Glenn Frey, in Tribute

_ _ _ _ _

For Glenn Frey;
My Desperado

Billy Joel sang, "Only the Good
Die Young".  Glenn Frey,

he died a golden age

Sixty-seven years-too soon 

'There's a "New Kid in Town''

His 'I'm "Already  Gone"' 

Didn't mean his passing,

"Peaceful Easy Feeling"

"California Hotel" 

and "Life in the Fast Lane"

Earbugs all, favorites

In our hearts forever

_ _ _ _ _

..

 - Photo and Poem Copyright © 2016 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Notes:

 - I'm linked with Kerry O'Connor at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, The Tuesday Platform, which is an open forum.  Several are writing tributes to David Bowie, Alan Rickman,and Glenn Frey.  These performers died just lately. 

 - I wrote a tribute poem here (link) for David Bowie on January 12, 2016.  It is patterned after my reading and hearing his song, "Slip Away", which I have printed there.

 - The newspaper article with picture was from The Houston Chronicle, January 19, 2016. Page D-4.
 - An 'earbug' is a "song that's stuck in your head that you can't get out for anything." (Urban Dictionary)

Grandpa's gone now -- A 'Challenge' answer poem

Grandpa, raconteur friend, gone
 
Grandpa lived in the good old days
Days of old when children played free
Free of worried moms' curtains peek
He'd be safe until supper time
 
Grandpa ran away, lets go too
We've packed some lunch, water bottle,
And the works in life's small treasures
A dead frog, old key, some marbles
 
We catch a ride, a wagon train
Bright with Gypsy decorations
Bundled away out of the cold
Breakfast porridge, chicken at night
 
One complaint from us, chores to do
Beg from farmers' doorsteps still damp
Damp with warm milk spilt every morn
Get our portion, us urchins bold
 
Then one day the sheriff he comes
Inspecting the train, horses too
Some he takes, Farmer Joe ID's
Under the blanket he finds us
 
We talk about those days of old
We're old now ourselves eighty-five
We snatch a key, drive to Mac Dee
Senior coffee, egg biscuit hot
 
Relive those days, our stories long
How our Gypsy hosts made kids work
How they boiled in oil Gramp's dead frog
Gypsy potion against the flu
 
We've just spread our strawberry jam
Second coffee filled, daughter comes
She'd seen us leave, knew where we'd be
Time for Grandpas to come back home
 
My dream tonight, it's true my oath
Grandpa's in Heaven telling tales
How Gypsies got us, olden day
How we'd escape in borrowed truck
 
Grandpa now six years older, gone
Gone to "a better place"--they're right
Daughter peeking through the curtains
Wonders, angels' ride did he steal

- - - - -

Photos and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

I am linked with Björn Rudberg at the Real Toads, Sunday Mini-Challenge Time-travel

Also I am linked with  at the Real Toads, Open Monday (Link)

Bjorn's challenge  is to "Write a piece of poetry or prose that use past, present and future in the same poem."  I tried to do that.  I'll proof it again tomorrow.  :)

Notes: 
(1)  I have written several "Grandpa" poems on this blog and some more that mention the word "grandpa" within their bodies.  Go HERE to read some of them (this 'Old Blogger' machine does not make a "Next Page" button).

(2)  Pictures, top to bottom: (you can click on any for a larger few, click again for bigger still) 
 - Empty Rocking Chair, one of four on our back porch;
 - Elephant Driving Peddle Car taken in our local Toys 'R Us elephant plush toy display;
 - Fall Scarecrow was sitting in the lobby of my doctor's office;
 - a selfie I took on one of few of our cold Southeast Texas days;
 - Pretty Girl Green Jeep taken parked in front of a home in Key West, Florida; and
 - Faithful Shepherd Pal (it may not be neither a shepherd dog nor a 'him') waiting for his mistress in front of a church in Dolgellau, Gwynedd, Wales (beautiful little town, you should visit there--or spend two days and a night like we did).  The church was having a Saturday Morning Coffee event which we attended.  Mrs. Jim bought a couple of embroideried items and we had several servings of excellent (free) coffee and scones.

Leprechaun Love -- Imaginary Garden Challenge

Love in the Time of __Leprechauns___

(my choice)

 

They'd dance the night away

They'd trip you up any day

 

How were they in lover's lane

Peak in? Beat you with a cane

 

For sure they kissed and kissed

And kissed some more, never missed

 

Mustn't peel hat, pants, or dress

Green masquerade always fresh

 

With a cuppa Irish brew

They'd loosen up, let it go

 

Got things going then, embrace

cuddled, muzzled, kissed a face

 

Things went up, others came down

Masquerade began to frown

 

Nothing's changed, same as today,

Let youngsters' passions play

 

- - - - -

 

 - Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 

 - Picture, Leprechaun Couple, from "A timely favorite"

 

 - I am linked today with Kerry, at the Real Toads, Sunday Mini-Challenge ~ In Other Words

 - Kerry's challenge instructions were to select a "title and substitute your own words in the place of those indicated below, and write a new poem under the title you have created." 

 

- I am also linked with Kerry at the Real Toads, Open Link Monday
 

Pumpkin Patch -- An Acrostic Poem -- Flash 55 Words

 

PUMPKIN PATCH

 

Pumpkin patch beckons now

Under moon's cloud etched light

Met we there long ago

Pure delight evening bliss

Kissed we there, lingering

Instilled a love with lust

Never could it be told

 

Pumpkin patch calls once more

Allure of stolen love

Treasured memory still

Clandestine in our minds

Halved, now miles separate

 

  - - - - -
.
- Photo and Poem Copyright, © 2011 and 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

- Linked with Mama Zen at The Real Toads, Flash Fiction 55 (Link)

- Linked with Kerry at the Real Toads, Open Link Monday (Link)

- Mama Zen requested for her challenge for us to " write a set of 55 words (prose or poetry) ... Results may vary.  Ask your doctor if 55s are right for you."

- For this I have exactly 55 words counting my title.  I chose a syllabic form Acrostic.  I like to write acrostic 'poem's and haven't written one for some time.  The 'Label', 'Acrostic', below will take you to some other acrostic 'poems' I have written.

- As usual, there is some truth in this poem as I have lived several lives within this life I am living in since birth.  Just say it was pre-Mrs. Jim and not nearly as dramatic nor romantic as I have written here.  Of course the setting was not in a Pumpkin Patch but since November is upon us with its usual pumpkin harvest I thought it would be nice to use for my '55 words. I must confess, this piece, while fiction, is loosely based on facts as they 'could have been.'

Sunday Mini-Challenge & Open Link Monday posts

 

A Grain of Love

It was love at first sight, she thought.

A fiery hot courtship followed, she was persistent,

their being together nearly night and day.

Wedding bells' gongs screaming

in her head, begging for fruition.

.

Our handsome young lad was making noises,

sounds of another kind, Please Mary, I need ...

When she'd hint of that blissful day he fidgeted,

coughed lowly, and begged her leave.

Worried a little she took her stand.

Devious it might be, invitations to stay increased.

  .

Oh John, O John, hold me tighter,

I love you so became her consistent whisper.

Whispered softly in his ear.

Night after night, passion abounding,

Oh Johnny, do you love me too?

  .

It took a measured while but then one night,

his wine-breathed whisper barely sounding,

I love you too, Mary, I love you too.

With wedding thoughts more intense,

she dreamed of that day,

surely coming very soon.

  .

Months had passed then her thoughts quickly changed.

  .

She'd have to ask and ask she did.

Veiled at first with feigned humor,

talk about the rabbit dying.

Made no sense to John. Come, come to me,

I'll get you a new one tomorrow.

Johnny, it isn't a real rabbit.  

No, my test said "a happy day is coming."

  .

Later that night when John was with the guys,

they told him what she had meant.  

Oh damn, O da...  He texted her that night,

gibberish about a fast job change in another town.

I'll text you when I land and

send you some money soon when I can.

 .

I am sorry. Be seeing you.

  .

Mary's note they found.

Nothing in it made much sense. 

One line "to John,"

 .

"Was there one, even one grain of love?"
 .

- - - - - -

. 

Photo, Poem Copyright, ©  2011, 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

- I'm linked with Kerry at the Real Toads, Sunday Mini-Challenge: In Other Words (Link)

- There Kerry picked a couple of novels, I am writing mine in honor of her second selection,

A Grain of Wheat, a novel by Kenyan novelist Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o

and again Monday

- with Kerry at the Real Toads, Open Link Monday (Link)

 

Open Link Monday -- Abou Ben Adhem

. . . [please click on the picture to make it a bit larger]

. . . . . . . . [ -- I am the boy in the back row]

 

Abou Ben Adhem

 

By Leigh Hunt 1784–1859 Leigh Hunt

 

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)

Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,

And saw, within the moonlight in his room,

Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,

An angel writing in a book of gold:—

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,

And to the presence in the room he said,

"What writest thou?"—The vision raised its head,

And with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."

"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"

Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,

But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then,

Write me as one that loves his fellow men."

 

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

It came again with a great wakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blest,

And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest

Poem copied from the Poetry Foundation, http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173698

The picture above was my annual "school picture."  I believe that I was in the fifth grade, our school taught eight grades but some were empty.  I was five when I started.  My sister, Lois (link), is front row right, standing near the teacher.  She was four or five, depending on when the picture was taken, and had started in the first grade.

This was the second and longer poem that I had ever memorized. (My first poem memorized was "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer).
I had come to like this poem and somehow I applied it to my life.  It probably calmed for life some of my bad side bones and helped set my personality. 

The poem was in an old poetry book that I found rummaging upstairs in an unused bookcase.  The bookcase had belonged to my father's aunt, Aunt Minnie. The book was either hers or my mom's from her younger days.
I still have that little book, a paperback, someplace packed away for now.

Here is some author material the bottom from the bottom of the page linked to above:

"RELATED CONTENT

Discover this poem’s context and related poetry, articles, and media.

Poet - Leigh Hunt 1784–1859

POET’S REGION - England

SCHOOL / PERIOD - Romantic

Subjects - Religion, God & the Divine

Poetic Terms - Couplet"
_ _ _ _ _

Monday, I am linked with Kerry at the Real Toads, Open Link Monday (link)

Her Challenge: "Do you have a poem that you would like to share with us today? (see above) Please link up a piece of your choice and join us in reading and responding to the best of online poetry. (see below)"
_ _ _ _ _
 

Abou Ben Adhem
Leigh Hunt, my inspiration
Stayed with me for life
Old book of poetry mine
One treasure never stolen

Tanka poem and School picture Copyright, © 2014, 2010, Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Museuming -- Flash 55

Museuming  

Day when he got to Albi,

Expectations running high,

Was ready to get his fill.

 

His fill of Henri Lautrec,

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.

Little problem, parking space.

 

Henri was to wait his turn

For want of a parking space.

Lautrec, had his fill, and then,

 

Paul Cézanne surprise for him

in Albi's Lautrec Museum

- - - - -

Photos Copyright, © 2009 Jimmiehov (link) and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Today I am linked with Fireblossom at the Real Toads, Flash Fiction 55 (link)

Monday, I am linked with the Real Toads, Open Link Monday (link)

 

Her challenge:  "write a poem (I chose this) or a piece of flash fiction (next time again), about any subject, and in any form, as long as it is comes to exactly 55 words!"

Well, with the title I am sitting at exactly 55 words.  Classified as fiction, it very well could be true.  I know.  [Scrunched face.]

You don't need to tell me, I know that museum is not a verb.  But here, using poetic license, I made Museuming to be one.  For more Lautrec posts, click here, for a little of our Spring 2009 Europe Vacation click here.
As are other museums with all museums having clasics, the old masters works, Allbi's (France) Lautrec Museum is a place to spend at least half a day (link).   I never tire of 'museuming' in Europe's old art museums.

 

Paul Cézanne surprise

(click on any picture for larger view)

Open-Link-Mondays -- The Sun

The day the sun didn't rise

An ordinary day it seemed to be

The star lights were put out, all wicks were snuffed

Morning dew on grass, deer's last time for wet

.

Ducks in  the pond, diving for the big fish

Commuters' long drives were nearly ended

Darker than norm this day, street lights still lit

.

Calling from beyond, Sun was sleeping in

Commerce came to a halt, greed froze in place

Couldn't see in dark, folk went back to bed

.
- - - - -
.

Photos and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

.

Today I'm linked with  Kerry O'Connor  at the Real Toads, Open Link Monday (link)

Love (# 1) (reposted, formerly June 3, 2010)

Magaly talked of her first poem. My assignment, the first, over at One Single Impression--now dormant--was to write a love poem. I had never written one so I Googled for instructions.

I linked this poem with her, Magaly, at the Real Toads, Monday Open Link (link)

These, which are integrated into my work, served me, the novice, just fine. (I had dabbled before but not published, not even on-line.)
The picture I included, it was our wedding photo.  All family, except my best man.

Mr. and Mrs. Jim's wedding picture
- - -
They said to write a love poem

To my sweetest, my blossom true
wanting to write you a love poem
telling you how much I love you
fingers to keys sweet words to come
.
tell how you felt when first you saw her
I will try to write a love poem

When first we met my heart went wild
no tender little pitty-pat
but one long jolt you caused, my child,
a bolt from the blue hit my chest
.
how you knew it was her you loved
It came one day into my head
.
Listen to my arrow pierced heart
my life will never be the same
Dan Cupid hit me on the mark
that arrow had your name

tell now about being with her

My life is whole a life complete
I need you always by my side
dearer than chocolate you're so sweet
love you always will you're my pride

are you happy with what you wrote?
.
If I could only write a poem
if I had the sweet words I felt
if I could now put them to print
there would be a love poem for you

discarded thoughts that didn't fit?

Many thoughts I dropped one thing sure
I love you to Heaven above
you can do no wrong you're so pure
I can't live without you my love

- - -

Photo and Poem Copyright
© 2010 Jimmiehov
All Rights Reserved

Note:  Now that I've posted this one I did find some other poems that I wrote and posted for One Single Impression.  The first one that I can find is about an outhouse, which way for ladies and which for the men. 

It was titled "Doorway".  (link)  I wrote that one back on June 29, 2008.  There were also some more after that and before the one I posted again here today. (first posted this on link)

Ooma mow mow
Prompt suggested by Melanie at Cassiopeia Rises

I love her

Find more poems at One Single Impression using "Love" as prompt