I know the blame and the shame,
like a dirty picked up dime
forgetting its once shiny place
and a instrument that paves
I'm now the fresh concrete,
you all walk over,
as teens scribble love graffiti,
and ripped of 4 leaf clovers
of innocents once believing....
Gets caught up in the cracks,
kids need to hop and skip over,
to avoid my dire of bad luck.
Make way for the catholic priests
Wolves ushering in all the children
don't slip in the rain on your back
as ignorance doesn't pick up the slack,
I hate the way you engraved our initials
Never ably with purple petals.....
a penny is a cent of a dime
a dime is a wise penny
a wise penny is a cent dime
penny on a dime,penny on a cent
party on the rocks,party on a dime
party on the rocks,party on a penny
a rock party is a cent dime
penny on a dime,penny on a rock party
a rock is a rock party
sense a million
sense a million rock party
sense a million penny
penny on a million,penny on a million rock party
a million is a million penny
a million rock party is a million sense
sense a million is sense a million penny
sense a million is sense a million rock party
a million penny a million rock party
party on the rocks,party on a million rock party
party on the rocks,party on a million
party on the rocks,party on a million sense
A tall tree I did climb,
on a bet of a dime.
Baby Bear said it was funny,
it was not for the big money.
The limb broke what a crime.
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.
He went to earth
To pay the debt of life
So we will learn humbleness
How to let go and repent
Embrace the pain and loss
Continue life in His grace
Heal the day we say thank you
Care to be the example of His goodness
Share love and blessing to each one
Because life is as silver as dime.
A dime in his pocket
hope in his heart
Just his clothes on his back
but he’d make a new start
Constricted at home
he took to the road
Foraged for food
yet upright he strode
Three days and two nights
of this, all it took
For him to come home ~
let mom and dad off the hook
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 Creators brush in the stream of Ocean waves
Painting with feeling and shading with inner thought
Inventing a life a moment of escape
Swimming towards an open gate
A trigger with a conscience
A finger on a dime in somebody's tore pocket
What is saved at the end of the day without the skill of care.
Losing a life lost in disaster
Living to prove the glistening of diamonds
Who's shine a reflection of the dream to be left in peace
Diamonds made from the tears off every shooting star
Screams kept in silent smothered jars trapped by ocean waves
Released by moonstruck tides smashing the fallen day
They say apply yourself to a civilization that needs to dream
Pick up those who have fallen along the path as they are the hinges fallen from that rusted gate
If I had a dime
I'd pay for the time that I had lost long ago
but I only have a penny and a head
filled with many memories of summer spent with you
Now it's winter, and I still think
of the summer nights
although we had our fair share of fights
nothing compares to those 90 days
of having you by my side
Understand me when I say
of course, I miss your presence or the way you laugh
But if I had a dime
I wouldn't ask you to be mine this valentine
Hearing your name, I can't help but smile
mainly at the remembrance of those childish days
but not as the person you are now
though you have fooled me once
I shouldn't let you fool me twice
So, if I had a dime I wouldn't let you waste my time, but i'd keep
the summer nights when you were sincere
and I was merely naive
for following my dreams.
I heard you correct
The first time
All you ever initially asked for
Was buddy can you spare a dime
But thinking I am so kind
I pulled out and offered you
A $100 dollar bill note instead
Honestly I think for the sole reason because
So I could lord and let myself
And believe my goodness
Go to my head
So buddy as little as you may think
You may have or haven't got
What you in fact do
Or will never want
Is anything in fact
From me
Because what I obviously
Do not possess
Is a single ounce
Of humility
Or
Humanity
Take me back to the dime bag days
when we were hotel hippies,
thirsty for trouble and stuck in a state
of delirium.
Our souls were scattered messes
among the unbent hills -
dreaming of rebellion and freedom,
pockets empty, heart's empty
Having no sense of direction and
craving toxicity like it is a
natural remedy. We were walking
disasters, baddie two shoes.
On a sunny day, I walk down the road,
and I stumble upon a cool dude,
who snaps a dime that turns into bread,
and earns two more by a trade.
I was amazed by his magic,
but something pulled me back,
and I panic then shout "Oh, tragic",
as I poked into my pouch
I pulled my hand off my pocket
and then twisted it like a faucet,
swung and jabbed hard in the air,
sadly my hunger grows more unfairly.
A minute later someone pats from behind,
and the hope shines even more than ever,
I slowly moved my poor side,
in a low tune greeted "Hi!",
I can't believe its the bread guy,
I sigh and said " I don't have a dime"
and then end it by stating " I can't have it from you".
He burst into laughter and replies " You are good to be a fool",
and continues "The bread is for two, ain't it cool,"
He gives me one for free and leaves by shouting " Next time it's two".
(A guy told me today with total confidence that for women, men are a dime a dozen. That has never been my experience which inspired me to pen this piece.)
I could have collected empty soda cans
from the side of the road and cashed them in
They were worth five cents apiece back then
I only needed two for that dime to buy
a dozen men’s time and attention
sparing myself those Saturday nights
wasting away in my room reading
as I listened to old records or the radio
or sitting at a table alone as other girls
danced held in the arms of a guy
I didn’t know they had purchased
for less than a single penny
I could have had a whole harem
if in the winter I had shoveled snow
I had nothing else to do and nowhere to go
Together in my pocket,
With no future in mind.
They often rub against each other,
As if they are blind.
Recalling better times, when
They weren't so small.
With memories of buying bits of
Candy, or even making a call.
This history is lost on most,
From a time long ago.
As those few who might remember,
Are now, all too slow.
So while plentiful, their use is
Limited, and to some, even strange.
As their value comes about as an
Afterthought, and they're given as change.
I don't feel worth the dime
Or anyone's time
As I write this rhyme
I wonder why anyone tried
Lost in my mind
Looking to find
A reason why.
Related Poems