old hands count the coins
quiet morning passes by
someone helps today
The aluminum lid he lifted.
Polished clean? Hunger struck back!
“Your days are numbered,” he vowed
To a woman who counted not coins, but breaths.
“Did I drink with your money?”
“No. You drank our supper.”
“You sit at home without a job.”
“You take loans. They disgrace me.”
Co-operative shame on her doorstep.
He called her liability.
She called for freedom from foolishness.
Both broke. Both bleeding pride.
There are those who Save Coins for a better tomorrow
yet, to live for tomorrow is to live in Sorrow
for today truly is all we ever have
when one wields the Sword and Staff,
Just Let It Shine, it's truly as simple as that
and this is the Great Celestial Epitaph,
hoarding in goods that inevitably turn to dust
but a token in the spirit, In This I Trust
what we do and don't do is all that counts
Right Here, Right Now is Paramount
Ashes to Ashes, Illusions to Night
Fire to Fire unto Wisdoms of Light,
Be Forever in this moment, heed to these Innards of Life
for Yesterday is Gone, Tomorrow a Farce, by Wisdom we Rule the Nights
some never see, some know this road
some find Treasures, some Reap Thorns
All Is Wise, externally nothing ever lasts
Investments in Knowledge Conquers the Hour Glass
Be Present, what you seek lies within
some chase and some claim these riches,
so never wait for the proper time
See It, Believe It, and Live To Shine
Coins made of chocolate, in a string bag
Bought for myself in case my spirits sag
But little can knock my good cheer off its feet
So, those chocolate coins are my own secret treat
I buy them to decorate my Christmas tree
But soon comprehend that the grand-kids would see
The one selfish gift that I buy annually
Those coins made of chocolate… I buy… just for me
In all other ways there’s a shirt on my back
That I would give you if you’ve taken some flak
If my kind demeanour has one little crack
It’s those chocolate coins in that little string sack
It’s not like I hide my treats in a locked room
With a sign saying, “Keep Out, or Meet Thy Own Doom”
But those chocolate coins, when I stash them away
Fall behind things not used since some long ago day
So now, here I sit, and Christmas is gone
I gaze at the TV at whatever’s on
And then I recall that my chocolate gift
Merely needs ‘peeling’ to give me a lift
The grand-kids are gone and the wife is in bed
“Go get your choccies,” the sneak in me said
And now I sit here facing one of life’s fails
I cannot eat foil… but I just clipped my nails!
Golden coins and precious jewels
The pirate's life good while it lasts
Lust quickly leads to misery
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 1st place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
They laid their gold
on a tray the color of midnight,
fingers ringed in stones
that caught the candlelight like captive suns.
Outside,
a boy with a patched sleeve
watched frost stitch lace
across the bakery window.
His breath bloomed and vanished,
a ghost repeating itself.
The men inside
spoke of progress —
steel rivers,
glass towers that drink the clouds,
oceans combed for oil.
A gull’s cry cut through the smoke.
It smelled of salt,
of a shore too far to see,
where waves still bow
to no one.
And somewhere between the clink of coins
and the rattle of the boy’s thin cough,
the truth waited —
patient as winter,
sharp as the wind
slipping under the door.
On fair ways of life what can wind not,
Counterfeit coins their way can find not.
Your shadows do if find the sun strong,
Sure, with me the way would ye wind not.
Hardships hover on all human life,
Sans tough tests man’s today defined not.
How will ye change the ways of this world
If the set-in-stone kind, ye grind not.
Even on chasing this heedless time,
Today nor morrows may we mind not.
How strange--maybe this is His revenge
That fair fruits of deeds man may find not.
Is it fair, faulty, gods only know--
Ways to cheat self have they divined not.
It’s justice that those with wayward ways
On straighter ways their way can wind not.
O beware, coins may be out of way,
To ban notes crooks would be inclined not.
__________________________
Ghazal |04.07.2025| people, life
Note: The poem is set in anapaest meter.
The man was
handsome, intelligent,
and good in bed.
But he just
had nothing
to say.
And all of his days
were the same.
Monochromatic
introspection followed
by a sort of smothered
self-expression.
He never
felt like himself.
And he always felt
worried about what
other people thought
about him.
Who even was
he?
His routine?
His career?
His interests?
His beliefs?
Beliefs?
The man had
no beliefs, the
man didn’t need
to believe.
For if he started believing
in something, he may have
actually needed
to start existing.
And that idea
scared the
hell out of
him.
Why do some coins purposefully have holes punched in the middle?
To save copper, silver and gold?
Guess again.
So you can hang them on Christmas trees
Or around dog’s necks on their collars?
Maybe
They were actually made this way
So you could string them together and keep track of them
The sad thing is,
It would make things easier for a snatch and grab robber
Is 30 Silver Coins All I’m Worth?
Is money all you want?
Don’t walk away from the cross.
What is 30 coins worth?
What am I worth to you?
I gave you life.
You were betrayed with a lie.
You surrendered yourself to the world.
I was handed over for just 30 shekels.
As a brother, I haven’t forgotten you.
You left me behind with an army that was brutal.
I walked on water.
You replaced me with silver.
I am the way.
Through greed, like dust you have faded.
I could have saved you.
You choose to go down the wrong road.
I have risen above the clouds.
You are now dust in the ground.
I was exchanged for very little.
I will bring down fire upon the world.
My suffering was unbearable.
I have always been with you.
One day we will meet again.
I will pass judgment toward men.
You cannot serve both God and money.
You have turned against me, so the world keeps on burning.
Matthew 26:14
"Pennies are good luck. Take one with you everywhere you go." By Poet
Once in a tale of old,
a penny was worth one cent not gold.
A nickel was worth five pennies,
they say changes are coming Jenny.
With no more pennies of copper,
this will be a real money stopper.
Guess I need to now unearth,
the real story behind the nickel's worth.
Will the king of coins the nickel require a new birth?
When they fall on the ground.
They make a clanging sound.
Out of my pocket or from my purse.
Coins can sometimes feel like a curse.
Weighing everything down.
As I shop around town.
I don’t like to pay with dimes.
I pay with card every time.
But sometimes, I like having pennies by my side.
By the fountain, wishes I have tried.
Wishing for a day of ease.
But all I get is a sudden breeze.
Blowing my hat away.
So I take the rest of my coins for the day.
To waste them at the claw machine at the store.
So the curse of the coins goes out the door.
The water in the fountain in the park is gushing with joy,
The reflections from the wishing coins are dazzling my eyes,
The coins are full of someone's daydreams, and anticipation of love,
only time will decide when those dreams would come alive.
With so many wishing coins already in the fountain,
I add my coin in the water with a kiss and a wish,
Like so many wishes, is my wish ever going to come true?
Only the reflection from the pool smilingly knows.
In every coin a wish is wrapped,
A hope is bound, an expectation is carved,
The reflecting moon rays from the coins in the night,
Fills the heart of viewers with the soothing peace and glitter in the eyes.
Next time I pass the fountain again,
I add my coin with another wish,
I never know whether any wish would ever come true,
The only thing I know is the sight of the fountain brings me rays of hope.
Golden
Coins of our lives
Frivolously spending
Not thinking about what matters
Till gone.
Heads or tails- one flip could change your outcome
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