Where I find a treasure-trove?
A Dollar coin stuck in my sticky wallet
And I salute the face that engraved on the coin,
The sixth President of the United States of America
Mr.John.Quincy.Adams who resembles my benevolent maternal grandpa.
I would like to Scratch a lottery to build up my treasury
But I am scared that I'll loose the coin which guards my magical wallet(notes fly & coins remain) since a long time.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
The value of a coin
Husband and wife are two sides of a coin.
They don’t face each other or see eye to eye.
Yet they remain stuck to each other
To get value for the coin they formed.
20.05.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Coin And A Boy
THE COIN AND A BOY
WHY DO YOU LOOK SO UNHAPPY SONNY? A MAN ASKED A YOUNG LAD WHO HE MET ON THE WAY TO HIS STALL! AND THE BOY REPLIED THUS, SAYING, I LOST MY COIN, AND AS I CRIED, A MAN GAVE ME ANOTHER COIN! HE STATED, AND THE INQUISITIVE MAN ASKED AGAIN, IF THAT BE SO, THEN WHY DO YOU LOOK SO UNHAPPY STILL? AND THE BOY REPLIED, OH, NOW THAT I HAVE THIS COIN, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN TWO COINS WITH ME INSTEAD OF ONE, IF I HADNT LOST MY COIN! HE STATED
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Magic Well
Magic well, Magic well, Magic well
Curiouslly u walk toward me with a coin dangling in thy hand
cast a coin upon me and make a wish for a coin gives birth to a dream of wish
look upon me with thy reflection on my face and cast your coin and let out your wish for u never know when it come 2 pass
cast a coin and make a wish for i'll grant it to u...
poem by Paul World
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The Silver Dollar
You gave me something, grandpa
A coin of silver - flat and round
But it doesn't whirr or whistle
It cannot make a sound
It is not marked with 'China'
On a toy that is a must
It only bears this simple line
'U.S.A In God We Trust'
This thing you gave me grandpa
Of this there is no doubt
It doesn't laugh and giggle
When I push it in and out
It has no pretty colors
No buttons or a bow
It makes no noise or vibrate
No volume 'high' or 'low'
So of what good is it grandpa
This shiny little thing?
What fun will come with having it
What laughter will it bring?
I tell you this, my loving one
My grandchild oh so dear
The truth about this silver coin
That you might wish to hear
Now take up the silver coin
Travel back in time with me
And think of those who owned it
In your mind now can you see?
To touch the silver dollar
And to make the feeling last
Is to touch all those who held it
And to touch the history past
To hold it and to feel it
Is to hold the spirits trapped therein
To think of where it lingered
And to wonder where its been
When we think of those who owned it
Then we think of those who tried
To give you all you wish for
From the toil for which they died
Well, I'll tell you of this silver coin
And how it comes to you
From a mine in Colorado
Or the mountains of Peru
Perhaps it's silver touched The Inca
Upon his emerald crown
Or was inlaid in the Spanish sword
That brought the empire down
Valley Forge or Flanders Field
Or perhaps on Concord Green
At Shiloh Church or Gettysburg
Who knows what the silvers' seen?
The silver out of which it's made
It self has witnessed much
But then a coin from it was made
And again felt history's touch
On a birthday or a Christmas
Perhaps it bought a little toy
And delighted those who got it
A little frontier girl or boy
A whiskey for a cowboy
In some small Texas town
Who had to wash away the trail dust
So he laid this dollar down
A Yank or Rebel soldier
Might have held it in his hand
A groom may have used this dollar
To buy his loved one's wedding band
It may just have been there
That day when all seemed lost
When fire rained down on Hawaii's Pearl
Perhaps this dollar saw the cost
Of what use is this silver coin?
Oh, my princess, don't you see?
That what I give you with this gift
Is a piece of history
poem by William Bayless
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A Coin Of Little Worth
I have seen and liked
silver coins stamped
in ancient Greece Rome
these usually carry the image
of supposedly great men
kings emperors face in profile
but their deeds were often
treacherous harsh cruel
wars these started for more
wealth slaves land to rule
my favourite coin
is a very small coin
tiny of little worth
that a woman with nothing
once gave at the temple
a very very long time ago
My Lord praised her
for giving all her livelihood
for giving more than
all gathered rich worshippers
combined because
proud rich gave a percentage
from all their amassed profit
a percentage calculated
based upon requirements of
law; but a poor woman gave
everything she had
based upon her own giving heart
it is written how Jesus sat down;
with the treasury chests in view
observing how the crowd dropped
money into the treasury chests;
many rich people were dropping in
many coins however a poor
widow woman dropped in only two
small coins which had very little value;
these coins became known as the widow's mite.
Jesus called his disciples and said to them
"Truly I say to YOU that this poor widow
dropped in more than all those dropping
money into the treasury chests; for they
all dropped in out of their surplus,
but she dropped in all of what
she had, her whole living." Mark 12: 41-44.
For the love of God.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Minstrel Boy
Whos gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin?
Whos gonna let it roll?
Whos gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin?
Whos gonna let it down easy to save his soul?
Oh, luckys been drivin a long, long time
And now hes stuck on top of the hill.
With twelve forward gears, its been a long hard climb,
And with all of them ladies, though, hes lonely still.
Whos gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin?
Whos gonna let it roll?
Whos gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin?
Whos gonna let it down easy to save his soul?
Well, he deep in number and heavy in toil,
Mighty mockingbird, he still has such a heavy load.
Beneath his boundries, what more can I tell,
With all of his travlin, but Im still on that road.
Whos gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin?
Whos gonna let it roll?
Whos gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin?
Whos gonna let it down easy to save his soul?
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mystery of the Mind Poem - The Mind reveals secrets to me
i looked at
the two notes
and as soon as
i wanted to put
them into my wallet
my mind nudged me
to reexamine them
as there were something
unique about them
'what? are you talking again? '
it hummed a sigh in me
i took several looks
'what? another look?
arent they just similar
two dollar notes? '
he nudged again
'well, it can only be the numbers'
i added them up and came
to the same figure
'well next time give me
the a prize number
of a national lottery draw? '
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.
quote by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I bought it for a dollar
One of the Dollar tree stores stands at the Lincoln avenue in Anaheim
I peeped in and I found an old dollar coin accidentally stuck in a corner of my shy wallet.
I couldn't believe and it's a dollar
The book 'Ronnie'; Ronnie.Wood of Rolling Stones
Who's autobiographical novel.
He drifted on a river from a family of water gypsies.
A fine musician and a radical painter too.
Going through the few pages of his book
I found his creativity.
He quoted an African proverb from a Charles.Dicken's novel
'The Sun does not forget a Village just because it's small.'
I too feel like a gypsy and I watched my soul's compass.
Where I am now far from my motherland?
I request my friends to bury my body here and send the soul to my tiny tear dropp Island one day.
[I can't say what the future holds for me, But I can tell you I am not finished yet.] -Ronnie.Wood-
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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All the perplexities, confusion and distress in America arise, not from defects in their Constitution or Confederation, not from want of honor or virtue, so much as from the downright ignorance of the nature of coin, credit and circulation.
quote by John Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Quiet Poem
When music is far enough away
the eyelid does not often move
and objects are still as lavender
without breath or distant rejoinder.
The cloud is then so subtly dragged
away by the silver flying machine
that the thought of it alone echoes
unbelievably; the sound of the motor falls
like a coin toward the ocean's floor
and the eye does not flicker
as it does when in the loud sun a coin
rises and nicks the near air. Now,
slowly, the heart breathes to music
while the coins lie in wet yellow sand.
poem by Frank O'Hara
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Coin
Every coin has two side
sun is shine
sun is smile
sun is hope
sun is hot
Night is scared
night is dark
dark is nothing
but it is save
Robber with gun
police with gun
what is good
what is bad
coin has two side
we can chose
Item is a tool
bad and good we can chose
poem by Leung Yutung
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Feel The Pinch
From time to time in plain clothes
a man who goes everywhere in a placid mood
for his living.
Still he could not find a pinnacle.
His wallet has a disease called ' perishable'.
Only coins remain and the currency notes evaporate.
The breadwinner; a rolling stone
will never gather moss
and who destined to be a loner
in his lifetime.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Koin Untuk Prita (Coins for Prita)
cring, cring
berjatuhan koin-koin
cring, cring
hati si miskin memanggil
cring, cring
koin kecil berarti penting
cring, cring
bila bersama tak ada yang tak mungkin
cring, cring
koin-koin terus berdering
cring, cring
tangan si kecil memberi
cring, cring
sedikit koin yang dikira tak berarti
cring, cring
bila bersatu bukit pun benar-benar jadi
klink, klink
coins dropping
klink, klink
the heart of poor calling
klink, klink
small coin for important meaning
klink, klink
if together impossible is nothing
klink, klink
coins keep ringing
klink, klink
little hands giving
klink, klink
small coin thought has no meaning
klink, klink
if united the hill really building
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Who is a beggar and who is not
Take your coin, I am no beggar
In our country
Beggars are less uncommon
They are there anywhere
Except
Cemeteries
Burial ground and
Cremation yard
They beg you so pathetically
That you are forced to dropp a coin
Pavements invariably
Irrespective of the city
House beggars
You can make out them
By the way they look
Women beg
Pointing to us the little child
They carry on their waist
Old ladies too beg
And they station themselves
Against you in your path
Making it difficult for you
To step ahead further
While you are on a wait
Either bus stop
Rail station
Park or beach
Some one or the other appear before you
Begging
Truly speaking
It hurts me to turn away someone
Asking for alms
Without getting them something
Some hold the view
That they need not help beggars
As they are not the one
Who made beggars beg
Begging should be discouraged
And to do that
Beggars should not be helped
Is some others’ view point
I am not quite sure
Whether to help beggars or not
I normally dropp a coin of least denomination
In the begging bowl or in the opened up palms of a beggar
Provided I have the coin
If I do not have a coin to part with
Or if I do not have the mind to help
I muster the strength
To tell the beggar
That I have no changes to spare
This morning
I was rushing to the office
After getting down from the bus
I saw a middle aged male
Who was rolling down on the tar topped road
Sitting on roller-fixed wooden plank
Pushing with the help of has hands
It appeared he had no legs
I decided to help him with a coin
As I got nearer
I came to understand that he was polio affected
Both his legs becoming non functional
Of late, thin and feeble
I ran my hand through my left pant pocket
Got hold of a coin of a better denomination
Than the one I normally prefer to drop
Stood by his side
As he was enjoying a puff of a lighted cigarette
On his lips
He did not lift his face
Having waited for some seconds
I decided to dropp that coin
I did the same
And started going towards office
I heard the rolling of wheels
When I looked back
The person on the wheel-fixed plank
Pointed his right index finger
Towards the dropped coin
About four metres on the backside
And said curtly
Take your coin
I am no beggar
As I reached the spot
And picked up the coin
I felt too small of me
And in fact, beg for the knowledge
As to know
Who is a beggar and who is not
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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The Path of a Gambler
A man sought coin in a voluminous fashion,
a few more pounds to add to his loot,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
A father has lost his son to a single action;
when he craved to add to the tempting fruit,
a man sought coin in a voluminous fashion.
His gambler's heart soon became a beacon;
racing, waiting for a spotter's toot,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
This one risk is only but a fraction
of the goal which he was to pursuit.
a man sought coin in a voluminous fashion.
When his hands started to feel the burden,
one that he had been too blind to compute,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
When his bets were lost, he heard a beckon,
he sought to close the the tribute.
A man sought coin in a voluminous fashion,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
poem by Michael Roysdon
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The Dry Cleaner From Des Moines
Words by joni mitchell
Music by charles mingus
Im down to a roll of dimes
Im stalking the slot thats hot
I keep hearing bells all around me
Jingling in the lucky jackpots
They keep you tantalized
They keep you reaching for your wallet
Here in fools paradise!
I talked to a cat from des moines
He said he ran a cleaning plant
That cat was clanking with coin
Well, he must have had a genie in a lamp
cause every time--i dropped a dime--i blew it
He kept ringing bells
Nothing to it!
He got three oranges
Three lemons
Three cherries
Three plums
Im losing my taste for fruit
Watching the dry cleaner do it
Like midas in a polyester suit
Its all luck!
Its just luck!
You get a little lucky and you make a little money!
I followed him down the strip
He picked out a booth at circus circus
Where the cowgirls fill the room
With their big balloons
The cleaner was pitching with purpose!
He had dinos and pooh bears
And lions--pink and blue there
He couldnt lose there!
Des moines was stacking the chips
Raking off the tables
Ringing the bandits bells
This is a story thats a drag to tell
(in some ways)
Since I lost every dime
I laid on the line
But the cleaner from des moines
Could put a coin
In the door of a john
And get twenty for one
Its just luck!
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coin
Maybe it is because of the fog
that I caress you,
because all around me are fog,
dissolved shapes, things lacking
precision or definition,
things that turn into some vague
something without dimension.
I caress you, coin.
Nightfall in December
and you here in my hand, you,
precisely contoured, you, hard
resistant existence
with your body of fine silver.
Coin
with a number that cannot be conquered
by doubt or by fog
and with a face
that will never doubt,
face of an ancient queen, looking at me.
poem by Pedro Salinas y Serrano
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A bitter pill implies where I belong
I signed the back of a lottery ticket, filled the name and address clearly.
The night is sleeping but still I am awake in a Gas station to fulfill the boisterous vehicles.
I hear a whisper in my decaying wallet.
'Hey! Dear this is not the winning ticket exactly but a day would be appeared and bring you the lucky chance soon.' The lottery muttered.
After a lazy yawn I speak to myself;
'Nowadays the papers talk much while the poor people shut their mouths as nothing to put in for digest.'
* To Gheorghe Zamfir!
Your divine magical pan flute's notes impress me how to grab the fleeing life?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Careers
A career has overtaken me for it is easier than me,
You fight more than this to satisfy, to push the other.
Pulling a nail out of the wall means too much strength,
It entails the right career to be followed, and the real coin.
A professional is a man or woman in headaches,
The career is a job of brilliance that helped me further
And aided others, for my wallet is gone,
My purse is spent on the real conversation of thoughts.
poem by Naveed Akram
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