Best Wagering Poems
Good day, Sun;
so nice to see you.
At my age, despite
what odds I give I
can't get anyone to bet,
all wagering off, as to
whether, the following
morning, I will be earth-side
or aloft?
Good morning, Sun,
you're so bright and
cheerful, let us start the
day with an earful: God
put us both where we
are, for Light Reason~
Yours to charm the sky,
the tales of a season,
mine to focus and sigh
as I write of your dim
and bright – it is a turning
world I live in, some turns
seeming without caring
reason –
It is here where we depart –
yours a physics, while mine
of feeling heart; yours predictable,
to within seconds – cycles long
into years – mine, a wash, of
surprising joys then senseless
tears – yours, a place so long
in the sky, while my span, a
brief hello, and goodbye –
Some say, you have a soul,
not merely a dawn and a
hush – good morning, my friend,
your moon does seem to blush –
Categories:
wagering, dark, inspirational, light, meaningful,
Form:
Free verse
In equine racing they always say,
You hope to win when you make your play;
Off course as you know,it's the horses that show,
They're the only ones to make their hay.
With no help from the divine my guess could be as good as thine,
For doesn't our quadruped take a million fools,
For a ride not individually, but at a time?
Never known to run quite true,
All handicapping techniques never seem to do.
Yet it always finds it's friends,
Poor battered punters,trying to make amends.
Wagering on them are millions spent,
To get you returns it was never meant.
This sport of Kings will carry on,
But as king of this sport.....You could never be DON!!!
--- Princefreakasso
(Artist and Poet)
Categories:
wagering, animals
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Dangers plague this shambolic world in which we live
where many seek vengeance and are not apt to forgive.
It's a never-ending cycle of accuse, battle, and defeat
at any cost, walking on a knifes edge with bloody feet.
Perpetual confrontation: nation vs. nation, combative.
Everyone is power hungry to become king of the hill,
stepping on each other as if we're bodies in a landfill.
Humanity teeters for balance before falling from a cliff.
Why doesn't anyone ask the right question..."What If?"
What if arbitrary wars ended without the need to kill?
What if no one felt the need for control and greed
and what if peace prevailed when it has been decreed?
Would the world then become a Gandhian escape,
or would wolves be disguised in a sheepskin serape?
Demented are those who enjoy watching others bleed.
Mankind does not realize the havoc it's been wreaking.
It's their terror and aggression we should be critiquing,
but I fear this selfish world will never be of one accord
until the day when humanity no longer raises a sword.
Disgraceful are immoral leaders who are self-seeking.
Death seeks a ransom, always demanding we pay more.
So, when it comes knocking, stand guard at your door
or risk falling from precipice height, the peril of a ledge.
Wagering on war is a dangerous bet no one should hedge,
for walking on a knife's edge is something we should abhor.
Categories:
wagering, conflict, war,
Form:
Rhyme
Welcome to the year 4712, the year of the horse.
This is the most important time for Atlantic City hotels, of course.
It is tradition for good luck to eat noodles on the first day.
Make sure we have plenty of them in inventory today.
Have those fireworks to frighten the evil spirits away.
Have loads of red envelopes with money at the noodle bar.
Our honored guests will have traveled very far.
Get the tables ready for baccarat, pai gow, and sic bo.
Our patrons will be wagering loads of money in the casino
Whether they come from Hong Kong, Beijing, or Taipei,
cater to all their wishes during their stay.
Categories:
wagering, holiday, new year,
Form:
Rhyme
I have forfeited every inch
Of your bitter blow
And you have reaped the profit.
You took my discretion for granted
And placed me inside a cage.
You withered,
Disdainfully,
In an open page.
The palate of your face
Eating at the sky
And delivering me to justice.
Haunting me and my forbidden womb.
Drenching the maggots
In silver and golden
As they nibble at a
Greasy toothed moron
From the grave.
And in temptation,
You'll haunt them too.
A wandering pilgrimage
Isn't far from you.
And with this thought,
Your on foot,
Fleeing to the very next castle
Of whore ridden death and degenerates.
And because of his avarice
You will never turn back.
And because the tips of her hair,
Drenched in brandy
And ever tickling at your spine,
You will never turn back.
At agate,
An open wound sits
Mingling with the dark and the lecherous.
Having cocktails with the waitress
Whose initials spell hepatitis
And whose breasts aren't far from
The waist you see so fit.
Gangrene has not swallowed
This slit up just yet
And it is far too simpleminded
Of you to forget how you pleaded
With her to let it heal.
Let it heal.
Let it stop.
Let it seal.
To free the ever so silent songbird
Who has been caged in your debt
For centuries,
Bargaining and wagering with
The undertaker
And licking at injustice with her toes,
Wanting nothing more than to bear
The child of a man who hates the sea
But is born from the salt of it's accomplices.
A man whose bitter death is but a tragedy
To shoe makers
But sleeps under a petticoat
For fear of losing his head.
The man who holds his key so tightly
With all probability and intention
Of letting it go.
Categories:
wagering, allegory, angst, death, me,
Form:
Free verse
During a sultry summer’s afternoon,
when anyone can melt away and swoon,
nothing can cool us off quite as nice
as a generous helping of Italian water ice.
Slaves of Roman emperors from ages ago,
would trek into the mountains to gather snow.
They brought it down to mix with fruit and honey.
Thus, we have ambrosia that came to be.
For most folks, it is a seasonal treat.
Anytime in the summer, it is cool and sweet.
With lots of different flavors galore,
once you try some, you will be back for more.
We are familiar with traditional lemon and cherry.
However, have you tried mango and black raspberry?
How about exotic Italian anisette?
Wagering you will like them all is a safe bet.
Categories:
wagering, food, seasons,
Form:
Rhyme
Upon the page forever bound, the wagering of life will be found,
Where those words are gathered in paper and ink and bring a cowboys life to the brink
Of wit and charm with a cowboys creed, what’s on his back is all he’ll need,
For those turns in life that unfold, like a horse that he couldn’t hold.
His wild eyes would test his fate, with quick sharp hooves his teeth bared with hate.
Or a more subtle gander into life so told where he could walk on land, not branded or sold.
Find a friend not easily made, standing alone when he has strayed
To a place where he shouldn’t be,
And with in his eyes all he’ll see
Of life and early death,
Beside a friend until his final breath.
The pages are bursting with emotion and wit, the knowledge of where he got most of it.
Feeling the breath of a horse rode down. Hearing the spurs as they strike the ground.
Smelling the leather and sweat of a hard days ride.
Knowing they have done more than just tried.
Horns that gore a pony that he was on, artistically maneuvered in words and drawn,
To make you feel the at painful fall,
The reality of a mad cows bawl
All etched into words and forever bound to a book of silence,
If not read now sound will fill the mind and souls with imaginations of prairies and knolls,
And mountains where cattle hide with no brand burnt upon their hide
You are drawn into a life where men were free, and shaped by the land like they ought to be.
Lives that were whittled and chiseled into long hard days,
The force of mother nature and the changing of ways
Bring alive the west, we now read and hear. The wisdom behind the handmade gear.
Cowboys North and South, bring knowledge and hence are a powerful part of evidence, that the Grit of Smokey, Flint and Sand where brought to life by a Lone Cowboys hand.
From cover to cover you are woven into the past and live with the cowboys the author has cast,
Turning each page so you could read on
Knowing the emotions and feelings along
With the horses and cowboys names.
Brought to life by one man,
Will James.
Categories:
wagering, animals, cowboy-western, history, inspirational,
Form:
Soft shadows,
slowly slide suspiciously,
sustaining shivers
shooting silently-
suggesting simultaneously,
surreal wind-blown,
wispy, wisteria wands
whispering wildly,
waltzing wonderfully-
while willfully
wagering, winged-wights wallow.
Slithering silhouettes
secretly stun-
surely, sculpturing spooky,
scary spirits-
showcasing swarthy,
spellbinding sprites.
Categories:
wagering, night, surreal, time,
Form:
Free verse
THE HUNDRED YEAR DAY
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
In three more minutes they’ll open the gate
I’ll wait in my car going over my slate
It’s been six long years and it’s not over yet
I’m wagering my future I need to win this bet
I’m clean today for now that’s all I can say
I’ll not let anything lead me astray, I pray
There’s a monkey clamped tightly on my back
A junkies lifelong companion ever on the attack
It’s hard, but I resist the urge to surrender
To the wildfires scorching a psyche so tender
An avalanche of past errors leap to the fore
But I’ll brush them aside as many times before
Today I’ll get high by not getting high
That’s easy to say but so tricky to comply
I don’t care what other people say, but I do
That may be the reason my hopes never grew
When I’m weakening I need to stop and think
Recurring memories drove me to the brink
Luckily I met a good woman who understood
That pulling together we’d both do good
I won’t disappoint her or myself, I’ll try
The baggage is heavy it’s no pie in the sky
Old negative urges I’ve learned to dismiss
Are guiding my steps to avoid the abyss
Each day that passes strengthens resolve
To stay on course and continue involved
In my own battle with the demons inside
To regain my dignity to restore my pride
I hold them at bay if for only one day
I ignore them that’s the strategy I play
Twenty four hours can be pleasure for some
Or a melange of worry when under the gun
Each twenty four hours challenge my fate
I need to stay vigilant, they’ve opened the gate
Categories:
wagering, addiction, courage, emotions, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme
I want to tell you of my blue broken heart
So listen close that you might hear
Of hammer driven pitons of regret
In their force propelled me down a precipice,
In wagering my light would disappear.
Sometimes I taste the acid thread of tears,
Unbidden drip a trail along the cheek
And chill the waiting carpet with their frost
And craven open-ended questions ask
With their glib and cold malicious streak.
I want to tell you of my blue broken heart,
So hearken now, 'lest you may fall the same,
Thus take a heed of all I have to tell
And wrap a wall of stone about yourself
Withstanding of the slings of love and shame.
Now everything that burns me to the ground,
Impure of deed it razed this sucker faint
And channels all my symptoms to a grave,
Where resplendent, buried deep in state,
It cracks and peels the monumental paint.
I want to tell you of my blue broken heart,
So take the time to touch on my decay
And though you may possess the ways and means
To tend to wounds and shore the seeping veins,
Handle me with care, is all I say.
Categories:
wagering, introspection, life, lost love,
Form:
NOT WHOM I ONCE WAS
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
I Put a Ring on Her Finger, She Put a Ring Thru My Nose
My Power Continuously Ebbs, Hers Constantly Grows
I Once Liked the Green Color, She Says I’m Better in Blue
I Once Kept a Rigid Schedule, She Orders What I’m to Do
I Once Had a Black Shepard, He Was Faithful and True
No Room for a Dog in the House, Only Her Cats Will Do
I Once Played Cards with My Friends, Every Friday Night
Says Gambling Is Sinful, Wagering Is the Devils Delight
I Once Enjoyed Hunting, Had Several Weapons at Home
Now in Storage, a Pleasure Permanently Postponed
I Once Enjoyed Fishing Bringing Home a Catch or Two
All Those Male Events Are Now Strictly Taboo
I Once Had a Sleek Roadster with Spoilers and a T-top
Too Old to Be a Teenager, Act like an Adult, Grow Up
I Liked Wide Leather Shoes, Referred to as a Brogue
Embarrassed to Be Seen with Me, I’m So out of Vogue
I Liked to Wear a Beard Usually Goat Tee or Van Dyke
Can’t Think of Anything I Do or Wear, That She Likes
Over These Last Twenty Years She Transformed Me
Into an Unrecognized Version of Who I Used to Be
My Persona Now Permanently Altered, Beyond Repair
Constantly Scolds Me, Raising Thoughts I’ll Not Share
She Frequently Lectures Me, I Feel Totally Harried
She Has the Gall to Say.“You’re Not the Man I Married”
Categories:
wagering, allegory, analogy, change, confusion,
Form:
Rhyme
Violent thunderstorms sweep along the Ohio valley
From west to east against the river’s flow
Frequently during early April, May, and June
Nothing better to do, I religiously record the tally.
You notice the elderly are inclined to the mundane,
Enjoy repetitious tasks the young find utterly banal?
Sometimes they laugh and question, ask me what’s
So compelling about the recurring springtime rain?
And why one would keep old diaries full of stats
Predicting the number of annual inches of rainfall?
How many floods expected over the next ten years?
Hey, a neighbor tabulates the number of feral cats
Roaming our neighborhood in search of meals.
An elderly lady knows when everyone comes and goes,
Who works where, and when someone is sick--
Even how this or that nasty surgical procedure feels.
There is something reassuring about the repetition
Of a random number of inconsequential facts
At one’s fingertips, irrelevant conversation starters,
Notoriety for wagering, or, making a proposition.
For some it is a feeling of worth, of self-importance
Having some information no one would dare dispute
Because it is hard data written down in little books,
A product of aging, retiring, life’s natural circumstance.
Categories:
wagering, age, angst, community, time,
Form:
Quatrain
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Categories:
wagering, 10th grade,
Form:
Other
Dreams, do we imagine!?
or imagined for us?~ not really ours
man’s daily/nightly flighty escapes –
perhaps mystically inspired? Projections of a
superior curtain-wizard: His/its contrived illusions,
erudite brothers propose, the mind
a carnival trickster -- a phenomenal liar: such illumination
just mental, painted flame, no spark of true spiritual fire,
myself least fond of, the notion before the thinker...
the drink making thirsty the drinker --
like the egg and the chicken, the shell or the cluck
prayer answered or declined
and not a smidgen of exciting, wagering blind-luck --
Categories:
wagering, fantasy, feelings, humanity, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
You make your own life difficult and hard
when it all depends on the turn of a card.
A point and immediate seven is not nice.
Money is squandered with a pair of dice.
Shame and regret you do not feel.
You continue to bet at the roulette wheel.
Become a partner in the loser’s dance
each time you take a frivolous chance.
Uncertainty and ambivalence is what one finds.
How does one journey without direction signs?
The outcomes at wagering leave you with chagrin.
You have traveled a distance on the road to ruin.
Categories:
wagering, confusion, people,
Form:
Rhyme