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Take A Penny, Leave A Penny

 You've seen them.  Those little trays on the store counter with pennies in them and often a sign saying “Take a penny, leave a penny”.  On occasion, I have dropped pennies in them, but until just recently, I never had occasion to need one.  Falling two cents short of my purchase price, I reached for another dollar, when the clerk said “I've got it” and added the two cents from the tray.  

It got me to thinking, which always gets me in trouble, how much those pennies are like poems,  lying there for the taking, waiting for someone to want them. Most people will not pick one up.  But when they want one, it is nice to know there is one they can have.

Some say pennies aren't worth much, but I beg to differ.  Their value varies from person to person. Poems are like that.  Their value is generally greatest to the person that offers it.  It is given for the most part to please someone else.  However, those that read them place their own value upon them. Some they are very thankful for, while others, well, not so much.  

The bottom line, to me at least, is a penny is always a penny and a poem is always a poem. It is what we do with it that makes the difference.  I know much that I write does not necessarily speak to the reader.  But to me, it's value does not decrease.  By the same token, I read some things and say “OK”  and move on, while others I keep.  It doesn't make any difference to me.  The author thinks it's great, and so do some readers.  That's as good as it gets.  If you don't care for it, like the penny, leave it there.  But if it fills a need, pick it up and use it.


Copyright © Bob Quigley | Year Posted 2012

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Take a Penny, Leave a Penny

You've seen them.  Those little trays on the store counter with pennies in them and often a sign saying “Take a penny, leave a penny”.  On occasion, I have dropped pennies in them, but until just recently, I never had occasion to need one.  Falling two cents short of my purchase price, I reached for another dollar, when the clerk said “I've got it” and added the two cents from the tray.  

Why bring that up you may ask.  Well, because I was thinking, which always gets me in trouble, how much those pennies are like reading poetry.  Most people do not avail themselves of poems that are lying there for the taking, waiting for someone to want them.  More people will probably leave poems then ever pick them up.  But when they want one, it is nice to know there is one they can have.

People say pennies aren't worth much, but I beg to differ.  Their value varies by how much you need or want it.  Poems are like that.  Their value is generally greatest to the person that offers it.  It is given for the soul purpose of pleasing someone else.  However, those that use them place their own value upon them. Some they are very thankful to get, while others, well, not so much.  

The bottom line, to me at least, is a penny is always a penny and a poem is always a poem. It is what we do with it that makes the difference.  I know that much that I write does not necessarily speak to the reader.  But to me, it's value does not decrease.  By the same token, I read some things and say “ok”  and move on, while others I keep.  It doesn't make any difference to me.  The author thinks it's great, and so do some readers.  That's as good as it gets.  If you don't like it, like the penny, leave it there.  But if it fills a need, pick it up and use it.

That's my two cents worth.


Copyright © Bob Quigley | Year Posted 2012




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ALL THINGS IN MODERATION

All things in moderation,
It's a good way to get along;
For life it seems is a smorgasbord,
Of work, play, strife and song.

How can we enjoy a meal,
If we only taste one dish?
How can we have the fullness of life,
With our mind set alone on one wish?

Life is a serious matter, that's true.
We must learn to earn our keep.
Common sense tells us that all things need,
To work, play, laugh and sleep.

Equal amounts of excitement and peace,
Are important to our very existence.
It's unhealthy for us to dwell on one thing,
And obsess with too much persistence.

It takes all the fun and joy out of life,
To worry too much and frown.
By the same token it isn't wise,
To try to be the town clown.

All things in moderation.
Listen, learn and be wise.
All things in moderation.
It's a good way to live a full life.





Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2017

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A Generation

A generation thats been inspired
Has left a lot to be desired
With sex and drugs on rampage wild
What have we taught to our child
What we thought was better for sure 
Has left our children unclean not pure
And we dont understand why
Why is skin all we see when we turn on the TV
And why is our happiness measured
By wealth by fame by all thats treasured 
Here on earth
Liberate us oh we cried now to us a dream has died
With our perception of what we were
Now in the minds our children stir
And wrestle with overwhelming thought
Of not questioning what is taught to them
Where does Christ fit in this equation
All we wanted was a sensation
So threw we Christ in the garbage can
Stood on our own denied his plan
Building houses in the sand
Trying hard to make our stand
We left a generation jaded why are you mad
Its what we created we did this to our foundation 
And subjected a generation to the need for self gratification
And we dont understand why why have our lusts 
Become more important than trust
And why by worldly things seduced
Leaving us only more confused
What ever happened to respect
And pain and anguish not to subject
Me Me Me is all I hear can you incline yourself
To a higher ear and listen
Listen to them cry out loud
Were a generation thats been bound
By your fleeting emotional ideals
Did you ever think of how wed feel
Trying to live in this mess you made for us
I see it all around me now 
The outcome of these ideals how we made a big mistake
So what can be the solution onward with the evolution
Of our minds what will we find
What will become of this nation
When the youth of this jaded generation
Grow up  why have we slid away
From morals we held from yesterday
When families had more to do 
Then running by or passing though
Can we ever reclaim the time
So far away from the mind 
And turn back our eyes on Christ Jesus
Im crying out for a world thats broken
Who profess love but by the same token
Blasphemy you and who you are
Their minds are there but hearts are far away
They do not understand
Why you came here as a man
And instead of acquiring knowledge theyre tiring
They do not persevere because they do not revere
Your name and who you are
Because they are far away
Jesus help us here I pray
To look back to our yesterday
And realize while we were professing
To be wise we became fools in disguise
Will we Lord make the choice to listen
To your still small voice and save this jaded generation


Copyright © kathy Crain | Year Posted 2006

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Saying The Unsayable


                                                                                                                                                                
I confess, there are many things I want to and should change.
But by the same token, there are things better left as I found them.
The moth doesn't need an  assist from me to make him  a better butterfly.
Oh, I just want to make it easier and better; but better by whose standard?
If the sign says, "beware of dog", why would I doubt and  not heed? Be wise. 
If the notice says, "Do not disturb", why would I even consider going right in?
It's never more true that fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
11232017 PS Contest, Unsayable, Nette Onclaud, 6P


Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2017

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Her Name Was Tamar

                                                                                                                                                

This Christmas, I am moved by the names in the genealogy of Jesus.                                            I find the Biblical genealogy of Israel and Jesus to be a very fascinating study.                                                                       There are four named women in the genealogy of Jesus and one name referenced. They are Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Mary: Bethsheba is referenced to as Urias' wife.

When one reads Tamar's story*, there is the feeling that what she did about her situation was over the top, out of culture, way out of line, and  out of the realm of Godliness. By the same token, if we put our feet in her shoes, during her time, we might feel the same  as she did regarding her plight and how to remedy the situation.  Her patience ran completely out, and she felt that her father-in-law Judah was not living up to his responsibility.  However, she did not bother to appeal to a greater earthly authority, nor did she bother to consult with The Lord.  She took matters into her own hands, and although her approach was deceitful, her outcome was acceptable to her.

Judah's verdict against her, by current human standards, seemed judgmental and harsh. But Tamar forced him to face the truth and to commute her sentence of death.  Tamar proved to be a force to be reckoned with.

Judah speaks to all of us who spend our lives seeking self gratification and running rampantly in our reckless self righteousness.  Tamar speaks volumes about taking matters into our own hands, seeking desperately to find a fix for what ails us. Both found themselves in the genealogy of 'The Christ" who presents Himself as the Savior of the whole world.  That includes, Judah, Tamar, you, and me.
12042017 PS                                                                                     
*Genesis 38


Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2017

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The Romance of Eternal Love Swims Upstream

This is the pinnacle of love 
The gentleness of a dove and the arrogance of lion
The romance of eternal love swims upstream
Love’s vengeance is always ready
The absence of her face embraces the fragrance of my patience
The grievance in my heart is the passion for the vengeance of love!

In my eternal frame of my mind 
The blind aspects of forbidden love scream from the roof
In eternity this love is bulletproof but a measure of time
Can destroy the complexity of this sanctuary!
This dungeon explodes in fragments of history
Opening the books of unconditional love
No culture can stop love’s vengeance

The substance of love’s vengeance is unexpected 
Two hearts are elected opening up a chapter that
Will go beyond the borders of commonality! 

History reflects the reality of love’s vengeance through humanity
By the same token love’s vengeance is always ready reflecting
The absence of her face which embraces the fragrance of my patience
The grievance in my heart is the passion for the vengeance of love!

Mark Frank

Copyright 2018



Copyright © Mark Frank | Year Posted 2018