Long Silver dollar Poems
Long Silver dollar Poems. Below are the most popular long Silver dollar by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Silver dollar poems by poem length and keyword.
Written By: D. Collins 8/18/23
You know what happens when we ride.
The news will give the name of the person who died.
And, before the night is even halfway thru.
We'll have laid down the rest of the crew.
We don't take prisoners nor ever leave a witness.
Do what we came to do, then dash with a quickness.
It is always personal when you see us ride.
Entire families should find a place to hide.
We'll eat seconds if we can't get at who we want.
Which includes brothers, sisters, cousins, and aunts.
On recon missions with all gats swole.
Live or die is how we ride when we roll.
Whether beamed from distance or up close.
Whichever way it is comes will be an overdose.
There will be silver dollar eyes when they see us coming.
When we ride , its time to die, and too late for running.
Each of us is born the main persona
in the narrative of his or her own life.
Through ever-changing atmosphere,
supporting characters and diversity of settings,
we help to mold the rising action of our own tale.
A great variety of characters abound in our stories.
Some of them, bright pennies tossed into existence,
spin wildly on exploits which make for
the most gripping of preliminary chapters.
However, their denouement is hard to guess.
Others, silver dollar, sparkle too,
but in a much less compromising way.
I suppose most of us could fit into that category.
Giddily we dance through early life’s events.
Then on and on we go, unraveling our plot,
striving always for happily-ever-afters.
A smaller group, Olympian, glide like skaters
on ice. Not only blessed, they are also driven.
Their chronicles inspire us; they are gold!
Others, although colorful, when held up to the light,
they are shown as counterfeit, the perpetrators of pure fiction.
A few, by fate and nature not so blessed, may court insanity,
or at the very least, create confusion
with their crises that seem to come unceasingly
yet often fail to find resolution.
Possibly, if given a good polishing,
they could be diamonds in the rough!
There are others who are the spawn of a society gone wrong.
They stalk our paths, as unfeeling as assassins.
The pages from their lives can horrify.
However, those who wield great power
are also often morally corrupt, and
if their stories live on, it’s in infamy only.
These types of souls are nothing but
cold, hard cash, and paper burns or crumbles
in the end.
A final group is joyless.
Given something . . . giving nothing back,
they hoard the talents God gifted them.
They wonder woefully why no one wants
to open their books to even read
the parts that once had held some promise.
For them it would be better to have been
a rusting copper penny in dread of its own conclusion
than even an evil-doer whose story titillates
and at least gets read.
Written By: D. Collins 1/2/19
A wanna-be Gangsta is the only requirement.
To bring a heavy-hitter out of retirement.
The last person you'd want repelling from trees.
A man on a mission in camouflaged fatigues.
Trained to lie in the cut, and master disguise.
The one who opens up those silver dollar eyes.
Exercising his skill with exact precision.
Never awaken a man on a mission.
Ambush is his most defining trait.
A clinical expert of lying in wait.
Fingerprints and DNA will not be there.
Because, the act is swift, and handled with care.
Vengeance is man's most primal sin.
If it didn't exist, there would never be men.
God said in the scriptures, "Vengeance is Mine".
Being made in His image, its on me, this time.
Some fellers like to make fashion statements with their dress,
But I'm a rather conservative dude (much to my wife's distress!).
I'm fine with loafers, button-down collars and pleated slacks.
I'm not taken with tailor-mades, I prefer to buy off the racks!
Some dudes make a statement with the T-shirts they wear,
Sharin' their philosophies with others (who don't really care!).
They tout their favorite beer, sport and even some nasty words!
Lord, spare me from wearin' such - I'm OK as one of the nerds!
The latest fad is sandals, tank tops and droopy shorts,
And displayed on their hide, suggestive tattoos of all sorts.
They're mutilated with things piercin' their nose and ear,
And to top it off, wear their baseball cap facin' to the rear!
I'll deign to wear a suit and tie to weddin's, funerals and such,
But I'm here to tell you, I don't relish it very much!
I'd rather wear jeans (of course with button-down collar!),
And a fancy belt with a buckle as big as a silver dollar.
Lord, forgive me for judgin' fellers by what they wear,
By what their T-shirts preach or how they wear their hair.
But, Lord, permit me to say, I've seen some rather curious sights,
But I reckon they have a right to express their First Amendment rights!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
they fall into my lap, unresistant.
chocolate, the size of a silver dollar.
sensation of mint betwixt my fingers.
I bite into each one, its cool breath
second to none. Godiva
ceased production of these tongue trinkets.
love pales with petals and Russell Stover…
my husband and I hold hands,
press our temples together and sigh
with the sprightly rush of memory.
Mrs. Field’s fresh Cookies a close second
especially tasty at Fisherman’s Wharf.
still I gladly accept tulips in a väse,
its life-giving water, and caramel dreams.
my heartthrob beams awaiting the verdict —
it’s Valentine’s Day. he’s pretty sure I am his.
holding daisy by the stem —
she loves me, she loves me not
just to be sure, he’s counted each petal beforehand.
eleven flowers on the floor — for pity sake.
1/31/2021
Beauty And The Feast
by Gabriel Magno
April 25, 2015
sea side adventure, in a distant tropic island,
waves relentless, as the morning sun appears.
mind is sharp, durable as a diamond,
a stranger carrying fur pelts, stumbles as he nears.
sunken eyes and mouth agape, he stares as in a trance,
following is a wife and child, the girl begins to dance.
offering his goods to sell, things I could not ever need,
I give the girl a silver dollar, she smiles as I proceed.
far into the jungle, miles away from my hotel,
to see a certain scene, I’ve learned to know so well.
monkeys leaping tree to tree, as in a Tarzan movie,
the herb I hid in my suitcase, is making me feel groovy.
the beating of a drum, is heard not far away,
I wonder carefully should I go, or should I opt to stay.
no, I will forge ahead, in spite of all my primal fears,
I only hope and pray, not to be slain with poisoned spears.
I reached my destination, I found it just by chance.
running ‘round the fire, the natives formed a dance.
hands pointing to the sky, then down over and over,
my courage now my only guide, as I moved ever closer.
suddenly I felt the fear, a hand upon my shoulder,
as I turned, I now became, a mesmerized beholder.
of something I could not dream to see, in all my sweetest dreams,
there she stood in front of me, beauty bursting at the seams.
leading me by hand, we walked to where I stood, amazed,
as the chief halted all the dancing, pointed me and gazed,
some words were spoken, as the natives cheered out loud,
they held me by each arm, as the beauty left and bowed.
a spear was raised, the lanky native took his aim,
pointing straight at me, my legs were weak and lame.
as the spear began to fly, I closed my eyes and prayed,
but just then I awoke, as the words came from my maid,
“you will be late for work, it’s best if you arise”,
I dreamed it all, and in the end, it was not my demise.
but in my mind remains, a vision I cannot now conceal,
the vision of that beauty, who would have made of me a meal.
He walked up to his mother to say his final goodbye;
There wasn’t an eye in church that at that moment was dry.
He turned and looked at his father for a reassuring glance,
Then reached his hand deeply into the pockets of his pants.
He pulled out the little white tooth he lost the day before,
And gently placed it upon the pretty blue dress that she wore.
“I was going to give this to the Tooth Fairy, but thought you might want it instead,
To remember the boy who loves you and once had it in his head
You can keep it with you always, while living up there in heaven
I have plenty of others left to loose, I think I counted eleven.
And Mommy, I will always remember, how you helped me wiggle it free,
And how even when you didn’t feel too well, you always had a hug for me.
And I will take care of Daddy, just like you asked me to
And he said that he will always make sure that we both remember you.”
He turned back toward his father, with tears running down his face,
And quickly rushed up to that man for a comforting embrace.
“You did great little Buddy, now Mommy can get some rest
With a God who will take care of her, in the place she loves the best.
And she will keep your tooth with her and hold on to it real tight
And tell the tooth fairy to leave you a dollar under your pillow tonight.”
I know that story very well, because I am that boy you see,
And have held on to that silver dollar dated nineteen sixty-three.
But now that once again I stand before an open casket,
I am putting this symbol of love in the pocket of my father’s jacket.
“Tell Mother that you were good to me and we never did forget her.”
Finally, after all these years, the tooth and dollar are back together.
Surging like electricity to the esoteric abyss of my soul,
felt in all body parts, the flinching brought to the shoal.
Even the slightest stub of a toe, a beloved child in distress,
causes bile to roil and roll, the bowels of my heart in duress.
Likewise the agony of a pet - the suffering shrill, painful howl.
As a child I buried a silver dollar, his float to water’s top foul.
The automatic flinch - squeeze of fists, jaw, stomach, lady parts.
My brain disoriented, imaginative, culling others pain is a fine art.
The news of a small child hit by a homerun play, and the grab
Of the disintegrating player, dissolving into tears - a poignant stab.
Why do I linger so long, explaining at length my wearisome woe.
So you’ll grasp my afferent saturation and how my compassion grows.
5/30/2019
What Makes You Flinch Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julie Rodeheaver
When I was young and hearty,
I once sowed a measly seed,
And saw with awe
the paltry seed grow into
a beautiful flowering tree
permeating all around
sweet fragrance
pleasing to the soul.
I likewise sowed
a shiny silver dollar,
And with bated breath
waited to see if it grows
into my dream tree:
A tree with branches of solid silver
and sparkling silver leaves,
It will bear fruits of shiny
gold and silver coins and
make all my dreams
to come true!
With glitters in my eyes,
And overbearing anticipation,
I guarded it day and night,
Nurturing it with my
dreams and aspirations.
But days turned into years
And still I did not see
even a seedling spring forth.
Now old and at my wits' end,
I dug up the coin and held it
in my trembling hand;
"Can I have that, Grandpa?"
The boy asked as he whisked
the coin off my palm.
I stared dumbfounded at him
as he ran to a roadside vendor
and bought an ice cream!
~Abdul Malik
Quote by: Mystic Rose
When imagination flies like a wingeth butterfly of joy
towards the ladder of hope, inside a deep blue sky,
I am there, I am there, ... I am everywhere !
Climb me to the stars my friend
so my silver dollar eyes can feast on light
Ascend me to the moon and let me watch assurgent blues
sweet mingle with the puffy whitely clouds;
Like the birds in the sky that soar higher than the peeks
like the eagle that rises unshackled, by earth's re-forge
climb me to the heavens in one single breath ...
like all the beautiful things born of wings
Help me mount God's Kingdom of Love,
and it is there that you will find me,
I will be there, I will be there, I will be everywhere !
August 19 2022/b>