Best Dime Poems
Devils deadly dime
The sign said no grown-up at the playground.
Tripping on a penny, like a mime!
My hand is in my pocket with the dime I found.
Its all mine, I asked for the devils hand that time.
Echoes in my head, bounded by a screaming sound.
Paying for a forgotten crime,
on what comes around goes around.
A prison with greed that carries an evil musical chime.
Jumping off the merry-go-round!
Encouraged by the devil,
the pleasure of his deadly nursery rhyme.
Now the world is measured by my blood level.
The devils delight feasted on my youth before I hit my prime.
Bashing my mind, with thoughts implanted by evil.
Entering the day with no beauty to my sublime.
Begging him to remove this anvil!
He laughed while he cursed me with a favor for a favor.
A fallout so violently in this world not civil.
One can only lust on the taste that only he can savor.
Hanging out by the swings wounding me with prey,
on two victims to his delicious flavor.
I climb my way to teach a lesson in hate not love.
Two siblings who always scream for each other.
Giggling as I offered each a push and a shove.
Stopping they give each other a big hug.
Defeating and proving love is a stronger disease
The devil wicked eyes looking at me like a bug.
Clawing at my inner guts with remorse that he will win this war.
Until another day one skips the penny,
and begs a poor fool like the devil for his dime.
Tossing heads for his tail when times hits rock bottom.
I will stray away from his deadly reaction time.
He will not own my soul so freak'em,
and his greedy deadly beg of a dime.
by;pd
I was three the first time i remember
seeing mamas bedroom walls
springtime colors on her quilt
Though it really could of been December
I don't remember much at all
I have to thank god for that
except for his soft footsteps down the hall
not Gods cause he was still asleep
I didn't know enough to be afraid, YET
He came in the room, that's when I still loved him
then I was on the bed, daddy loves you
daddy saying shh shh, don't talk
we're hiding from mama, I giggled
and then the pain, stop it shaunda, be quiet
be a quiet girl and I'll give you a dime
I didn't like it one bit or the sounds either
I turned my head and saw mamas messy shoes in her closet
I loved mamas shoes and I always put them in a row
in her closet nice and neat
she always gave me a nickel and said very good Shaunda
that's when I still loved her
and she still loved me
I watched the shoes through the pain thinking
when daddies done I'm gonna straighten those shoes
all in a row so mama will give me a nickel
and why do dimes hurt so bad
All this running through my head laying on her bed
while the sounds and the pain intermingle
in my body and mind while wondering
why Karrie gets to go to school
and why oh why can't I be five too
Ahh. The joy of childhood memories uncensored
I was reminiscin' the other day about times that were more sublime,
And got to thinkin' about those old stores called Kresge's Five and Dime.
I recall browsin' through Kresge's Stores as a lad with Mom and Dad.
There ain't no more Kresge's Stores as far as I know and that is very sad.
There was a Kresge's in every sleepy town along Main Street.
Sittin' on a stool at the lunch counter was always a special treat.
Munchin' on a hotdog and tater chips and then a slab of cherry pie,
Or maybe a sundae concocted by the soda jerk would lighten up my eye!
Notions galore were displayed on tables, bins, racks and shelves.
Friendly clerks stood by to help but folks generally helped themselves.
The cashier put yer money in a tube that sailed off into space,
And in a trice returned yer change from some mysterious place!
I recall the squeaky wooden floors and visitin' the store at Christmas time,
When Santa Claus doled out bags of candy to kids at each Five and Dime.
Alas, those neighborhood stores have been replaced by huge national chains,
And only pleasant memories of Kresge's Five and Dime Stores remains.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
I only have a nickel and a dime
I can't take you out for lunch
Are you still mine?
I cannot buy you pretty rings of gold
To compliment that hand I love to hold
I am not a part of any high class clubs
But I'm passionate
And I can give you love
I love you
More then cash or anything
I love you
More then serenades could sing
I love you
Higher then a mountains peak
I love you
Deeper then an oceans wreath
I love you
Brighter then the sun can shine
But I only have a nickel and a dime
By Kyle Ezra Kriticos
Every year when taxes are due, I pay mine to the full,
Even though some other people call it a bunch of bull.
Some don't pay their taxes for there is an aberration.
As time goes by they holler, "Statute of Limitation".
They live in a life of luxury, these entitled few,
Expecting us to pay their way, since that is what we do.
The Statute of Limitation gives them a lucky break.
Never feeling that they owe, they just take, and take, and take.
And though the law may state, 'This tax is no longer in play',
An honest person loves this Land, and pays it anyway.
(And this applies to Everyone)
The Cashier at the 5 and Dime
She does not wear paint on her face.
I noticed, there is no war to be found,
around the corners of her mouth...
only a soft crease,
where a smile has worn a path,
worth retracing...
again and again...
with my lips.
There is no spray in her hair,
she does not smell like a fancy place.
When I passed her in church,
the scent of wild coconuts
and fresh Georgia peaches...
came to me.
It was like a perfume cloud,
from the downwind side,
near the gates of Heaven,
surely.
I can not remember what she wore.
Or, even what she will wear the next I see her.
I can not take my eyes from her very being,
the whole sense of what she is,
lights up the room,
and brings the sunshine inside,
on every gray day.
On sunny days,
rays of gold seem to radiate,
from the ends of her hair.
I am taken,
to somewhere I dare not be,
and pray never to come back from,
ever...
again.
I step up and place my items on the belt.
I have been here a few times,
and no one has said a thing.
But truly, I need...
one more item,
to get one more look,
to see her one more time,
then...
I will be fine.
Time waits for no one. Isn’t that great?
If it waited on us, it would end up too late.
We think we’re the master of our time controlled realm,
But Time is the faster man at the helm.
What we witness now is already gone.
When? Where? and How? is the ultimate con.
When we’re young and naïve, we set ourselves up,
For we often believe we can measure the cup.
We sip and we dine never hearing the chime,
Never drawing the line between work and home time.
And what of the child we lose to the hours
Of days and months filed in Time’s secret towers?
We wake to each day. Isn’t it great?
And know we rely on Time’s ceaseless wake.
Take nothing for granted. Time is the king.
It’s what poets have ranted and what we all sing.
Life is for living. Don’t worry about time.
Ask what you’re giving. Hand someone a dime.
Keep hold of your dreams and be sure that you share.
Send loved ones some moonbeams, safe journeys through prayer.
“Time waits for no one” does not have to be
The mantra that traps you, but sets you free.
You have a dream of love that didn't last.
You search for something wrong, you might have done.
The lockets, half a heart, were custom cast,
The polished gold assured no end would come.
You never knew we were a dime romance.
You felt the Earth was orbiting for me.
With suitcase packed, without a backward glance,
I locked my heart, a twist to break the key.
Exhilaration faded to regret,
As truth, the uninvited one, swept through.
How blind your were, this loving me, you met.
For you embraced a me you never knew.
Received a letter, no return address
I soaked it thoroughly. The pink turned brown.
I hoped she sensed the fire, my last redress
And felt each cinder crashing to the ground.
Gene Bourne
04-29-14
.
A penny for your thoughts
Nine times you lied
I no longer give a dime
beautiful women
walking fast in rows of ten
March of Dimes, ya' heard
Once upon a time
I gave a bum a dime
Dropped it in his tin can
I should have ran
He grinned a grin
Filled with sin
Weapon after weapon
He ran me through
First blunt
Then sharp
Left me in the alley to die
Death - What a single dime can buy
Harrison's Five and Dime, those wooden floors
you had were so grand and creaky.
Going up and down your small isles
passing my time while checking out
your shelves of fine goods.
Coming to the toy soldiers,
cowboys and indians which ones
should I buy today, or maybe all
of them. Spying the model cars
and planes was a favorite of mine.
Loved those jet planes,
would play with them for hours.
You really weren't a Five and Dime
there were a lot of things in here
way over a dime. We always just called
you a dime store. Ben Franklin five and
dime was your competitor, but I did most
of my business with yor. Sometimes I bought
me a comic or two or just some baseball
cards, loved the smell the gum left on the cards
that was still there many years later.
Your store was a little kid's dream world
after my mom gave me my money for
my chores that I had done all week,
i would go up there and spend hours
until I found something I wanted.
You're no longer there anymore
like a lot of things are not here anymore,
memories are still here and i will hold
them in my heart until day I die.
Written 8-15-11
There was once upon a time,
Unexpectedly, a very small dime.
He did not do much of anything,
Apart from gazing.
He just stared longingly at the sky,
Counting the clouds that drifted by.
Dear old Dime, not very bright,
He did not shine, not a ray of light.
Dark and rusty,
Old and dirty.
Everyone did not care,
Though they could use him and buy a bear.
They did not want to touch,
This old thing of such.
They did not want to feel.
That sick disgusting bill.
He was old, rusty and dim,
But he hated the way man treated him.
Have you ever heard of the eighty twenty rule
Well that was created for a lot of us fools
In a relationship you re only getting eighty percent
Of what you really need
Even though there are twenty percent out there
That might look good indeed
Stop and think are things really that bad
To perhaps jeopardize the best thing you ever had
Are things really that out of line
Where you can afford to throw away a dollar
Just to chase a dime
Is it worth trading the a simple life for a life of hell
Just because you thought you wanted a piece of tail
Yea temptation will catch your eye
That doesn’t means the grass is greener on the other side
So If you signed up to cherish honor and obey
You cant change your mind when something new comes your way
Maybe your relationship is not what you want it to be
But before you start another let that one free
And once you're out there you will see
Why there is so much space between eighty and twenty
That twenty might be great but think to yourself
Once that five minutes is over what do you have left
To late you're left crying thinking about the facts
How badly you wish you could get that eighty percent back
there will always be temptation from time to time
but don't throw away a dollar trying to chase down a dime
Life
Is a Dime a Dance
Written: by Tom Wright
February 2015
For an aging person life is a notebook
With pages yellowed by time,
Hours are spent looking hinder
At the labyrinth of days long past,
Seeking those dog eared pages,
That memory holds hostage;
Current days, stand all like winter,
Generally grey, and mostly alike;
As years languish and perish,
We become a whisper on the sea of life.
Occasionally reality slaps our faces
To remind us, it’s a dime a dance,
And we dance to the music that’s playing.
Then, only when dimes are expended,
And lights go out,
Is it over.