrille Monday

BERJAYA

National Pie Day

Little Rabbit came looking for 
a leftover pie 
He knew how to enter the fridge 
and looked all around 
Sipped and sampled the goodies all 
pie he found nothing
But danged if he knew the way out 
Wait for you to let 

Ice-cold Bunny 
_ _ _

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 
 - I've used the rabbit picture before, first in 2008 (link) as my Easter Rabbit surprise. I have no idea where it originated, it came on a chain e-mailing.
 - I am linked with Mish for dVerse Quadrille Monday #168, prompt today "Ice",  at 
 - Quadrille Monday's poetry has exactly 44 words 
 - To reads other's Quadrille poems, go here,
    Perhaps you would like to write these also 
 - In the U.S. we celebrate National Pie Day, Bing Search My favorite is Apple Pie with Vanilla Ice Cream 
 - Bloggers also write for Pi Day, internationally, Bing Search.  I generally write and post for that, see mine here.

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Saturday, January 21, 2023

Locked Door - a ditty for the Sunday Muse

BERJAYA

There is a room in my house 
where I hardly go 
I have the key just for me 
you can't go in 
Just for me to visit things 
things I've not done 
Throw them in this room for now 
rainy day stuff 

Procrastinate name for this  
never may do 
Finish writing my memoirs 
not real pleasant 
Glue the broken crying doll 
must buy the glue 
 Projects, poems, unfinished stuff, 
like pulling teeth 

Someday never comes for me 
just let things go 
Though day of haunting may come 
take my chance when 
 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 
 - Photo from Carrie, one of hers from which to choose, at the Sunday Muse #243 
 .. 

Friday, January 20, 2023

Visitor Growth - a write for Friday Writings

BERJAYA
[Most any photo will be shown as a Larger view if you click on the picture.  
It might become larger still if you click on it again.]

    
    The Visitor Came 

The day the visitor came 
A fuzzy little guy, brown 
He looked hungry, we fed him 
All vegetables, our surprise 
A hungry guy sort of thin 

We talked a bit just chit chat 
He then proceeded to tell 
Tell of his life's hardships; 
"Born in the wild, jungle home 
But now on city streets"   

We asked him had he a place 
He said "no kind folk, I don't" 
Now family conference 
If you're nice you can stay here 
He has been here ever since 

"One problem, I have four buds 
They've street people too, we five 
Dawny Duck, Frosty Snowman, 
Bunny Rabbit, Teddy Bear 
Nice children, sleep in one bed 

All five of us need a home"
I've another, monkey caged 
I fear he seems to like that 
Swinging in his cage all day 
Passersby come, they applaud

Visitor Tig, was the best 
Nice kid and so were the rest 
Even so was the monkey 
But he's not want to escape 
Well fed, much loved, all for free 
     _ _ _ 

Note:  I've rewritten this poem today, January 21, 2023.  If you read it yesterday it had Tig and his friends, along with the monkey, being taken from the wilds before being adopted into the home of the writer of the poem.  I have saved it but now it is much nicer, almost cute, than before.

Monkey friend, November 12, 2007 

This little fellow greeted us every morning at our hotel while we were staying in HuehueTenango, Guatemala for two weeks.  At the video end we were sharing hands.

 - Photo, Video, and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, 2007 and 2023, Respectfully, All Rights Reserved
 - I am linked with Rosemary at the Friday Writings #60, at  
 
 - This week Rosemary is asking us to write about 'the visitor' – whatever that may suggest.

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Monday, January 16, 2023

Sunny Day Painting - a Write for dVerse Prosery

BERJAYA
Me on our Alaska 2005 cruise excursion to the Yukon 
[click here for larger view]


Sunny day, I drive up to North Yukon's greenery, yellow dandelions and purple violets.  Spring had sprung, trees were green, shimmering water in streams and lakes was clear sky blue.  The trees' wet and shiny green new leaves shimmered too; the firewood turning gray they'd save it for next fall. (50

My old truck helped the scene, its fenders rusting green, trusty old Ford pickup made nineteen-forty-one.  Put me in the picture, driving clothes gave semblance of humanity's warmth.  Viewers would want to join blues in jeans and jacket, red and white shirt, white shoes. (44)

Bumper, bed boards, and chrome Fences, siding and roof, propane tank and faucets, with the chair all blend in.  Artists call them fillers.  My painting brush goes wild with colors abounding.  Seems as everything I do is stitched with its color. (41) 

The brush does not mind, it enjoys the pozazz.  (9) 

Notes:  
   1. I think this would stand alone without illustrations, what say you? 
   2. My Grandfather H had an old truck of this model, real pretty back then.  
     I rode with him a lot, hauling his stud horse around to visit the neighbors.
 _ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copryight, Jimmiehov 2023, All rights Reserved 
 - I'm linked with MSJADELI IN PROSERY for dVerse Prosery at
 -We were instructed to use the phrase of W.S. Merwin’s line of poetry, "everything I do is stitched with its color.  Our directions were to write a poem with 144 words or less, I chose the 144 challenge, the paragraph ending numbers are the number of words in its write.
 - Click here for a showing of links to the others' writings 
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Saturday, January 14, 2023

Ladies I Knew - a Poem for the Sunday Muse

To the ladies I have known
Some for a day 
others seemed and hoped forever. 
I've changes your names, 
to "protect the innocent "

BERJAYA
Painting by Richard Burlet “Woman in Blue” 

My first steady girl friend 
Earline, a very fancy girl 
came from a farm but then 
lived in the YWCA 
Curfew at Eleven PM 
cut out of foolishness 
After eleven the cruise gang 
was just beginning to 
take the streets 
We dated for about a year 

BERJAYA

Mrs. Farmer lived downstairs 
She'd covered her back patio 
made extra room 
for her niece who lived with 
Mrs. F was my landlady  
didn't mind my oddities 
The niece left for Israel to live 
I moved closer to my work 
I never saw Mrs. Farmer 
or her niece again 

BERJAYA

National Geographic 1959 Inuit boy, Alaska 

Made coffee the boss and more 
Bets liked me a lot, a fun girl 
came to visit me a lot too 
We'd go for motorcycle rides 
Never serious body closeness 
One day after lunch, 
a going way party for a fellow,
we didn't come back to work that day 
Her husband was off to war 
she left our work when he came back  

BERJAYA

Bees near her bonnet--didn't let them in 
I called her my Hippie Friend 
barefoot, straggly blond hair 
cutoff jeans, bicycle at the stairs 
yellow dog waiting there for her 
Smart as a whip, "A" in calculous 
studied it in English class, back class row 
For "Contemporary Economics" class 
built a sidewalk for underprivileged school kids 
we took my VW Bug way up north 

BERJAYA

Three of my lady friends 
each married a buddy of mine  
Angel was fancy, like fancy parties 
she invited me to escort her one night 
Houston Rodeo Kick Off Party, 
at the Coliseum guest ball room 
Helena married my race car driver bud,  
her sister Irene and I sat in the back seat 
the night before her wedding, 
her fiancé was driving


BERJAYA

Mrs. Jim I married years and years ago 
Though there were a few others, 
my foolishness was over, parked my motorcycle 
when she was of child 
I love her dearly, she the 
dearest real love ever one could find 

She found me at a singles supper 
that our apartment landlady was giving 
We didn't know each other before 
and I was not supposed to be there 
It was the first night of my night class 
but the prof took role and apologized 
He let us go home--my Buddy Mike and his lady friend 
had saved me a plate, saying "Jim might come"

I came and the 
rest was history 

BERJAYA
[click on photo for larger view, click once or twice]
[We were ready to depart from Aukland, NZ]

 - Bottom Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2013 and 2023 respectfully, All Rights Reserved 
 - The rest of photos are the ones that Carrie , hosting, has chosen for inspiration for us to write, at the Sunday Muse #242, I decided to choose every one of them,  
 - I am also posting it one of my other blogs, "To All the Girls . . . " at  
..

Tuesday, January 10, 2023

Gone - a write for Friday Writings and for Tuesday dVerse Poetics

 BERJAYA 


    Motherless

Don't you remember when 
your mother died 
You'd always had one 
and now she's gone 
Feeling you couldn't stop 
tears in your eyes 
You joined the orphan crowd 
yet you're alone 
Feeling it won't go 'way 
motherless now 

Then suddenly one day  
it goes away 
Whisked don't remember when 
feeling had left 
Gone just gone no more tears 
life has gone on 
 _ _ _ 


Friday, January 13, 2023, and now a bit on my Wheel: 

The wheel repeats itself over and over again. Maybe it's stationary, scenery is same o' same o'.  And then there's the one on the go, a different scene every revolution. Can we choose which we'll be, security or adventure?

My Wheel when I was a boy was a light steel spoke Wheel from a retired critter of burden. I rescued the wheel for my own.

Stationary or on the go?  Well, on the go when I wanted to play.  I goaded it to go with my big stick, steered it too with the stick. 

We went all over the farmstead and out to the mailbox once a day.  The Wheel and my stick had become my favorite outside toy.  Visitors and family would say, "Here comes Jim and his Wheel." 

Then one day, I don't know when or how, like the 'Motherless feeling" in my poem, the Wheel went away, gone, gone from my life.  Mom to Heaven, the Wheel back to the junk pile.  Life goes on. 

Note:  Hoop rolling is still being done, mostly with storebought equipment (Wikipedia).
..
 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 
 - Photo just popped up in my message box late last night from my brother-in-law--it brought that feeling to my mind, sans tears 
 - I am linked with Rommy for Friday Writing #59 at,  
  Rommy has asked us to use the word, Wheels, if we wanted or needed a prompt.  But I am sooo behind that I decided to us this one I had written for Tuesday as I was late there and only had only a few readers and have only two who left comments.  
Then later tonight I added the blurb about my "Wheel toy".
 - I am also first linked with dVerse Poetics hosted for prompting by  at 
 - This was another write made sitting on the edge of my bed in the middle of the night 
 - You can read other's dVerse responses to the prompt here,  at  https://www.blenza.com/linkies/links.php?owner=dversepoets&postid=07Jan2023&meme=12476 
 - You might be inspired to write with us
  .. 

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Monday, January 09, 2023

Afraid - a Poem for dVerse Quadrille Monday

BERJAYA
This one's younger daughter Karen's car, it's
a 1982 or so Pine Wood Derby Racer
     
Bold Not 

My driving may scare you 
Bold I'm not nor reckless 
Tell the folk I'm not good
Good drivers don't scare 

Skillful's the word I use 
Fast and furious me 
Drove every car I've owned 
To see how fast it went  

Hundred sixty my top 
                _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved
 - I  am linked with Dee Jackson for dVerse Poetics prompt today "Bold" at  
 - Quadrille Monday's poetry has exactly 44 words 
 - To reads other's Quadrille poems, go here,  
  Perhaps you would like to write these also  
..

Saturday, January 07, 2023

My Home - a Poem for the Sunday Muse


    The Girl You See 

I'm the girl you see in the window 
in the window at Macy's 
I've been here a hundred sixty years 
Passersby stare at me 

It's not me they see rather my dress 
in the dress see themselves 
Better for me they're seeing their love 
maybe buy one for her 

Early mornings quite lonesome for me 
mostly men their quick glance 
Take me home take me home go with you 
O to be warm, cuddly 

That won't happen for me never will 
lonely cold Mannequin 
 _ _ _ 

BERJAYA

_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 
 - Photo prompt choice made from Carrie's selection at the Sunday Muse #241, at 
 - Macy's was founded in 1858, 165 years ago this year 
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