Home ⇒ 📌Connie Wanek ⇒ E Coin Behind Your Ear
E 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.
(2 votes, average: 3.50 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- A Coin YOUR western heads here cast on money, You are the two that fade away together, Partners in the mist. Lunging buffalo shoulder, Lean Indian face, We who come after where you are gone Salute your forms on the new nickel. You are To us: The past. Runners On the prairie: Good-by....
- Dancing Tango Oh, Orlando! Remember the night we danced Quietly on the sands where music Was played? Your words were Wonderers, said quietly In the pockets of my ears. Oh, Esphahan! With your turquoise blue mosques And lovers hiding under the sands By the Zayandehrood and its haunting Blue skies. Still the words did Wonders when they […]...
- Munition Maker I am the Cannon King, behold! I perish on a throne of gold. With forest far and turret high, Renowned and rajah-rich am I. My father was, and his before, With wealth we owe to war on war; But let no potentate be proud. . . There are no pockets in a shroud. By nature […]...
- 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
- Place for a Third Nothing to say to all those marriages! She had made three herself to three of his. The score was even for them, three to three. But come to die she found she cared so much: She thought of children in a burial row; Three children in a burial row were sad. One man’s three women […]...
- Lies About Love We are a liars, because The truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow, Whereas letters are fixed, And we live by the letter of truth. The love I feel for my friend, this year, Is different from the love I felt last year. If it were not so, it would be a lie. Yet we […]...
- The Identification So you think its Stephen? Then I’d best make sure Be on the safe side as it were. Ah, theres been a mistake. The hair You see, its black, now Stephens fair… Whats that? The explosion? Of course, burnt black. Silly of me. I should have known. Then lets get on. The face, is that […]...
- Alms My heart is what it was before, A house where people come and go; But it is winter with your love, The sashes are beset with snow. I light the lamp and lay the cloth, I blow the coals to blaze again; But it is winter with your love, The frost is thick upon the […]...
- September 1961 This is the year the old ones, The old great ones Leave us alone on the road. The road leads to the sea. We have the words in our pockets, Obscure directions. The old ones Have taken away the light of their presence, We see it moving away over a hill Off to one side. […]...
- Sonnet XXXIII: I Wake I wake! delusive phantoms hence, away! Tempt not the weakness of a lover’s breast; The softest breeze can shake the halcyon’s nest, And lightest clouds o’ercast the dawning ray! ‘Twas but a vision! Now, the star of day Peers, like a gem on Aetna’s burning crest! Wellcome, ye Hills, with golden vintage drest; Sicilian forests […]...
- Poor Peter Blind Peter Piper used to play All up and down the city; I’d often meet him on my way, And throw a coin for pity. But all amid his sparkling tones His ear was quick as any To catch upon the cobble-stones The jingle of my penny. And as upon a day that shone He […]...
- In a Vale WHEN I was young, we dwelt in a vale By a misty fen that rang all night, And thus it was the maidens pale I knew so well, whose garments trail Across the reeds to a window light. The fen had every kind of bloom, And for every kind there was a face, And a […]...
- Oh! Arranmore, Loved Arranmore Oh! Arranmore, loved Arranmore, How oft I dream of thee, And of those days when, by thy shore, I wander’d young and free. Full many a path I’ve tried, since then, Through pleasure’s flowery maze, But ne’er could find the bliss again I felt in those sweet days. How blithe upon thy breezy cliffs At […]...
- Remembrance A red berry grows In the south country The boughs are full of them When spring arrives. Gather some, I pray, And fill your pockets These are the best Forget-me-knots!...
- The Frost Spirit He comes, – he comes, – the Frost Spirit comes! You may trace his footsteps now On the naked woods and the blasted fields And the brown hill’s withered brow. He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees Where their pleasant green came forth, And the winds, which follow wherever he goes, Have […]...
- Dream Song 37: Three around the Old Gentleman His malice was a pimple down his good Big face, with its sly eyes. I must be sorry Mr Frost has left: I like it so less I don’t understood— He couldn’t hear or see well—all we sift— But this is a bad story. He had fine stories and was another man In private; difficult, […]...
- It was not Death, for I stood up It was not Death, for I stood up, And all the Dead, lie down It was not Night, for all the Bells Put out their Tongues, for Noon. It was not Frost, for on my Flesh I felt Siroccos crawl Nor Fire for just my Marble feet Could keep a Chancel, cool And yet, it […]...
- On Receiving News of the War Snow is a strange white word. No ice or frost Has asked of bud or bird For Winter’s cost. Yet ice and frost and snow From earth to sky This Summer land doth know. No man knows why. In all men’s hearts it is. Some spirit old Hath turned with malign kiss Our lives to […]...
- The Fairies Break Their Dances The fairies break their dances And leave the printed lawn, And up from India glances The silver sail of dawn. The candles burn their sockets, The blinds let through the day, The young man feels his pockets And wonders what’s to pay....
- The Jubilee Sov'reign On Jubilee Day the Ramsbottoms Invited relations to tea, Including young Albert’s grandmother – An awkward old. . party, was she. She’d seen Queen Victoria’s accession And ‘er wedding to Albert (the Good) But she got quite upset when young Albert Asked ‘er ‘ow she’d got on in the Flood. She cast quite a damper […]...
- The Shame of Going Back The Shame of Going Back And the reason of your failure isn’t anybody’s fault When you haven’t got a billet, and the times are very slack, There is nothing that can spur you like the shame of going back; Crawling home with empty pockets, Going back hard-up; Oh! it’s then you learn the meaning of […]...
- Psalm 147 part 2 Summer and winter. A Song for Great Britain. O Britain, praise thy mighty God, And make his honors known abroad, He bid the ocean round thee flow; Not bars of brass could guard thee so. Thy children are secure and blest; Thy shores have peace, thy cities rest; He feeds thy sons with finest wheat, […]...
- The Frost of Death was on the Pane The Frost of Death was on the Pane “Secure your Flower” said he. Like Sailors fighting with a Leak We fought Mortality. Our passive Flower we held to Sea To Mountain To the Sun Yet even on his Scarlet shelf To crawl the Frost begun We pried him back Ourselves we wedged Himself and her […]...
- The Frightened Man In fear of the rich mouth I kissed the thin, Even that was a trap To snare me in. Even she, so long The frail, the scentless, Is become strong, And proves relentless. O, forget her praise, And how I sought her Through a hazardous maze By shafted water....
- To His Mistresse In your sterne beauty I can see Whatere in Aetna wonders bee; If coales out of the topp doe flye Hott flames doe gush out of your eye; If frost lye on the ground belowe Your breast is white and cold as snowe: The sparkes that sett my hart on fire Refuse to melt your […]...
- 1914 IV: The Dead These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth. These had seen movement, and heard music; known Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat […]...
- On Donne's Poetry ”With Donne, whose muse on dromedary trots, Wreathe iron pokers into true-love knots ; Rhyme’s sturdy cripple, fancy’s maze and clue, Wit’s forge and fire-blast, meaning’s press and screw.”...
- The Lost Drink I had spent the night in the watch-house My head was the size of three So I went and asked the chemist To fix up a drink for me; And he brewed it from various bottles With soda and plenty of ice, With something that smelt like lemon, And something that seemed like spice. It […]...
- This Little Bag This little bag I hope will prove To be not vainly made For, if you should a needle want It will afford you aid. And as we are about to part T’will serve another end, For when you look upon the Bag You’ll recollect your friend...
- A New Hymn Sing a song of men’s pyjamas, Half-past-six has got a pair, And he’s wearing them this evening, And he’s looking such a dear. Sing a song of frocks with pockets I have got one, it is so’s I can use my ‘nitial hankies Every time I blow my nose....
- New Eyes Each Year New eyes each year Find old books here, And new books, too, Old eyes renew; So youth and age Like ink and page In this house join, Minting new coin....
- The Ballad Of A Bachelor Listen, ladies, while I sing The ballad of John Henry King. John Henry was a bachelor, His age was thirty-three or four. Two maids for his affection vied, And each desired to be his bride, And bravely did they strive to bring Unto their feet John Henry King. John Henry liked them both so well, […]...
- Of Course I prayed Of Course I prayed And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird had stamped her foot And cried “Give Me” My Reason Life I had not had but for Yourself ‘Twere better Charity To leave me in the Atom’s Tomb Merry, and Nought, and gay, and numb Than this […]...
- When the Frost is on the Punkin When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock, And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin’ turkey-cock, And the clackin’ of the guineys, and the cluckin’ of the hens, And the rooster’s hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence; O, it’s then’s the times a feller is a-feelin’ […]...
- The Stars are old, that stood for me The Stars are old, that stood for me The West a little worn Yet newer glows the only Gold I ever cared to earn Presuming on that lone result Her infinite disdain But vanquished her with my defeat ‘Twas Victory was slain....
- Winter Heavens Sharp is the night, but stars with frost alive Leap off the rim of earth across the dome. It is a night to make the heavens our home More than the nest whereto apace we strive. Lengths down our road each fir-tree seems a hive, In swarms outrushing from the golden comb. They waken waves […]...
- Bone-fable one morning the bone was there Set in the centre of waste ground Against the early morning sun The frost along its concave rim Sparkled – raised a hundredfold The price a passing dog Would place on it but the dogs Who came (barking amongst themselves About the food shining at them Across the rubbled […]...
- A Postcard From The Volcano Children picking up our bones Will never know that these were once As quick as foxes on the hill; And that in autumn, when the grapes Made sharp air sharper by their smell These had a being, breathing frost; And least will guess that with our bones We left much more, left what still is […]...
- 7. Ah, woe is me, my Mother dear AH, woe is me, my mother dear! A man of strife ye’ve born me: For sair contention I maun bear; They hate, revile, and scorn me. I ne’er could lend on bill or band, That five per cent. might blest me; And borrowing, on the tither hand, The deil a ane wad trust me. Yet […]...
- Put up my lute! Put up my lute! What of my Music! Since the sole ear I cared to charm Passive as Granite laps My Music Sobbing will suit as well as psalm! Would but the “Memnon” of the Desert Teach me the strain That vanquished Him When He surrendered to the Sunrise Maybe that would awaken them!...
« Pilgrims