Sniffles and Sneezes

My throat is sore
My sinuses hurt
I’m wearing three layers
Under this shirt

My nose is running
I’m out of tissues
To name just a few
Of my current issues

Took Vitamin C
And got a flu shot
So why am I feeling
Like such total rot?

I’m a little perturbed
By this late winter bug
But that’s my excuse
To act like a slug

All Rights Reserved

Whimsical Wednesday with Jim Jackson

Whimsical Wednesdays With Friends Welcomes Jim Jackson

Whether you got A’s in math or F’s you are in for a treat! The fabulous Jim Jackson, author of the amazing Seamus McCree Mysteries and mathematician extraordinaire, is also a world class poet! Take it away Jim…

Whimsical Math

Let’s talk numbers, you and me.
Six: it’s as perfect as perfect can be.
Take its divisors: one, two, and three,
Add them together: six again. See?

Can you find the next one all on your own?
No fair cheating: Googling on your phone.
No rolling your eyes and letting out a groan.
Here’s a hint: weight in pounds of exactly two stone!

A stone equals fourteen pounds, multiply by two,
Gives you twenty-eight; let’s see if it’s true.
One, two, four, seven, fourteen make up our queue.
Twenty-eight is their sum; perfect numbers, adieu.

Are you up for a math trick designed just for you?
Multiply the first digit of your age by five –please do!
Now add three to that sum and multiply the total by two.
Check your work carefully to avoid a boo-boo.

Time to please add your last digit into the mix.
Remember that perfect number – the first one, you know, six?
Subtract it from the total and your age should appear.
But really, you don’t look a day over twenty-one, my dear.

Just in case my math did not translate well,
I’ll do it myself, just so you can tell,
If the trick really works without a headache.
Here’s the arithmetic I would have to make:

Sixty-five is my age, so multiplying six by five
Equals thirty. Plus three is the next piece of jive.
That sum times two is sixty-six, to which I add five
For seventy-one. Now less six and <poof>, sixty-five!

Here’s a trick with number reversals you might know.
I’ll give an example to help you follow the steps below.
Take any three digits zero to nine
And reverse them in order to make our design.

So 567 becomes 765; no need to curse.
Subtract the smaller from the larger: 198 in this verse.
Now reverse that number (981) and add them just so:
I guarantee the result is 1,089. What do you know?

An asterisk is needed to make the rules clear.
Leading zeros are necessary to include, I fear.
Start with 028 and the formula will steer
You to 1,089, if to the rules you adhere.

028 from 820 (its reverse, do you see?)
Yields 792. Add 297 and 1,089 it will be.
If the difference in numbers is less than one hundred
The leading zero is needed (in case you wondered).

For example, 574 reversed gives you 475.
The difference (99) needs the zero to survive.
Reversed it’s 990, now add them together.
Once again 1,089. We’re rolling in heather!

I see your eyes glazing, so I’ll stop this whimsy.
I know the rhymes were forced, and the rhythm was flimsy,
But admit in the comments if you were entertained.
Or tell me if you think this whole thing was harebrained.

Published with Permission of the Author
All Further Rights Reserved

James M. Jackson (Jim) authors a series featuring the financial crimes expert Seamus McCree. ANT FARM (2015), a prequel to BAD POLICY (2013) and CABIN FEVER (2014), won a Kindle Scout nomination. BAD POLICY won the Evan Marshall Fiction Makeover Contest whose criteria were the freshness and commerciality of the story and quality of the writing. Jim has also published an acclaimed book on contract bridge, ONE TRICK AT A TIME: How to start winning at bridge, as well as numerous short stories and essays.

Long ago, in a galaxy far away, Jim earned a BS in Mathematics and an MBA concentrating in finance. His work would have bored most people, but he’s always enjoyed the playful side of numbers and language as his poem today demonstrates.

To find out more about Jim, his writing and how to contact him, check out his website http://jamesmjackson.com

So what do you think, folks? Jim really is a world class poet, huh? When I invited my fellow Kindle Scout winner to guest on my little old blog I had NO idea. I’m sure you enjoyed the rhymes and the number games as much as I did. If so, please leave Jim a message below, and by all means, buy the man’s books!! And I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say, Thank You, Jim!

Bah Humbug

When Christmas approaches
The stores I avoid
Shopping-crazed crowds
Just make me annoyed

The Christmas tree hassle
I also don’t do
It takes too much space
And when you are through

All that undecorating
Needs to be done
Sorry, but I do not
Consider that fun

But before you decide
I’m a Scrooge through and through
One Christmas tradition
Each year thrills me anew

I like to take drives
To see Christmas lights
All the houses so happy
Now that’s a delight

I especially like families
Who go over the top
Like they started one day
And just couldn’t stop

I don’t try anything
Nearly so glorious
My balcony lights
Are not too uproarious

Just a simple statement
That I hope makes folks glad
And come undecorating day
I don’t have to be sad

All Rights Reserved

Make Room for Betty

You would think
That by now I’d learn
That in bed
When I toss and turn

Every toss gives
The cat more space
At every turn
She does replace

Where my legs were
Under the covers
With her own bulk
If she had her druthers

One tiny small spot
I’d be given
Betty the cat says
Now that’s livin’!

A queen-sized bed
Lets me stretch way, way out
But my poor human
Does tend to pout

She insists that she get
At least half of the bed
What silly ideas
Cindy gets in her head!

So she actually moves me
And I’m forced to share
And Cindy insists
That this is fair!

All rights reserved

Whimsical Wednesday: Betty’s Soul Mate by Penny

So Penny Hibshman has a new poem in response to our cat Betty.  Thanks Penny!

Betty has a soul mate
Her name is Abigail
Her internal clock
Is never known to fail.

To say that she is portly
Is truly being kind
For if she thought she’d lost a pound
She’d find it close behind.

She has a way of walking
That has to be a fluke
When you’re watching from behind
You’d swear she was “The Duke”.

She’ll waddle to the kitchen
Belly hanging low
When she makes a sudden stop
It wobbles to and fro.

When she thinks she’s getting fed
She gets so stimulated
I’ve never seen a whirling top
so well emulated.

She really does enjoy her food
She fussy on the timing
The fact she isn’t twice as big
Is really quite surprising

Fall back and then spring forward
you’ve heard the little rhyme
to help you with untimely woes
in daylight savings time.

That extra hour is handy
running late and in a crunch
But Abby’s only worry is
the lateness of her lunch.

Published with Permission of the Author
All Further Rights Reserved

Betty’s Lament

Betty the cat’s got
An internal alarm
Which she insists
Is greatly harmed

When we switch the clock
And lose Daylight Savings
Her stomach however
For dinner is craving

A whole hour before
I will let her eat
Resisting her pleas-
It is quite a feat

Forget what the clock says
Betty’s tummy cares not
She meows and meows
Cindy, why have you forgot?

It’s five o’clock somewhere
So feed me my dinner
Lest I become
More upset and way thinner

I’ll waste clear away
If the clock you obey
What must I do
For your resolve to be swayed?

But finally I feed her
What joy, what relief!
For Betty then stops
Meowing her grief

All Rights Reserved

Whimsical Wednesday: Hair Raising by Penny Hibshman

Whimsical Wednesday With Friends is back!

And with a splash! Penny Hibshman hits the nail on the head with her terrific ditty about a hairdo. Thanks, Penny!

Hair Raising
by Penny Hibshman

I walked into a new salon
and huddled by the door.
Heart in throat, eyes wide with fright,
I could stand my hair no more.

I edged up to the booking desk
stood rooted to the floor
“I’d like to get a little trim,
an inch, not any more.”

Mr. Michael took my hand
and led me to his chair,
The mirrored wall was to my back
He began to cut my hair

I watched him as his scissors flew
His face began to change
Eyes opened wide and slightly glazed
He looked a little strange.

I settled down and closed my eyes
the hair began to drop
I heard the scissors snip, snip, snip
I thought they’d never stop.

The chatter of the scissors paused
I thought that he was through
I raised a hand to check the length
He barked a “Please don’t move”.

I paused with hand still in mid-air
Then let it slowly fall
My friend had said, “He’s really good!”
to worry to at all.

I’ve heard that uttered many times
and lived to feel regret
A new salon is rather like
a bad game of roulette.

Suddenly the chair turned round
I had to sneak a peek.
What I saw made my jaw drop
I gave a ghastly shriek.

Like a ewe I had been shorn
my hair was such a fright.
Any soldier would be proud
I had a “high and tight”!

Women have a rule of thumb
You’ve heard it this I know.
No matter what they do to it
Your hair will always grow!

Published with Permission of the Author
All Further Rights Reserved

Sports Report

Some people sled
And some people ski
But anything with snow?
That’s just not for me

Some people use rackets
To hit balls and play tennis
But watch me aim a ball?
Trust me, I’m a menace

What about soccer
Or other team-like sports?
Nope, not for me, thanks
They put me out of sorts

Golf looked oh so civilized
Until I tried to play
And realized that at home
Is where I should have stayed

I like to exercise
But athletic I am not
Eye-hand coordination
Is something I don’t got

The best activity for me
Is to take a vigorous walk
At any high-falutin’ games
My skill set simply balks

All Rights Reserved

I’m Ba-ack

A bad poem each week
Was always the plan
Because of dumb poetry
I am a big fan

I kept up the pace
For many a year
With poems so stupid
They’d bring you to tears

But this past month
I’ve been a bit lazy
My rhyming mechanism
Has been rather hazy

But today I renew
My bad poetry vow
So that each new week
You can read and say Wow!

To continue her blog
She really is nuts
Writing poetry so awful?
It must take some guts

But courage or delusions
My hobby is back
This blog will continue
Though talent I lack

I’m here to tell you
Whatever the reason
At this blog it’s always
Bad poetry season!

All Rights Reserved

Organized, Not

There is nothing
That annoys me more
Than losing something
That I was sure

I had set aside
In a safe spot
I’ll remember that!
But then I forgot

Months or days later
I search for the thing
But my bad memory
No bells does it ring

Finally I find
Whatever was missing
But never before
Bad words I get hissing

I put it there?
Surely I jest
That’s the last place I’d look
On my stupid-thing quest!

All Rights Reserved