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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Coin On The Floor
Alas, a little boy cries besides a woman!
What aileth thee son? Asked i of the little lad!
I picked a coin off the floor and my mama spanked me for doing that! He said!
Ho madam? What meaneth thee by that? Men dig up the earth for golds and diamonds for to sell and get money!
Men drill and mine the unders of the lands and the seas for resources for to sell and to get money!
Why then beat ye a lad who had neither dug-up the earth nor gone under the seas or lands for money, asked i!
Trully, he is yet to begin taking wealth from the earth, he simply picked a coin off the surface and ye chastise him for it? What then would ye do when he begins to mine the same earth and dig it up for to get minerals to sell for this same money? Would ye kill him? Asked i....
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Proverbs are in the world of thought what gold coin is in the world of business - great value in small compass, and equally current among all people. Sometimes the proverb may be false, the coin counterfeit, but in both cases the false proves the value of the true.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Coin Of Fate
In my hand is my coin of fate
It tells me at who I am to project my hate
With just a flip of the coin we shall see
What fate has determined what is your destiny
On one side is written of forgiviness and prayer
The other side is covered in scratches and shown little care
If me catching the side with prayer is your fate
Then you will be left alone and safe from my hate
But if the side displayed is the latter
Then save your breathe for your pleas will not matter
You will meet the side of me that is deaf to your cries
And know that anyone who meet this twisted being inside me dies
So, now let us play my little game
Let us see what fate has in store
*Flips the coin*
Well, it seems that I will stay tame
What say we play once more
poem by Vasto Grom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You Want a Poem?
You want a poem?
Toss a coin.
Near a pond of wading ducks.
When the ducks begin to waddle out...
Put goggles on,
And thrash about!
And if you find your coin...
No longer will your sentiments,
Be found annoying.
And you will find the experience of this,
Worthy of staging for listeners to hear...
Your schtick,
As it drips from pond drenched lips.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Naresh Sonee Gave A Run
Once on road a male Naresh Sonee was furiously acting funny,
On to get hold of some body, he was continuously running,
People stopped him, and asked - “Why the hell you are so urgently running? ”,
'To catch hold the former runner, who is trying hard to escape while dodging',
Naresh Sonee was asked by people, Some on by crossers-n-passer,
“Is the one to whom after you are running robber else murderer? ”,
“Had he fingered or flirt your wife, sister, daughter, or kidnap your child, either?
Naresh Sonee replied running in haste, “No, he is not any, but a cheater ',
The onlookers demanded “Had the former runner cheated some dollars or coin?
Naresh Sonee replied, “No, I have listened to all of his poems, he is not listening mine”
poem by Naresh Sonee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Coin Behind Your Ear
Before you knew you owned it
it was gone, stolen, and you were a fool.
How you never felt it is the wonder,
heavy and thick,
lodged deep in your hair like a burr.
You still see the smile of the magician
as he turned the coin in his long fingers,
which had so disturbed your ear
with their caress. You watched him
lift it into the light, bright as frost,
and slip it into his maze of pockets.
You felt vainly behind your ear
but there was no second coin,
nothing to tempt him back.
No one cared to know why he did it,
only how.
Submitted by Venus
poem by Connie Wanek
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Little Chimney Sweep - Victorian Times
What is above all these chimneys, I asked the young lad,
The chimney sweep boy replied,
Why Sir, it's the sky which is sometimes so blue,
That when I look up and glance at the view,
Such glory cannot be denied.
What lies in that sky then, I asked the young lad,
The boy gazing up now replied,
Oh Sir, clouds and sunshine, at night moon and stars,
Planets like Jupiter, Saturn and Mars,
What wonders out there can be spied?
Is your work very unbearable, I asked the young lad,
Most times Sir, it is, he replied,
From dawn until dusk, I'm climbing to sweep,
The soot from the chimneys, for my food and my keep,
My Master cannot be defied.
Do you 'welcome' the sky, I asked the young lad,
When I'm climbing, I do, he replied,
It's my friend when it's dark and the way up is hard,
Because sometimes I get burn't and then badly scarred,
There's many a time I have cried.
What then do you wish for, I asked the young lad,
With yearning, he slowly replied,
I would love to be free and fly like the birds,
Way up in the sky, and if I had the words,
Write about how I'd feel like inside.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The most humiliating moment
The most humiliating moment in my life
Was when I was seven
To my aunt's house
Which had no mouse
I and my father were going
With me cooing
In a traffic block we got ourselves in
I put the cover of the nuts in the nearby dust-bin
A beggar banged on the car's window
And my father opened it
He asked some money
And myfather replied
'I have none'
The beggar looked
sorrowfully at my father
And tossing In a coin
through the window
Went on his way
While my father sat
with his mouth open!
poem by Athul KrishnaA
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Treasure Box
So soon this time
melts away
like you;
my common sense
sometimes
leaves me too
like you.
Often I am blind
and cannot see
the You before me;
many times I need
help to see
desperately
from you.
I lay down with you
to make peace
but cannot speak
the words;
I want to say I love you
but can only buy a present
which only signals how I feel
but is not what I feel.
Chocolates are not
a human heart.
Many times I want to reach
out you
but feel I cannot spare the hug
you need.
I'm always on the edge of hesitancy
feeling I cannot spare the Me
locked away in my small
meager
treasure box.
Nary a coin there
I feel
can leave,
and I guard even small
leavings
jealously.
The wonder is
I think,
such meager treasure box pickings
I have,
I think
I have to protect;
because it is always closed
it does not easily release
scarce
feeling coin;
but then again
it is never open
to receive
new coins,
bequeathed.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!