Best Dollar Poems
It's quiet here - quiet in a way that catches me off guard. The tranquility is almost tangible, something I can touch and hold and wrap around myself. I can hear the pulse of faraway waves, the faint hum of the wind, the nonsensical call of distant seagulls. I can hear my own heartbeat, pounding along with the waves.
As I kick off my sandals, my spirit steps out of my body, leaving behind the material baggage of city life. The sand is soggy beneath my feet and I know my footprints will disappear when the sea rises, as if I were never here at all.
It's low tide, that magical time when the sea recedes to reveal the ocean floor. Grooves of sand catch pockets of water that are half-buried mirrors, reflecting pale blue sky and slices of violet sunlight that glitter like chipped diamond.
a vocal seagull
descends toward liquid skies –
reflections ripple
At low tide, a second beach emerges, stretching all the way across the bay to the opposite shore. I walk slowly, tasting salt on the breeze as it runs invisible fingers through my hair. Strands sweep across my face, catching in my eyelashes before fluttering free once more.
The beach is a dream catcher, snagging small treasures when the sea withdraws. And I am a child again, fascinated by the hermit crab retreating into his shell as I approach. I spot the dimpled surface of an urchin’s shell peeking out from wrinkled sand. Other shells are scattered across the beach, some upside down, exposing smooth, pearly souls.
a tiny starfish
drifts beneath placid water –
lost constellation
When I find a sand dollar, my breath catches. It’s perfectly whole, with smooth, rounded edges and clean, ivory skin. It’s heavy and light all at once, the flawless design at its center subtle and brilliant, like a delicate floral tattoo. How many hours had I spent here as a child, searching for this transitory coin?
My eyes fill with unexpected tears as my vision wavers behind distorted pools of grief. I’m half-blind until I blink, releasing salty rivers down my cheeks. Even then, my sight is murky.
My tears taste like the ocean and I think, suddenly: Whose tears fill the sea?
Written: November 4, 2015
For Charlotte's "Creative Haibuns" Contest
I aint got no money and I'm goin' down fast
My heads in the toilet and my life's in the trash
I wish I had a penny for every bad thought
I wish I could steal without gettin' caught
Wanna be able to buy my own smokes
I'm tired of "shorts" and two hit tokes
Don't wanna be a rich man don't wanna be a star
Don't need my own plane just wanna have a car
The beat goes on but the beat don't pay
I'm cryin' all night I'm tryin' all day
I dream and I wish I kneel and I pray
I know I gotta reason
Just gotta find a way
£ $
$ ££$> $ $ apPEARing as an APPLE,
$ $$$£ $ $ and APPeaLing as a PEAR,
$ / $
$/ she was PEAR and she was APPLE,
$ both sides of an APPLE-PEAR...
Well,
He said.
After all,
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
The Perfect Man
asked for Perfection;
But was SHE really real?
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
And was she really the only one
to love him and reveal the most
appealing APPLE of desire ... ...
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Or was it ... just for greed ?
That empty loving... ... !!!
All cruelty... ... !!!
SOUL TO SOUL
(Written for Mother Sandy Stone, whom I met in 1992.)
SOUL TO SOUL ***
The early morning call.
A sand dollar skitters in before its rushing wave.
A message bringing within a mosaic of tears,
long to explore.
The sand dollar rolling ahead
of a white-foaming wave.
Memory catapults her presence
again beside me.
The sand dolllar pauses on some wet sand
and slowly gives the sky a twirl.
Hers was an enfolding heart that Gave and Knew.
The sand dollar, yet to tip, receives
the brightness of the sun.
Hers was the company of light, soul to soul.
The sand dollar at last rests,
beyond any waves pulling it back.
The everywhere she went, already misses her.
The sand dollar, not thrilled by blank, blue sky,
Is joyous to see tiny fingers taking hold of its
circling side,
blocking the sun with such
a blessed giggling heart.
——————————————————————————
(c) sally young Eslinger 2/5/22
Glory to God
Is a dessert costing twenty-five grand what you want?
You can find it in a Manhattan Upper East Side restaurant.
Made with twenty-one types of chocolate and sprinkled gold leaf,
this decadent frozen mousse is something beyond belief.
It comes in a twenty-three carat diamond-encrusted gold dish.
If you found Aladdin’s lamp, would eating this be your wish?
This would be something to brag about and quite nice.
However, the restaurant has been closed due to cockroaches and mice.
From a news story found on AOL.com
This was written a few years ago. The restaurant has reopened since.
haiku or senryu
a million dollar question....
my hanged laptop
=================
By:kash poet
dollar for each pound you weigh,
many angered up at this
largest woman there, most kind
she was worth her weight
Are you dying to live
or living to die
The answer to that
is in your laugh or your cry
Complaining of his marriage for thirty-odd years
He highballed his eyeballs, comforting his tears
The barkeep asked, what's troubling you son?
He poured out his life; I'm finished! I'm done!
The woman I married has turned into a nag
What I wouldn't give to be rid of that hag
Cheer up my friend, I have what you need
I know of a man willing to do such a deed
Artie's his name, a factory blue collar
He enjoys his hobby, charging only a dollar
Introducing himself, he sat on a stool
Please dear sir, don't think me a fool
I need your help, if you're willing and able
Sliding his wife's picture across the bar table
The love we once shared is impossible to find
Everything she does drives peace from my mind
For a dollar Artie agreed to get rid of his mate
She shops Farmer's Mart tomorrow, precisely at eight
The very next morning she parked the front aisle
Artie gazed at her picture, then waited awhile
He stalked her while shopping the produce section
The near-empty store posed slight risk of detection
With a look to his left, and a quick glance to his right
He crept, then he leapt, choking with all of his might
She swooned and she swayed, crumpling to the floor
Artie mused to himself: Attention! Cleanup, aisle four
A stock boy rounded the corner, witnessing the mess
Artie likewise dispatched him, in a minute, or less
A customer screamed, seeing this deed, dark and vile
With hands around her throat, he added her to the pile
The manager called the cops, who put Artie in jail
There, he awaited trial, unable to post bail
The following day's headlines gave readers a start:
"Artie chokes three for a dollar, at local Farmer's Mart"
Dearest sand dollar, bring me piece
Bring me tomorrow and an ocean rose
Bring the wind that I might hear you
That I might know your wisdom
Dearest sand dollar, hold together
Give me hope and a friend on the beach
Give leave to shadows and jade
So I can smile at the hot sunshine
Dearest sand dollar, last forever
Leave me with nothing more to need
Leave me warm in the night
For I wish to grow fruit in my garden
Dearest sand dollar, break in the waves
Show me a fragment of perfection
Show me that the sun will always set
I want to be more than just another sand dollar in the sand
Inspiration:
Written when I was in search of my wife. I knew she was here somewhere; I was just
having trouble figuring out where exactly.
Another day without a dollar.
Another day, I’m not a scholar.
Makes me yell, scream and holler.
Another day without a dollar.
Another day, not one red cent.
Another day, must I repent?
What the hell, can’t pay the rent.
Another day, not one red cent.
Another day, and there’s no money.
Another day, and it’s not funny.
I can sell, as sweet as honey.
Another day, and there’s no money.
Another day, and I’m still broke.
Another day, no fire to stoke.
As I can tell, I’m not a bloke.
Another day, and I’m still broke.
Another day without a job.
Another day, I’m no slob.
I don’t smell, and I won’t rob.
Another day without a job.
Another day, when I’m on top.
Another day, this has to stop.
Things will gel, they’ll be a pop.
And on that day, I’’ll be on top.
With sand dollars in our pockets
we could live without a care;
I would lasso two sea horses;
we would ride them everywhere.
A simple life of freedom
would be yours and mine to share;
living solely for each other
on a silver strand somewhere.
Oh, the heartache men would barter
just to smell the sweet sea air
unencumbered by the burdens
that came upon them unaware.
They would trade a pile of money
For a day without fanfare,
Walking barefoot on white beaches--
just sand dollar millionaires.
Copyright, July 29, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
One dollar buys a million dollar dream.
Lotteries excite thoughts of esteem.
One day I bought a ticket,
My angst began to fidget.
Until I screamed; then went to redeem!
Silver Dollar
Eighteen-eighty-nine
Many millions touched your face
You are still a buck.
Our politicians to be told what for
Why they continue to take us to war
Is it for the oil and ores
To continue earth sores
Or for conglomerate greed galore