Best Legal Tender Poems


Premium Member Orchid Woman

Oh you know the type—
the orchid woman

a cosmopolitan who cosmo sips
between snips of gist
her charisma a starship —collides
with your star-full eyes
supernova for Casanova
her pouty lips knit a glamour-mag smile 
rows of sugar-white pearls
strung shiny straight
behind wet-red slicks of a Revlon stick
—cherry-juice bait dilates your want to taste

orchid woman’s glamorized mouth
for the masses to idolize
for many to fantasize
for her to tantalize
and advertise 
there’s no need to compromise
with you 
or your penny-candy conversation—
when beauty is legal tender
why invest in a waste of words?

ooh, orchid woman is  w-i-l-d
an exotic sun-tanned narcotic
erotic her despotic bloom 
quixotic your contemplation;
your entangled-limbs-expectation 
that this frilly filly blooms just for you
and oh!  just look how the honey makers buzz
watch the money-makers spend their sums—
worker bees blinded by her blonde neon 
fall in her wake…
or maybe ‘diamond pro’s’ bling 
stings and wrings their eyes
…who cares who falls..
when mere red rose adorations 
and sticky sap Hallmark incantations
bear not the fruits of 24-karat donations— 

Mmm! Mmm! 
her traipse does shake like mango jelly sweet
orchid woman’s long-stemmed catwalk walk
full-rounded  bouncy-buoyant  racy-lacy-ecstasy 
yup.. a thoroughbred— she’ll have you ridin’ high
to your credit and blame
you won’t feel her stiletto tips 
when she diva-gold-digs ya
as nothing more than a runway-ramp
all slinky-strut-hips  
and stay-the-night-vamp
till fly girl wields her strappy high-heels 
in a rhythmical click-clack 
all over the next middle-age stage

indeed! orchid woman
a hot-house hottie
fussy stuffy lil hussy— 
...too much water?
….not enough water?!
oh no! she’s wilted—
sniffle.. snivel.. “where did I go wrong?!!”

mm-hmm.. high maintenance is  s-u-c-h  a turn on…
yeah… orchid woman is  w-i-l-d  (eye roll..)
Categories: legal tender, beautiful, imagery, irony, power,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Thinking about Nevermind!

Thinking about Nevermind!

Skinny dipping soaked in bleach, albino by design 
Eyes burning, -Something in the way- future gives a sign
No pacifier needed, when remuneration’s on the line 
Keep calm it’s just rehearsal, will sink lower another time 

Born too soon, umbilical’s frayed by a toothless bite
Lure instills urge to swim, bypassing baptismal rite
-Come as you are- take a breath, be sure to stay airtight 
Nevermind the grunge, it’s less dirty with a soul of white

Zero in on bait, the watermark hides a sell by date
Perhaps-stay away- not much change at going rate 
Don’t lose sight of legal tender, it won’t always sate
Take a breather, rest assured, if lungs don’t reinflate 

Swimming in circles chasing what is never truly ours
Set in ripples, a reflection of mankind’s weakest hour ?
The dollar breaks, revealing depths we’ve yet to scour
In the murk, no god we trust, just a bill we all empower
Categories: legal tender, age, music, perspective,
Form: Ekphrasis

Premium Member Crypto Currency Is Just An Illusion

THE BANKSTERS LAUGHED WHEN THEY HEARD THE PLAN.
THIS PLAYED RIGHT IN TO THEIR HANDS.
DOES CRYPTOCURRENCY EVEN EXIST?
IS THIS SOMETHING I CAN GRIP IN MY FIST?
A CASHLESS SOCIETY, A MAGNIFICENT PLAN.
STEAL YOUR EARNINGS BECAUSE THEY CAN.
DON'T BUY SILVER DON'T BUY GOLD. 
IT'S NOT MONEY THE SHEEPLE WERE TOLD.
THE SHEEPLE RUSHED IN TO BE THE FIRST IN LINE.
I THOUGHT TO MYSELF. THEY DONE LOST THEIR MINDS.
PAY WITH YOUR PHONE. PAY ONLINE.
WITH CRYPTO CASH YOUR BOUND TO SAVE TIME.
BOUND WAS THE WORD. THEY WERE BOUND FOR SURE.
PLAYED LIKE SUCKERS WHO SWALLOWED THE LURE.
THE SHEEPLE WERE HOOKED, THEY HAD NO CHOICE.
THE BANKSTERS PLAN, HAD A GOVERNMENTS VOICE.
THEN ONE DAY, IT WAS GONE OVER NITE.
DON'T EVEN CRY FOUL, YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT.
IT WAS ALL ELECTRONIC. WITH NO PAPER TRAIL.
THE SHEEPLE WERE FORCED INTO PAYING THE BAIL.
WITH A FLIP OF THE SWITCH, THE CRYPTO WAS GONE.
JUST LIKE THE BANKSTERS PLANNED ALL ALONG.
TO THE BANKSTERS MY FRIENDS, WE ARE DEBT SLAVES
YET, IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE THAT WAY.
SILVER BARS YOU CAN GRIP WITH YOUR FIST.
SHOW THE BANKSTERS AND WATCH THEM GET PISSED.
SILVER EAGLES ARE LEGAL TENDER. 
FORCE THE BANKSTERS TO TAKE NOTE AND SURRENDER.


05202017
Categories: legal tender, corruption, freedom, identity, perspective,
Form: Light Verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Park the Car

Her love was a parking garage kiosk


Take your ticket when you enter

The money saved is legal tender 
                                                                                                                                   Places money in the slot

Park the car in open spot


Her love was a parking garage kiosk


Promptly throws her arms around him

Said she'd never ,ever liked him

Plants a kiss right on the lips

As she's  going leaves a tip


Her love's a parking garage kiosk


It's a different story different man 
                                                                                                                                      The miners gold is in the pan

Mounts with fury and with ease

Makes a slush fund if you please 


Kiosk


Drive the car and the yellow mustang

Go to the moon and drink some Tang

She feels no guilt or no sorrow

Pays the ticket we"ll meet tomorrow


Park the car
Categories: legal tender, allegory, funny, car, love,
Form: Free verse

Money

Money
Legal Tender
Desirable to man
Representing good and evil
Money
© John Boak  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: legal tender, people, social,
Form: Cinquain

Haiti

January twelfth two thousand and ten
   witnessed near annihilation and destruction 
   of the Haitian nation
whereby countless/ nameless individuals 
   e’en the strongest Herculean type men
   crushed by humungous slabs of building facades 
   practically demolishing every creation
since this island settled, which indigenous tribes 
   sought safety in any geologic den
   seeking solace and salvation from wrath of nature 
   by paying obeisance via oblation
perhaps giving credence to clear water 
   in tandem with rooster and hen
   that laid a golden egg, 
   especially as encroaching savages affected violation
particularly when Europeans foisted 
   forfeiture of land with primitive implement like pen
   no matter that travesty, trickery, mockery, 
   et cetera wrought humiliation
pleading invaders to forsake such actions 
   that rent asunder culture beseeched god when
   these brutish, nasty and (shortish) simians to cease desecration
 
yet the peoples of this dominion rose 
   from the ashes like the phoenix like bird
   no mattered genetic pool 
   underwent white washing from scouring influx
from western thumping proselytizers, 
   which alien beliefs hard to swallow like curd
   and basically bribery (with lustrous trinkets) 
   and those coveted legal tender bucks
foisted/ forced the unpleasant alternative 
   (wanton slaughter) to be clearly heard
   yet within the very fiber of tropical man grove persons 
   patiently lined up their ducks
and declared as the first African American peoples 
   INDEPENDENCE to be the word
   whence adulation, elation, inspiration akin to the sound winged fowl clucks
until the advent of the major earthquake 
   composed by this aging hippy type nerd
whereat remote control san voodoo affect every bloody word!
Categories: legal tender, abuse, anger, black african
Form: Elegiac Lyric


The Motorcycle Gang

The Motorcycle Gang

A venue was set
 Folks came from miles around
 Just to hear the music & get down
 The band was wailing on their guitar
 A solo was underway
 The brews were flowing
 Suddenly the leader of the pack rolled in
 It was the captain along with his faithful regime
 All those Harley's on a free spirit scene
 The smell of pot was everywhere what a blur
 It was all sex, drugs & rock and roll
 The gang circled around
 A white flag was flown
 There was a specific truce to part
 They were running with the wolf pack
 Feelings that there never coming back
 Grab a lady and take her for a swing
 They all carried a piece
 Such rebels on the burning strip
 A life on a pleasurable trip
 A soul based on fun out on the run
 No faith based all run on sight
 No laboring for the legal tender
 For that is there right
 Give the finger to the fuzz
 Leather pants with eyes in a trance
 Eyes filled with tombstones in their head
 Some have said it's the walking dead
 A rap sheet that runs a mile long
 Take it to the limit is there favorite song
 A free will with a free bird spirit intact
 They were all legends in there own right
 There the sons of thunder rolling clowns in life's big circus
Categories: legal tender, adventure, age, angel, anti
Form: Free verse

Free Cee For a Fraction of Forever

FOR A FRACTION OF          FOREVER

Do you ever feel through forever and remember me?
A vibrant me who vowed the Vienna we would visit on vacation
And share the space of one stool set aside serendipity
When your wishes would be the only legal tender
While tenderness tamed torment

Do you recall the message our souls united once sent?
Anyone who saw us knew
Anyone who saw us saw only you
For you commanded one’s stare
With golden hair woven of wonder
And eyes that call to mind a sky you soared when you were only ten
With a sun that wished you ever back to when

When fickle snowflakes flicked themselves off a forest’s foliage
And love arrived in a slay pulled by two dreams and one reality
Everything else
In actuality
Becomes a triviality
For triumph becomes trivial when it tries to outshine the aura of an angel
Be that angel you
Be that angel true
That I might flight to take with you
And make with you a home formed from the fantasy of forever
And the beating heart of a flower plucked from the prettiest part of perpetuity
And granted its grace unto you
A lady whose eyes birthed blue
And whose gaze grows by the phase of the moon
That syncopation and a sultry song might  swoon
But songs fade
Music becomes mistiness
And the band bows to the bewilderment of twilight
When, as surely as night falls
A question calls
Do you ever find me in the center of forever?
  © 2012  copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~
Categories: legal tender, angst, angel, angel, me,
Form: Free verse

I Don'T Envy You

I don't envy you

I don't envy you sister
I don't envy the fact that your eyes are too bright, painted with colors of the rainbow
How your lips look like they are smeared in a pot of warm blood
How your face look like a pot of brown earth plastered on a wall
How your fingers wear vulture claws; your toes too
How your gait erotically draw lustful souls into your coven of shameless fantasies

I don't envy you

Not at all dear friend
When you kept crooning about a yet to be found lover
How you brought a picture of your perfect man snatched from your minds' wall
How you swore to wring him around your body until he puts a ring around your finger
How your spell of deceitfulness brought home your shame unsavory
How that wicked craving of yours sent away all that meant well

I don't envy you

I don't envy your constant nagging; your definite raging
Your late nights and early morning shrieks of bitterness
Not even your legal tender that seems to diminish at hours tick
Not to mention your headlamps that have lost its bulbs
Your speedometer that stopped functioning
Your thermometer that has drastically gone up

I don't envy your madness
Yours sadness
Your reddened eyes
Your blackened heart
Your blue and gloomy sky
Your sunset
You in your closet
Your stiffened body
Your silent words
The wide road you chose
Your gnashing of teeth

I don't envy you
I don't envy anything about you.


Fabulous Edwina 'Neofloetry' Aleme
(c) 2014.
Categories: legal tender, crazy, death of a
Form: Free verse

Flatulence Upon First Date

Upon the first date (decades ago) with the gal,
whose troth aye did pledge allegiance to wed
we agreed to dine at an ex-mex eatery
in north Wales, Pennsylvania, where angels feared to tread
carefully scrutinizing bon appétit the menu selection, 
a touch of Latin lick QED

all American version sans south of the border cuisine –
Quod Erat Demonstrand – translations spit out in rapid fire Hispanic
by a beady eyed inked kid named Ned
whose couture favored a punkish style
with spiked gelled green hair, piercings galore and
necklace with a genetically modified sizable
entombed glass encased amber ked

which beastly fully intact organism with a miniature grisly bear like head
momentarily hypnotizing me tell nudged out of trance sans this egghead
who make a selection by randomly 
landing finger on an item feigning to be well bred

unbeknownst to the arbitrary choice this senior made
within an ample number of mouthfuls
of beans and rice that quelled hunger pangs
mine lower gastrointestinal tract,

felt a bubbling sensation played
though impropriety struggled with gaseous mounting perturbations,
what promised to be hot malodorous, would induce an air raid
from this “wind bag”, whose saving grace divine, when wallet of suede
discover herd visa vis tubby devoid of cash, thus and excuse to beat the tirade
of volcanic eruption found me bolting
out the restaurant door fortunately not waylaid

and madly dashing (like some comet fiery dancer) 
performing a cheeky number hopping on one foot than the other – 
since forceful blast triggered kidneys to be tapped, thus prancer
two step extemporaneously incorporated while await the ATM to disburse cash
legal tender coveted akin to Cupid sprinkling spell of romancer
while expulsion of noxious fumes from thine sphincter from this hob er dasher

brought relief as aye nonchalantly strolled inside 
the cozy diner and slipped into me seat
disinclined to relate vents to future spouse,
the bodily aeration and stream of urine from me magic flute
which amazingly synchronized with the Maximus glute
from consuming food triggering tushy to toot.
Categories: legal tender, animal, anxiety, desire, fate,
Form: Blitz

Show Me the Money

OK!! Love is good, love is good,
But hey, will it buy me food,
For bread with love can I pay,
And my bills and taxes too, I say?

For love, much I will toil
And burn the midnight oil,
If love be the legal tender
I'll work as a love peddler.

For my kids' room and board
And for the gas on the road
Love would be the way to pay,
So stash love for the rainy day.

Say, O say until love do reign
Am I merely dabbling in vain?
"You are dreaming again honey"
Taunts wife, "Show me the money!"
Categories: legal tender, life, love, love, me,
Form: Rhyme

Legal Tender of Getting Old

Legal Tender of Getting Old 

If tears were coins I'd be a rich man… 
If sadness was time I'd live forever… 
If I only knew what to do to make it better… 
I would do it in a heartbeat. 


But, no answers are easy when feelings crash around you… 
And the Sun does not shine in the heavens above… 
if only I could see…if only I could find a way…if only I knew… 
How do you say goodbye when there is no love? 


To only be me myself alone … again… 
decisions are frightening and shaky to behold… 
But change is needed for me to stay sane… 
all the while we continue to grow old. 



RLM 
'05
Categories: legal tender, allegory, angst, confusion, dedication,
Form: Free verse

Another Day Another Accursed Blank Screen

Another Day...Another Accursed Blank Screen

Ma wink'n and blink'n
     mind nod yet awake,
     nor insights keen,
asper ho hum usual, this
     (day-glo bull leave
     me you) after noon,
     (October thirtieth
     two thousand and eight teen),

mine myopic brown
     marbled occipital orbs
     fixate upon a
     lone blinking cursor -
     hooping such intense stare
     will magically glean
a divine comedy,
     or even mediocre

     shaky spear writ tragedy, none
     the less letting thoughts
     glom (cess) pool like
     into some elusive essence,
     finding me madly chasing
     (feebly, lamely, queerly
     and ridiculously
     likened to a teen

age paramour) intriguing,
     nattering, and wordlessly
     spellbinding notion
     all the way to Abilene,
     perhaps metamorphosing
    into a topnotch 
     poem (ska lean),
swiftly tailored harried

     style even out rivaling
     the best newsy
     Lake Woebegone fabulist
     (formerly Nordic European)
scribes, that juiced might earn
     me some crisp 
     legal tender green,
yet impetus to write,

     NOT predicated on ram
     ping up checking account,
     which primary queen
tis essential money source
     of mine to pay bills
     appears extremely lean,
and thus apologize if
     any hint of desperation

     (PULL EASE pledge to
     Matthew Scott Harris charity)
     seeps extemporaneously typing
     this poetic expression,
     when financial resources
     picked bone dry clean,
and me fanciful
     thoughts cannot help

     wishing for miraculous
     intervention tub bring,
     a raft of smiley faces
     tomb eye gentle mien
such as receiving
     an anonymous bajillion
     dollars donated (tummy)
     from tennis scene legend

     (in her own mind)
     aery Billy Jean
King, whose near
     exhaustive earnings -
     at least compared
     to thy germane mein kampf
     (accrued during - her mist
     starry re:us horse sing around)

     straw berry fields
     forever hay day
     with tangerine trees, 
     and marmalade skies
     completing tennis 
     (tense) backdrop against
     engendered match with 
     the late Bobby Riggs.
Categories: legal tender, 11th grade, art, dream,
Form: Lyric

Society

Society 

Like a cold clap in the dark you lit a spark of what I was waiting for
 You hide behind the false hidden garb of compromise can't you see the lies
 Having long hanging viscious fangs to frighten each other
 A line is being drawn in the sand when will we understand
 The pusher on the street knows to well the score is in sight
 All of the money is tight waving empty beer can to cash them in
 A solo of sorts to summon the eager minds that plug destruction
 To get food stamps & disability insurance in you pocket
 Burning flags in the presence of the socially elite doomed to repeat
 A challenge to be set free is a question of time my one solution is using mind
 We work in the factory laboring for that legal tender
 While pulling out of the grocery store you get a busted fender
 One needs a heart saturated with truth to stand the test of time
 Standing in line at the D.M.V. kind of bothers me
 We as a society have treasured a rose that was sent before us
 Send the troops home there is no good reason for them to roam
 The casualties are enormous for a stated cause that's plain atrocious
 Merciful one come take this chip off my shoulder stop the senseless fighting
 Yet are nation grows a bit colder from all the anxiety from within
 Another chance a which to begin again stop the riots in the street
 With abortion as a plan when will we be able to understand
 A fetus is a living breathing human being inside not some instant jello
 Society is filled with people that hate that is their lasting fate
 Become a beacon of hope to a lost world in need of love
 This true expression of faith is sent to us from only God above
Categories: legal tender, blessing,
Form: Free verse

Dilemma of Decisions

The dilemma of decisions,
Torn betwixt sentimentality and objectivity,
A humane demeanour whilst horns locked with adversity,
Criticism diluted with kindness,
Justice tempered with mercy,
Verdicts pronounced on truth as against fact,
Judgements made from emotion rather than intellect,
Thoughts initiated from the heart not the brain,
Profits measured by fulfilment not figures,
Smiles accepted as legal tender,
Responsibility overshadowing duty,
Negative bank balances coexisting with positive outlooks,
Sustained by intangible gains,
Rules and regulations non-existent,
Laws and decrees abolished,
Constitutions rescinded,
Order maintained by one command,
Decisions reached by one consideration,
Love.
Categories: legal tender, freedom, society,
Form: Prose Poetry
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