The Ace Trumps a King
You have no cards left to play
No peace prize for you
The soft snowy body,the cute puffy face
The bulky swift creature,is never behind in race
The fully stretched being,often pretends to sleep
But,is always vigilant, having an eye to keep
Yor are dearest to me,no doubt...you are an Ace!!
TRUMP SAYS I HOLD CARD
IRAN SAYS NOT SO FAST PARD
THIS HERE IS OUR YARD
Even as the forest grew thin and frail,
The trees kept cheering the axe.
For the axe was cunning — smooth with speech,
And wore a handle carved from their flesh.
It whispered, “I am one of you,”
And they believed —
As the sound of chopping became their anthem,
And their roots trembled beneath their faith.
They fell, one by one,
Singing loyalty to their destroyer —
Until the forest was gone,
And only the axe remained,
Lonely, with nothing left to cut.
Everybody loved his performances but he can't perform anymore.
Ace Frehley has died after having a fall at the age of seventy-four.
He was a man who millions of people will miss.
Frehley did a fantastic job as a member of KISS.
When KISS became a success, it was partly because of Ace's impact.
This man helped to make KISS a legendary band and that's a fact.
Because of his contribution, KISS is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
He has died and because of that, Rock and Roll will never be the same.
My deceased friend went to a KISS concert when they performed in Tennessee.
If the world lasts for a million more years, people will never forget Ace Frehley.
[Dedicated to Ace Frehley (1951-2025) who died on October 16, 2025]
The zephyr on the weather vane
now pointing North
and this constant back and forth
Finally taking Standing Hampton down Candy Cane Lane
The Red Barron shot down in flames
(Thanks for the tour of the upper balcony M'lady)
Cold cards cold sweat shuffling cheques
Bait in the water but no one bets
Blinds drag slow the table is tight
Limp to the river it’s hunting night
Sharks circle the weak swim near
I smell blood my time is here
Pocket hustle slick and clean
They chase a wheel they chase a dream
False bravado overplayed
A reckless wager and price unpaid
Flop flips hot my hammer lands
They never saw the reaper’s hand
One step two steps fourth street stroll
A fool’s last chance a final toll
River rolls their fate is set
All in blind one last regret
Their chips are mine their dream undone
I lift the pot the night is won
Dust their stack send them back
ATM bound while I fade to black
In the memory of my imagination
I recall the love of happiness.
Congruously convened in small cracks,
Between doubt and ecstasy.
Surfing through ever-similar variances,
Effused with vague purpose and undefined vigor,
I groove with the best.
And yeast with the least.
Let's take the adventure.
With endless overture.
I'll wrap you in my loving embrace.
My fox among the foal.
My ace in the hole.
A tarot reading was offered
The ace of pentacles drawn
New beginnings she said
She had a kind face
Opportunities you might not have thought of
Potential of making money
A fresh start
I was beginning to like this card
buckle up
a hundred dollars
at the poker table
gives you
less time then you think
only an ace
could kill the mood
they had the ace
Ace…you are done
Atlantic City won
Filling my cup over with all of the overflowing love
For my past and my present lovers sent from up above.
Indeed it was through them I have found true peace in mutual suave.
Neighbor’s son, Charley Rabbit was apparently some kind of flying ace.
He was one of the few rabbit pilots in world war two to keep the pace.
Parents went on and on about his exploits, it was practically a disgrace.
Not one of these unbelievable stories came with a sliver of grace.
I figured Charley Rabbit would be as annoying to me as a can of mace.
He was a kind man, however, and showed me a truly warm, eager face.
I no longer hold his parents’ enthusiasm against this handsome flying ace.
Snoopy was slamming through the skies
At top speed, stealthier than the other fliers
Flying ace of the year, he assured anyone who would listen
Tweety bird sat in the co-pilot seat, knowing he’d best be quiet
They looped and whorled and rat-a-tatted the enemy
Guns blazing, fierce and untouched.
Sixty-two bullet holes, and they were unscathed.
Snoopy stretched his hand out and knocked over his water bottle.
Towards thy very best
I project a saving nest
To save the wordy test
From the earthly pest
And to luck, leave the rest
As pure as a blank page
That gets poets' hearts into cage
The worries and bubbles of age
Get some disengage
And others enrage
Don't mind them-- every open tongue
Measuring the troubles of failed lung
Restrains those awesome lines unsung
Drown those swimmers so young
Without a practical provisional aqualung
You, be sure thy laboring sight
Travels horizon beyond their plight
And relinquish to ignite souls' lights
Poked amidst truth and lie to benight
Before thy ever gracious sprite, alights
Thanks for the nomination
I enjoyed all expressed intentions
Though there are some to mention
Dragging my contentious attention
Projecting a consequential convention
I'm senile, demented, a has been, a dud,
At least that's the story, the Republican fad,
Yet little they know in their haste to throw dirt,
That they're helping my cause with their views so absurd.
Each arrow they fly with anger and speed
Is akin to a child that as yet doesn't read,
It has no direction it lands off its mark,
Its aim misaligned, a shot in the dark.
But let them continue, this path suits me fine,
For while they're distracted I follow my line
Of making great changes, passing new laws,
Pushing them through despite the known flaws.
My ace up the sleeve I've yet to pull out,
The one that will make my enemies shout,
Trump’s just my ticket to another 4 years
Flooding Republicans in a torrent of tears.
So let him continue to posture and shout,
Instilling in voters that lingering doubt,
The choice never clearer between him and me
And just like the last time I’ll win out you'll see.
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