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Unreal estate
The law stole my home—
that batten of here and pretty
condemned
like a chance god
or the last state’s coin.
Poems on the topic: coin
Poems on the topic “coin” on Poets.by.
Purchase
I carry a private trouble on a walk:
a new coin, good in the stamp
and bad in the money.
I have my dinner with it—
hard and cold.
Coin
of the realm
real
even when plucked
from a magician’s ear
or exchanged
for better weather
its very ununiqueness
gives it value
its modularity
makes it fit to toss
edged in ridges
like a worn gear
it’s what one does
to new phrases
hoping they’ll
gain currency
The Coin
Into my heart's treasury
I slipped a coin
That time cannot take
Nor a thief purloin,--
Oh better than the minting
Of a gold-crowned king
Is the safe-kept memory
Of a lovely thing.
The Harlem Dancer
Applauding youths laughed with young prostitutes
And watched her perfect, half-clothed body sway;
Her voice was like the sound of blended flutes
Blown by black players upon a picnic day.
She sang and danced on gracefully and calm,
The light gauze hanging loose about her form;
To me she seemed a proudly-swaying palm
Grown lovelier for passing through a storm.
Upon her swarthy neck black shiny curls
Luxuriant fell; and tossing coins in praise,
The wine-flushed, bold-eyed boys, and even the girls,
Devoured her shape with eager, passionate gaze;
But looking at her falsely-smiling face,
I knew her self was not in that strange place.
Merchandise
I MADE a song one morning.
Sitting in the shade under the hornbeam hedge.
I played it on my pipe.
And the clear notes delighted me.
And the little hedge-sparrows and the chipmunks
Also seemed pleased.
So I was very proud
That I had made so good a song.
Would you like to hear my song ?
I will play it to you
As I did that evening to my Beloved,
Standing on the moon-bright cobbles
Underneath her window.
But you are not my Beloved,
You must give me a silver shilling.
Round and glittering like the moon.
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