Best Poker Poems
The suicidal King and the one eyed Jack
Were perusing the bar for a late evening snack
"How's her?" asked the Jack.
"Too thin," said the King.
"I like the women...
with bottoms that swing."
"How's she?" asked the King.
"Too plump," said the Jack.
"I like the women...
with a nice tight rack."
The Queen of Hearts pulled her panties up with a snap
And shoved The Beast's craw off her god forsaken lap
Shut her eyes, held her breath and rolled out of bed
And tiptoed out the door
Without a word said,
The Beast was OK
An Ace he was not
Confused, she strolled to the bar
for a late evening shot
"You pig," cried the Queen
"Who me?" pleaded the King.
"I can't believe you have the decency
To still wear your ring."
The king looked her up and down,
sole to soul and foot to crown
He knew something was wrong,
almost RIGHT AWAY
For one, there was a smile on her face
That seemed to last ALL DAY
"You ****," cried the King
"Who me?" questioned the Red Ace
"Not you!" said both King and Queen
"How could you stand there and lie to my face
with your button half undone
and your stockings out of place?"
"How could you?" cried the King.
"You don't deserve to wear that crown
With your bra strap twisted up
And your dress falling down."
"I'm leaving," protested the Queen
And she would've I know
Except sometimes
Love waits until the last minute to show
"Wait," cried the King, but he stopped
He had decided to call her bluff
And he turned his back
Even though it was tough
Because also sometimes
Loving someone just isn't Enough.
By: Joseph DeMarco
She didn’t play poker so well.
Her bluff was as clear as a bell.
Her insides would quaver
So much that they gave her
A hell of a smell of a tell.
Politics is a cat-and-mouse poker game,
Some play it well,
others not so much
Amateurs show their hidden hand,
they got an easy-to-spot tell
But the old pros are the best cons,
selling you wet dreams from a dry well
It’s a two-party poker game in the U.S. of A,
has been like this now forever and a day
... at least it seems that way
There’s a lot of cheese in the budget mouse traps,
and a pack of donor dogs chasing those political cats
There’s a lot of dark scurrying by the greediest rats,
avoiding the crook catchers taking another light nap
Today, Democrats may be the cat,
tomorrow, they may be the rat
Yesterday, Republicans may have been the cat,
tomorrow, they may be the rat
Both wanna pocket the money, easy peasy ...
and to the people,
they ain’t planning on giving it back
If you ask them where is the stolen sack,
playing possum is how they’re gonna act
Pointing fingers is what they all do best,
then give more campaign promises next
Saying another election’s coming up,
so just reshuffle the marked deck
Playing possum poker is a grifter’s art,
gotta have a poker face and an empty heart
They love betting the farm, which is money you don’t got
Turning their pockets red to black, when they win the pot
Tip the shady dealer who tipped the hand,
the House always comes up Senate empty
time and time again
As both parties tell you, they’re gonna catch THOSE rats,
if you vote THEM in
The wife took a job that pays pretty fair
Combing out daylight from Trump's orange hair
Displaying his lust
Trump stares at her bust
Confirming an Ace can not beat a pair!
We are all sinners and we know it
Greed and temptation are some of the tools
That old Satan knows how to use well
God has no problem if we make a profit
If we do it his way and don't act like fools
Or we will be playing card in Hell
The Devil deals from the bottom of the deck
Always has a crooked ace up his sleeve
Tell you he has a ace in the hole
And just waiting for you to end up in a wreck
Unless you let God be the coach and believe
'Or the Devil will have your soul
God does not play cards with Satan
But he does know all the trick, he is the real deal
There is no gamble in his game
He know what Satan can do to a man
And make one dizzy with his old spinning wheel
You see there is no shame in his game
Has Lady Luck there to temp and lead you on
He know that he is a cheat and cannot do it alone
Making the stakes higher and you have to play
When it is over, they are both gone
Cut your throat and to the bone
Your best bet is let God be your dealer everyday
============================
I sat one evening in the park
upon a bench I thought my own
but as the dusk got down to dark,
I realized I was not alone
I hadn't seen from where he'd come
or got a strong look at his face
but he was there, green as a plumb
where had so long been empty space
He beamed a right polite 'Good day!'
but when I made to shake his hand,
he seemed from sight to fade away
like seaside foam into the sand
Then, as I stared in disbelief
down at the empty wooden seat,
his silhouette in bas-relief
appeared again, from head to feet!
I found this process very strange
but he explained as best he could,
he hadn't left, he'd only changed
his coloring to match the wood
We chatted when my wits returned,
his pattern shifting now and then.
He was a reptile, soon I learned
and called himself 'Cha-me-le-on'
As topics changed, I noticed that
his coloration changed in kind
and I could tell, throughout our chat,
exactly what was on his mind
Now, poker is my favorite sport,
I rake in fortunes with the card,
in part, because those of his sort
make taking babies candy hard
At that, I left but told my name
and address and the time of day
that I was next to hold a game,
inviting him to come and play
Game day arrived and he was there
but came in late to join the fun
and though he dived into his chair,
the show already had begun
I poured a scotch and dealt him in,
explaining how a hand was played,
then sat where I could watch his skin
and witness any change it made
Then he allowed us all to see,
a wealth bound tightly in a wad
that, awed, I vowed eventually,
would come round to myself, by God!
A patsy if there'd ever been,
I got him taught as best I could
but plotting, thought, "If this is sin,
then please, don't ask me to be good!"
In my delight, I failed to spot,
until the night progressed a pace,
my guest caught every other pot
with not one hint wrought on his face
and as he smiled, I realized
that though my friend no clue had shown,
I'd bet you twenty mint that I'd
supplied him plenty of my own!
Thus, Lizards Poker isn't fun
and you must hold your empty seats
if you meet old Cha-me-le-on...
He's just cold-blooded, plus - he CHEATS!
============================
Ollie the Octopus with his 9 brains
Broke his 3 hearts in a quick poker game
The blue blood that ran straight to his heart
Suddenly stopped before it could start
It didn't take long before he withered and died
And Ollie the octopus waved us goodbye
She was a wily cigar chompin' gambler with the moniker of Poker Alice,
Renowned throughout the west for her skill in many a gamblin' palace!
Poker Alice had a good head for countin' and with her very cunnin' guile,
(Plus her beauty), she mesmerized her opponents, amassin' quite a pile!
Poker Alice worked in saloons across the west as a faro and poker dealer.
She worked in Creede, Colorado for Bob Ford, that notorious stealer!
Because of her pious rearin' as a girl, she refused to work on Sundays,
But she was back smokin' a two-dollar stogie and dealin' cards on Mondays!
She drifted to Deadwood, South Dakota, where her notoriety was well known,
And married a house painter named Tubbs who was a deft gambler on his own!
Later she established a brothel near Fort Mead Army Post with her ill-gotten gain.
The place was small and she needed funds to fix the 'house' on Pleasure Lane!
To expand and recruit 'soiled doves' from Kansas City she applied for a loan.
The banker scratched his skull sayin', "I dunno! That's a risk into the unknown!"
She convinced him notin' that The Grand Old Army had an encampment near,
And for the soldiers' bent for visitin' hog ranches, he had nothin' at all to fear!
Things didn't go well since she plumb forgot The Methodist Preachers' Convention,
Convened each and every year and she hadn't figured on that intervention!
Poker Alice's fame and notoriety followed her well beyond her wanin' years.
She died after a gall bladder operation with her 'house' payments in arrears!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 in Don Johnson's " Your Old Ballad Or Rhyme - Best Of All Time" Contest
July 2011
If lighting was glory I be the chief to deliver the hammer impeach,
Take Ironic for animal instinct a card of hand for gamble we got a solution,
If to read a play or need a trade of hand I would be left for talented,
If a dog has a duplication and every dog has it’s day,
Put a a underdog in a suit and tie to save the day.
Penny Ante, happy hour
You could play and never go broke
Pennies have no buying power
Your financial risk is a joke
You could play and never go broke
Ante a penny into the pot
Your financial risk is a joke
Impossible to lose a lot
Ante a penny into the pot
Raise the bet a penny or two
Impossible to lose a lot
No matter how bad you may do
Raise the bet a penny or two
Pennies have no buying power
No matter how bad you may do
Penny Ante, happy hour
Submitted by: Charles Sides
For RHONDA & CYNDI'S PENNY PANTOUMS Poetry Contest
As i sit and read your work, I ponder on it long and hard, think to myself Do you know me. Have we meet . this oddness is fair but with the many games I explore . Lets play those cards you say. I look upon your hand and feel a loss. I wonder why my cards are not good enough .Maybe they are, I whisper for it is not cards I play. I throw them in the air, smile and declare i’ve won. Life can be many things but a thought thats delivered can be fun. Whether I know you or not , what you wrote it traveled deep .My face was within your words my heart was bare . The game you played was never fair. and once again I threw it all up in the air .
making poker face
find others doing it well;
emotions fail me
10.4.2015
Maybe it was for the best
That I lost the jackpot
That night
When we were foolish
young
Dreams in our eyes
New stack of cards
On the felt table
And I bet it all
I threw it in
For a chance
To love you
Once again
You know
I always carry an extra Ace
In my deck of cards
A King of Jacks
Baby baby baby
Do you see my hand?
Diamond shaped lies
Crimson colored heartfelt eyes
Raven hued secrets
A set of 5 fingered
Alibi’s
A Queen of Tricks
What
Is
Up my sleeve?
I’m done playing games
I’m throwing away my poker face
We’ve used the hand we’re dealt
The best way we knew how
Throwing a heartbeat on a dice
Just to lose it all
The house is full of Kings and Queens.
For each other thrive on whats unseen.
While each of them believe their aces.
It boils down to stories on their faces.
Playing each hand as though its won,
before the round starts and the flop is done.
Can't you feel the twitch we see.
Tells us all that we should flee.
Your subtle gasp while placing chips so rough.
It is a sign of another weak bluff.
Those who stay await the turn
to look for the card to make others spurn.
The deck has fewer of what you need.
At this point the smart will concede.
Those who remain understand the odds.
The river may cause a curse of their god.
The hand is over now all is seen.
Did they read right the tells that were noticed by the keen.
Their house is full of Kings and Queens.
Only to lose to all the Aces, how mean!
DAMN YOU RIVER RAT!!!
On the occasional Tuesday night,
with my mother at work
and my sisters and I
in our pajamas,
my father would invite over
his brothers
and his friends
from the lumberyard
to drink beer and play
five card stud.
I was allowed
to greet each player and
watch the opening hand.
Each man
would arrive with something:
a sixer of canned Budweiser,
a bag of potato chips,
a metal band-aid box
filled with nickels and dimes.
Benny,
the stout and jolly
lumberyard foreman
with his thick skinned paws
and a Popeye tattoo
on his forearm,
would bring chocolate bars-
the king-sized ones
from the candy aisle
at the supermarket-
for my sisters and me.
He was like a blue collar Santa.
Uncle Guy
brought his good luck charm-
a Canadian nickel.
Not knowing that
it was not uncommon,
I was intrigued by the beaver.
My uncle would place
the nickel on the table
next to his vodka on the rocks
and fresh deck of cigarettes
just before the first hand was dealt.
Uncle Buddy,
with his Magnum mustache
and light blue eyes,
would bring his laugh-
a hearty hoot of a laugh
that would be heard,
although somewhat muffled,
through my bedroom walls
long after I brushed my teeth
and was sent to bed.
I’d hear the snap and fizz
of beer cans being opened
and the jingling and jangling
of growing pots
as I lay in my bed,
wide awake with the caffeine
from Benny’s chocolate bars.