My money is words of currency banked on paper
Seldom robbed in early morning caper
I don’t make change, but I make many many changes, but at least loans are rare.
A good thesaurus, my investment adviser, with my dictionary of direction I pair
For my economy of rhyme
Produces interest all the time
I am rich of words in my poetic world, but jingling change in reality is all that’s heard
For bills reside in my mail box, not my wallets slots
And the only credit I’ve got is of poetic stock
For practice I rhyme my IOUs
And try to use my best rhythmic cadenced lilt for debtors anger to defuse
But so long as I can occasionally amuse, and paper, my words imbue
I don’t care if I amass more then a penny or two
For money to me would be something strange and new
And anyways I’d probably just do what I already do
So I write my two cents on what to me makes sense
And I usually struggle for the right tense
But at the end of the day, I bank my paragraphs away, and lock up my loose words of petty cash in the vault of my brain
To cash in for tomorrow’s refrain
Or save for some future obscure couplet train
I am a starving artist poor
With a cash flow problem that’s hard to ignore
And my landlord my well soon show me the door
But in my head words war and I have stashed away for a rainy day, a few prose I just simply adore
So so long as my works sore, what matter is it if I am monetarily poor
So long as I am surrounded by poetic lore
And the occasionally double entendre I can score
maybe too I can broker between the words at war an armistice
And treat truncated broken wrecked redundant thoughts like a pharmacist
Then it’s money to me
The cash equivalency isn’t important you see
For this is all I want to be
(Though I wouldn’t turn down a small cash bill donation, unless of course it’s was a three. )
— W. B.
Gollum’$ New Riddle
Just what does it have in it’s….
The question certainly seemed legit
I happened upon a guy I adore
Bare feet on a cedar bark floor
In the middle of a small forest path
Standing there, smiling at me
He said ‘Hello Kath’.!!
Bold,brassy like S.Plath
I happened to glance at his pants
I shamelessly always do..
I have a crush on this man,it’s true
Part of an imaginary romance
Laughingly I wait for my chance.
For him notice me..
I am mad for him.
My heart full to the brim
Interestingly,my curiosity set free
I stood leaning against a old strong tree
Grinning ever so cunningly….
I darted my eyes for a second look
My whole self shook
Oh my goose may be cooked..!
I wanted ask, is that perhaps..?
What could it be..under blue denim wraps?
Oh,oh just to know what did I see?
Possibly a present just for me.?
The puzzle pieces turned
My imagination burned
I mean seriously..
No one with eyes could not notice !
I care,I care..many iota’s
Oh I am just so full of cockiness!
Something straining,bursting out of
Ratty blue jean Pocketsesses..
Rolled up spare sock-etseses.?
I saw the bold outline of something there
I wanted to ask
But would he have shared
Could I have dared
I really really do care
Was I truly prepared
To know -did that item just grow.?
I’d really like to know
A mouse, a pet frog?
Oh yes I’m agog
What does it have in it’s….
A large stack of cash?
I may be just maybe a mite too brash
So want to ask
Supplies for a caper.?
A rolled up local newspaper
The Surrey Newsleader.?
Is it bark from a piece of cedar
A boxed up,wrapped up friendship ring?
To make one lucky woman’s heart sing
The symbols with in my lusty heart
Stop and restart
Clanged and clashed
I tore my eyes away.
Looked up..found him eye to eye
I truly do love this guy
What is this hidden item ?
I’d ask but I’m proud.
To keep from speaking rashly aloud
My lips together I bite’em
Was he ‘just happy’ to greet me..?
I am weak in the knees
Someone get a chair quick.. seat me.!!
But-Oh the need to know
My curiosity certainly grows
Oh I long to
Take off all the lock’et’sess
Check out what’s in those pocket’ses
Tell Me,show me please
Such a tease, Don’t you agree?
My mind wanders,wonders
Yes- Just what does it have in it’s…