ROCKS with IMAYO form ~~ a poem for dVerse MTB

  Toto's Rock Garden

 

'Cause my dog loves a garden -

I made one for him 

with pretty rocks but there's no -

not one, cockle shell 

but only rocks, pretty rocks -

painted bright colors 

and now we're looking for him -

a wee white fairy 

_ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2017 (bottom picture) and 2023 respectively, All Rights Reserved -- Bottom picture of Katrin credits here

 - I'm linked with Laura Bloomberry at dVerse MTB Rocking the IMAYO , 

https://dversepoets.com/2023/07/13/mtb-rocking-the-imayo/  

 - Click here to read other writers' works with ROCKS and using the IMAYO form's one long sentence poem

.. 

Rocks I know and ...

Rocks I know and some I don't 

Rocks are my friends, that wasn't always so

When I was young and in college my prof

Said to me, "if you'd have come more often

You would have passed mineralogy class" 

So I failed. Even so I still like rocks

I find them hiding in places I've been

From a friend one may come my way to stay

Dull or bright, to me they are pretty souls 

Now I'll introduce a few of my pets

Several in my fold have Orient blood

Polished smooth I plucked from clear river beds

Lakeside beaches wet and shining they called 

Some black, volcanic from a lava flow

Hawaii took for granted; my cherished

Mount St. Helens gray pumice rock, rolled down

at birth, three months old came into my fold

 

Found along a path walking up the hill

Derelict, Athens Greece gave no respect

Ireland, Scotland, Isle of Man roosted

From Adriatic, Black, and Baltic seas

Mediterranean, Aegean, more

North Pole, South Pole, not--try Australia

One, large and green, I call to be Jadeite

Quartz, petrified wood, and fools gold abound 

One rock I've not, I want it so badly

It's on my bucket list--been there so long

Before I die it might come to my home

Big bucks I'll gladly spend, METEORITE

- - - - - -

Photo and Poem Copyright © 2014 Jimmiehov All Rights Reserved

I'm linked today with the Real Toads, Hannah's Transforming Friday

Some of my older rock and stone posts (link)

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 25, a Poem, Desert Art; or Exotic River Rocks

Desert Art;

 or Exotic River Rocks

 

Some like desert art,
hanging on their walls
 
The desert is nice
pretty to look at
But try living there
El Paso desert
 
five long dry hot years 
It'll grow on you?
Not so very much
Wall adornment's fine

 

Or take mountains' cool
In their streams you find
 
Nuggets to treasure
or a large jade rock
Green in the water
Matches trees on hills
 
When it dries at home
Door stop memories
Pale green to polish
another day that  
 
It may shine like jade
Jade it held within
Exotic memories
you savor, cherish


_ _ _ _ _ 

 - Photos and Poem Copyright © 2014, 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 - Photos: (they are mine, copied from my computer screen as referenced below)

Top: 
California Desert Art
Night Fires
By Agnes Pelton
http://www.californiadesertart.com/?p=226

Middle: Painting by Agnes Pelton
(Green Gems photo from Google) (link)

Bottom:  Photo by this Author, Jimmiehov, 2014
"Rocks know and some I don't"
http://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2014/03/rocks-i-know-and.html

Here: (Agnes Pelton's Studio photo)
Agnes Pelton Revival in Cathedral City
http://www.californiadesertart.com/?p=1018

 An additional link I found interesting, written by a collector of Agnes Pelton's work (with some pictures):
Bidding on Agnes Pelton
California Desert Art (link, same as below)
http://www.californiadesertart.com/?p=2323

Agnes Pelton work copied and displayed here as Fair Use Principles:

➮It is a historically significant artwork
➮The image is only being used for informational and educational purposes
➮The image is readily available on the internet
➮The image is a low resolution copy of the original artwork and is unsuitable for commercial use

- - - - - -

 - I'm linked with  Kerry O'Connor at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, “AThe Tuesday Platform , http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-tuesday-platform_25.html 

  --- - - and     - also to Day Twenty-five of NaPoWriMo,  http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-five-3/

  - The instructions from Kerry O'Connor:  "The artist I am featuring today is Agnes Lawrence Pelton (1881–1961). To visit the WikiArt gallery of some of her paintings, click HERE. ... "
 - I lived in El Paso, Texas, in the late 50's and early 60's while in the U.S. Army.  The city was smaller then, Juarez was friendly, it actually did grow on me.  The saying is that it will take two years for a person to like it.  Four of or five kids were born there.
.

Poem for Pavement Walking

"Under the pavement the dirt is dreaming of grass." — Wendell Berry

 

My walk is paved 

My walk is paved in many ways 

Some I talk about some I don't 

Of the latter here I'll tell not 

Look and listen my pavement shows

Reds pinks and yellows of romance 

Spent blossoms pave my favorite paths 

 Comes a thistle with bristling stalk

Be careful smell the good, nice red bloom

Rocks and stones scattered here and there

Even a petal in ones shoe

Causes much grief stop get it out

Kick or throw a stone up the path

Look for dull coins along the way

Half buried spend as good as mint

Six walks may buy a pint of grog

Help forget the potholes and bumps 

Then there's foot deep errant water

Clear, cleanses sandals loosens glue

Puts muddy water in your shoe 

Soggy mess makes the baby cry 

  

Comes a crack in the pavement  

Best of all will be a clover 

It grows in the crack, a blessing 

Pretty pink flowers every day 

Kids trying to find it's four leaves 

 

What all comes with our pavement 

Can we make best of rocks and stones 

Coins or potholes water shoe wash 

Or a crack with four leaf clover  

 

Just maybe 

Wish for one 

  _ _ _ 

 -  Poem and Photos Copyright,  Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Sanaa Rizv at Weekly Scribbles,  at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/07/weekly-scribblings-26-pavement.html?m=1

Pictures were taken at one of the places Mrs Jim and I walk, the bottom was during a sidewalk stroll headed to downtown at Killarney, Ireland. (link to pink flowered)

A Special Place -- Weekly Scribblings

 Place(s) special to me; I was asked to tell 

Across the nation, all fifty states 

Across the seas we saw 

Six continents we walked 

Antarctica was near  

Arctic Circle yes

But my mind returned 

From those far away

My mind came back 

Back to one evening 

To one special place 

Now nine hundred miles away 

And more time ago than I tell 

Beside a garage in an alley 

The alley's driveway 

Deep in the suburbs 

I was about nineteen 

Or a little less 

She was about the same 

Halloween rocks younger 

adults would throw 

Judge who was mean to us young 

Garage windows break 

Car lights were off 

She got out 

Then came back 

Girls I didn't understand 

In all their ways 

We stayed long 

Don't remember how much time 

We left it like it was 

Nothing thrown

No cans, bottles or rocks 

The garage and alley 

I will always remember 

My dear friend as well 

 - - - 

(She loaned me her downtown apartment one Thanksgiving weekend when I was staying in town.  I've lost track of her now, neither google nor facebook know whereabouts either.)

(This was in Lincoln, Nebraska, I had dropped out of college after a year and a half, three semesters.  My life, sleeping in rented rooms, became a job in the watch factory and two other part time ones, a nice two-year-old car hopped up to very fast, a race car driver friend who asked me to be in his pit crew  and lots of friends.) 

 - - -  

The garage now? 

Is it still there? 

I don't know I don't care 

Does she remember 

The place the time 

To me that special place,

Was it special to her? 

Does she still remember too 

Does she remember me 

Was that place ever special to her 

I hope it was 

I hope she does 

I hope she remembers me 

I hope, if she's still alive 

I come to her mind 

and

that first time we were there 

first time we dated 

All this was special to me 

There . . .

 - - - 

 - Poem and Photos Copyright,  Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Rosemary as she was hosting this week's Pantry Party #68 ,    https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/05/weekly-scribblings-68-where-are-you.html?m=1

 - In her instructions Rosemary asked us to describe or tell about a place or places very special to us.  This one is super special to me.

Stones, Tell Me Your Stories -- Open Link Monday

.
The stones will tell
.
The stones will tell. Tell their stories to you, tell them to me.
Listen closely to their chatter,
not unlike the proverbial seashell's whispering. 
So then, tell us of your origin, where you were born,
who was your daddy.
Tell us of your birth like none of us humans can.
Will you relate to a celebrity,
or to the hobo who sleeps under the tree.
.
Tell us of your learning,
an experience void of the books and computers.
Have you had an experience of romance?  
Or are you hard sterile beings devoid of desire to love and propagate.
Do you have family?
Are there peals of children's laughter ringing in your ears?
Is there pride of family and kin?
Heritage beckons, be it Irish, German, or African, is that what you tell?
.
Tell us, was your growing up, as we suspect, a process of division?
A part here, another there.
Where are those parts, sitting on a mountain high,
lolling on the seas' edges somewhere,
or buried under tons of fertile earth?
Will they remember their days with you, can they tell?
Tragic separation for you, how was it for them?
Will you ramble on of those offspring with your friends?  
And will you publish, tell your tales with us on Monday mornings?
.

.
- - - - - -
.
Photos and Poem Copyright © 2014 Jimmiehov. All Rights Reserved
.
Linked today with the Real Toads, Open Link Mondays with Marian
.
Note:
The top picture shows the river rock bed surrounding our home. This view is off the back porch, the dog is Katrin, our French toy poodle.
The bottom picture has five rocks that I collected on my travels. In the center is a lava rock I found near the base of Mount St. Helens shortly after its eruption in May 1980. The four rocks encircling it I found in a river bed when we traveled west beyond the blue horizon in 2001. The four are very bright and pretty when wet.

One Single Impression: Smoke

Remember When

where there's fire there's smoke
us kids on the loose in town
thousand eyes watching
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Don't Remember When

smokey bar in town
whiskey sours -- rye on the rocks
he don't like the smoke

whiff and sniff the air
much cleaner breath found next door
no one here he finds

lonesome -- on the town
back he goes cigar in mouth
smoke rings now he blows
sips fine bourbon laced with gin
sicker than a louse he got

puked his guts all night
he'll blame it on the cigar
'twas smoke done him in

Copyright © 2009 Jimmiehov. All Rights Reserved

Tag: One Single Impression Smoke is this week's prompt
Brought by Deborah Godin of the The Cloud Messinger blogTag: Jim's OSI
Also on May 5, 2015, I linked this post with Kerry O'Connor
at the Real Toads, The Tuesday Platform

Painting is easy when you don’t know how, but very difficult when you do. Edgar Dégas
The same may go for poetry? (whatever, I enjoy painting with the words!)

Artistic Challenge Poem, Ruby

Ruby was, Ruby is

Ruby is my stone, Ruby was my love

I didn't pick her, Ruby picked moi

Ruby was keen on me when I was young

Not old in years, but older than her years

 

We'd known each other, it seemed a long while

Then that night, one that boys do remember 

Ruby's gone away, no way I'll find her

Though Ruby picked me, I didn't pick her

 

She left a rock, rock no one else can have
Placed near my heart I keep it there for her

- - - - - -

Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Picture courtesy Wikipedia, picture link,  http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/0/0d/Ruby_cristal.jpg/640px-Ruby_cristal.jpg (Wikipedia Ruby Article link)

- - - - - 

 

Today I'm linked with Margaret at the Real Toads, Artistic Interpretation (Link)

 

Margaret challenged us to "respond to the images below [a wide array of crystalline rocks] in any way you like.  For this challenge I do require a new poem."

 

There is no one in my life named Ruby.  I do not 'kiss and tell'.  In case you wonder, my birthstone is Opal but I would not pick it for a poem like this; Opal is my mother's middle name.

Fallen in a hole? ~~ a Poem for Sunday

Have You Ever

Has anyone ask you, "Have you ever ...?"
Most times embarrassing to say the least

Fallen in a hole, stuck, couldn't get out?
"Well, yes, there was that one time, Army time
We were out on bivouac, night compass test
Released on a prairie hill, no moonlight"

"Did I return to camp, finding my way?
Not exactly, the compass didn't show
Didn't show the lovely creek, hill's bottom
I knew it was there, follow it to camp"

"Problem was, I didn't plan, compass failed
Failed to show the steep crevasse in its bank
Down into the fissure I went, fell hard
No one near to hear my cries, cries for help"

"Thoughts aplenty came and went, coyotes howled
Hours later moon came out, I could see
The cleft was steep, no way could I climb out
Bullhorn called my name, I called 'Over here!'"

Buddies still ask, teasingly, of my fall
Of the chasm, abyss, the crack; how deep
"Once but no more, a typewriter's for me"

Typewriter photo copyright 2012 (Link),
Gateway computer photo copyright 2008 (Link), and
Poem Copyright © 2016 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

I am linked with the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads,
 to   Outlawyer (a.k.a. "K" or Karin) at Weekend Mini-Challenge - Trying "No More" ; and
 to   Kerry O'Connor  at Kerry Says ~ Let's Visit the Family

 - Outlawyer wants to us write a poem with a theme or subtheme of "No More" while
 - Kerry wants us to use a "word family, could be such as one finds in a Thesaurus, namely synonyms and antonyms (Those more or less fortunate cousins and prodigal siblings)."

I used a family of synonyms for the word 'Crevasse'.  My words within the poem are in Red Italacs. 

synonyms:

chasm, abyss, fissure, cleft, crack, split, breach, rift, hole, cavity "loose rocks fell into the crevasse" (reference Google. Search 'crevasse synonym')

Note:  Much of this tale is true or nearly true.  I never ever used a compass again in the Army and they did give me a typewriter as a "Clerk Typist" MOS.