Challenge: Lunar Calendar Theme

[PandoraGlitters]

Since this year is the Year of the Dragon and since dragons often, in tales, have lairs full of loot, and also since this is the poetry challenge for the other thing I do on Sundays, I challenge YOU literoticans to write about MONEY.

Loot.
Garbanzos.
Bills.
Coins.
Extra Electronic 0s.
Net worth
Capital Gains

Empty those pockets and spill forth a poem!

 

[PandoraGlitters]

hidden in dirty
laundry is more than the sum
required for a wash
rinse and even at 25 cents
per every 8 minutes there is enough
hidden in these pockets
(thank you denim)
to pay the bill of both
tumblers

and this is a metaphor for how life
operates because
treasure is often sunk
three fingers deep in a mud pie
or cornered under dust and gum wrappers

the slip of paper unfolded
has written upon it the message
do not despair!

You were born in America and there are always
quarters here somewhere but probably
your hands will need washing
your jeans will need washing
your taxable income may need
washing quarterly

 

[mynameisben]

I once wrote a poem about Fed Chairman Paul Volcker Jr.'s fiduciary spending policy that would have made John Keats stand up and take notice. I wish I could print it here, but I sold the rights to it to Skank! Magazine.

 

[greenmountaineer]

Gleaning

He would not harvest to the edge of fields
To monetize more crop, add property,
Or profit his last will and testament

And looked outside at omnivorous men,
Collecting snap peas and carrots at dusk,
Who maybe took what the government gave
Before they took what they could from others

"Or maybe didn't," he said.

"There are no coupons for fresh vegetables,"
He whispered to God whom he thought existed

Or maybe didn't. So what?

He warmed his feet before the fire,
And he had socks to darn tomorrow.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

Ben, you are a hoot.

Also, *sigh* . . . Beautiful, Greenmountaineer.

 

[Scentofawoman]

Do not wear your jewels in gold
And capture a dragon's eye.
He just may devour you alive
As a lesson for being so bold

 

[Maria2394]

There is a theory that two types
of people exist-
the ones who desire to understand being
and the rest to acquire the gleemimg
sight of coinage in silver or gold.

Myself, well, I never cared much for money
it caused my parents to split
but the essence of being cannot be
divided in courts of divorce
or opinion so my choice is to love
and enjoy just being

 

[BooMerengue]

Money. It doesn't hold first place.
It enables. If it's given away.
It helped a man escape death row.
A family to eat, and treat Santa.
A friend to pay her rent and keep
her children warm and fed.
No. Money doesn't hold first place.
But it's way ahead of whatever
is in second.

 

[butters]

field of dreams

the penny arcs
spins on held breaths

glitters with hope
eyes tracking descent

the swift reveal
stasis explodes
the game's afoot

..............................

faces lift
shiny with hope
as the penny arcs
spins on held breath
anticipation
glitters
its wide-eyed descent

stasis explodes
the game's afoot

.........................................
just tinkering with this idea.

 

[BooMerengue]

I can hear the clicking of the dice! nods... I like it.

I've been on FB too long. I'm looking for the Like button and can't find it! lol

 

[Angeline]

An oldie but you made me recall it!

Little cents
and less sense, money
your greedy face
shakes me cold
makes me anxious. I tear
my life to fractions hating
our symbiosis. Come to me,
and go away forever.

Money you Satan,
you hide your evil empire
behind Presidents.
You sing a pleasing song.
You tinkle and wrinkle
and toss my I-Ching,
make all these changes,
you filthy lucre,
Ka-ching, Ka-ching.

The only time
you ever made me happy
I spent a whole coin
collection on penny candy.
The 1909-s VDB, a fare
exchange for pastel
dotted paper and waxen lips.
Daddy, my numismatist,
you were so mad but I was
thrilled to be so sugar-rouged,
so frantically enriched.

 

[CharleyH]

Little cents
and less sense, money
your greedy face
shakes me cold
makes me anxious. I tear
my life to fractions hating
our symbiosis. Come to me,
and go away forever.

Money you Satan,
you hide your evil empire
behind Presidents.
You sing a pleasing song.
You tinkle and wrinkle
and toss my I-Ching,
make all these changes,
you filthy lucre,
Ka-ching, Ka-ching.

The only time
you ever made me happy
I spent a whole coin
collection on penny candy.
The 1909-s VDB, a fare
exchange for pastel
dotted paper and waxen lips.
Daddy, my numismatist,
you were so mad but I was
thrilled to be so sugar-rouged,
so frantically enriched.

Considering the poetry I've read from you, it feels like you are slumming here, my love. And so you are ... circa early 20th century. I'd love to see a parallel with the 21st century in this. I think it would make the poem stronger.

 

[Angeline]

Considering the poetry I've read from you, it feels like you are slumming here, my love. And so you are ... circa early 20th century. I'd love to see a parallel with the 21st century in this. I think it would make the poem stronger.

I wrote that poem for a challenge for Dora (not here) a few years ago. Not one of my better poems, imho (and I've not really edited it since then), but I like the little story at the end cause it's meaningful to me.

The 1909-S VDB was (and still is, I think) a valuable penny. When I was a kid--the experience in the poem really happened--it was worth a few hundred bucks. My parents had a coin and stamp store, which is why I know anything about this. So I'm not sure what a 21st century counterpart would be. I mean maybe I could write about a debit card or something, but I wrote about what I experienced. Anyway I am pretty stuck in the 20th century as anyone who reads me figures out right quick lol. In many ways it feels more real to me than the current one. I doubt my perspective will change much in that regard.

xxoo
S.

 

[butters]

Little cents
and less sense, money
your greedy face
shakes me cold
makes me anxious. I tear
my life to fractions hating
our symbiosis. Come to me,
and go away forever.

Money you Satan,
you hide your evil empire
behind Presidents.
You sing a pleasing song.
You tinkle and wrinkle
and toss my I-Ching,
make all these changes,
you filthy lucre,
Ka-ching, Ka-ching.

The only time
you ever made me happy
I spent a whole coin
collection on penny candy.
The 1909-s VDB, a fare
exchange for pastel
dotted paper and waxen lips.
Daddy, my numismatist,
you were so mad but I was
thrilled to be so sugar-rouged,
so frantically enriched.

i really like this, angie: the emotional content's nicely balanced (for me) with the striking visuals towards the end. those last two lines, in particular, are very strong.

 

[Ciel_Noir]

Exchange

What do you get for
Molten silver tears,
Bruises on my arms like grimy coins?

Do you think I bleed rubies?
Or is this twisted influence you wield
Its own reward,
Glimmering like fool's gold
In the space between us?

 

[greenmountaineer]

I wrote that poem for a challenge for Dora (not here) a few years ago. Not one of my better poems, imho (and I've not really edited it since then), but I like the little story at the end cause it's meaningful to me.

The 1909-S VDB was (and still is, I think) a valuable penny. When I was a kid--the experience in the poem really happened--it was worth a few hundred bucks. My parents had a coin and stamp store, which is why I know anything about this. So I'm not sure what a 21st century counterpart would be. I mean maybe I could write about a debit card or something, but I wrote about what I experienced. Anyway I am pretty stuck in the 20th century as anyone who reads me figures out right quick lol. In many ways it feels more real to me than the current one. I doubt my perspective will change much in that regard.

xxoo
S.

You're too modest. This is an outstanding poem. The fist 2 lines and the syntax and imagery that followed in the first stanza drew me in right away.

I saw a metaphor with I-Ching compared to money and love the word play with Ka-ching. I just didn't see it. I heard it (slot machine pay-outs and I-Ching), and the 3rd stanza line 8 had this powerful mix of anger that could never come close to a father's love for his daughter.

Maybe I've said too much because you may have intended something else or something I haven't mentioned (My imagination's still playing with the poem.) One quibble: "evil empire" felt a bit like a cliché. Nonetheless, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

 

[Angeline]

i really like this, angie: the emotional content's nicely balanced (for me) with the striking visuals towards the end. those last two lines, in particular, are very strong.

You're too modest. This is an outstanding poem. The fist 2 lines and the syntax and imagery that followed in the first stanza drew me in right away.

I saw a metaphor with I-Ching compared to money and love the word play with Ka-ching. I just didn't see it. I heard it (slot machine pay-outs and I-Ching), and the 3rd stanza line 8 had this powerful mix of anger that could never come close to a father's love for his daughter.

Maybe I've said too much because you may have intended something else or something I haven't mentioned (My imagination's still playing with the poem.) One quibble: "evil empire" felt a bit like a cliché. Nonetheless, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Thank you for the feedback. I didn't think much of the poem--or haven't really since I wrote it for a challenge. Maybe it deserves a rethink and edit. GM, any ideas for what I might replace "evil empire" with? It does sound sort of childish, and I'm sure there's a better, more precise way to say what I want: that it's a necessary evil, needed and reviled at once. And I'm glad you got the extended I-Ching reference. I was thinking of slot machines and also of the sound pennies make when you toss them for an I-Ching reading. And of course, the double meaning for "change."

I remember once I was at a conference in Atlantic City and I was meeting someone for dinner and had to take an escalator down into the casino on my way to the restaurant. I recall descending into the haze of smoke (pre smoke-free days) and money clinking from slot machine payouts and laughter and screaming. I felt like I was descending into some circle of hell, and it was a strong impression. I think it came across in the tone of the poem.

And yeah my dad had helped my sister and I fill out the penny, nickel and dime coin books. We didn't have all of the valuable ones, but they were worth more than we spent them on for candy. And he loved his girls but man he was pissed. He also gave up then on either of us becoming numismatists.

Thanks again to you all. You poets are the best.

 

[greenmountaineer]

Thank you for the feedback. I didn't think much of the poem--or haven't really since I wrote it for a challenge. Maybe it deserves a rethink and edit. GM, any ideas for what I might replace "evil empire" with? It does sound sort of childish, and I'm sure there's a better, more precise way to say what I want: that it's a necessary evil, needed and reviled at once. And I'm glad you got the extended I-Ching reference. I was thinking of slot machines and also of the sound pennies make when you toss them for an I-Ching reading. And of course, the double meaning for "change."

I remember once I was at a conference in Atlantic City and I was meeting someone for dinner and had to take an escalator down into the casino on my way to the restaurant. I recall descending into the haze of smoke (pre smoke-free days) and money clinking from slot machine payouts and laughter and screaming. I felt like I was descending into some circle of hell, and it was a strong impression. I think it came across in the tone of the poem.

And yeah my dad had helped my sister and I fill out the penny, nickel and dime coin books. We didn't have all of the valuable ones, but they were worth more than we spent them on for candy. And he loved his girls but man he was pissed. He also gave up then on either of us becoming numismatists.

Thanks again to you all. You poets are the best.

Perhaps deleting it and combining the 2 lines to read:

Money you Satan,
you hide behind Presidents.

Yes or no, still a great poem IMO. I read it 5 times.

One final comment: "Daddy,..." reminded me of the Sylvia Plath poem of the same title with just enough nuance to contrast that horrible relationship with the wonderful one in your poem. It was another element of the poem that gave it a rich texture for me.

 

[Angeline]

Perhaps deleting it and combining the 2 lines to read:

Money you Satan,
you hide behind Presidents.

Yes or no, still a great poem IMO. I read it 5 times.

One final comment: "Daddy,..." reminded me of the Sylvia Plath poem of the same title with just enough nuance to contrast that horrible relationship with the wonderful one in your poem. It was another element of the poem that gave it a rich texture for me.

Excellent idea, GM. Just lose the phrase. I also just thought maybe

Money you Satan
hiding your nature behind
presidents, liberty bells.
<and so on>

but now I have some ideas. Thank you.

I should prolly just take it out. My karmic poetry lesson I am ever learning is that less is more.

 

[brandware]

I like poem. once wrote a poem, it is a failure.

 

[Neonurotic]

I like poem. once wrote a poem, it is a failure.

It's not your poetry, it's your spam signature that stinks.