Best Winnings Poems
To myself to I, to God I asked
what nature of sample shall I give,
the tribute must be something, already possessed
and not a thing to be acquired or easily accessed,
what type of treasure, what placid pleasure,
what measure of scintillating success should be expressed,
many feelings, dealings, winnings and blessings I have
like the menificent merchant of an ageless & melancholy market,
however I am disinterested in the buying & selling of impressive items,
something of my core should be present, priceless, respirative,
multitudes give Deity thick thanks in pompous prayers
or grim graveling of worship,
others offer animal immolation or coin from shallow pocket,
as does everyone I experience the panic of pain,
that terrible teacher of no remorse whose curriculum
makes carion of cowards,
but as a student of Life and thus a pupil of pain
I realised that my mind can be a calm cistern,
my heart a coffer of adversity's copious rewards,
the determination is made,
my proudest possession, enlightenment derived from pain,
enchanting and admonishing like the howls of hungry beasts,
a gift of character, a jewel of dreams manifest,
God accepted and said,
" Someone, somewhere, somehow is suffering to better feats" -
J.A.B.
Categories:
winnings, devotion,
Form:
Ode
Tax Time
File by April 15th,
avoid penalty and interest.
Declare all income from:
gainful employment
investments
state refunds
poker winnings
bingo winnings
jury duty
or even if you sell your old jalopy
to your cousin.
But your losses are not fully deductible,
must be reduced or prorated,
spanning future years.
There are limits, you know -
and those limits - well,
tax credits apply to others,
in every case . . .
you've exceeded the limit.
So dig deep . . . and pay up.
Categories:
winnings, april,
Form:
Free verse
At the station Paton stares at me from the train bound for Johannesburg
He leaves a note to remember to mop up where the roof leaks
This is after the British take Achebe and I's gods away
before sitting back down on their buttocks
When I take their son in Taylor draws my black skin being thrashed by the wind
I feel the kid burying me before the ship comes
I resurrect, thanking Wendt for at least some power and glory
before stupid maggots come and eat up my winnings
Orwell hires me to feed his pigs when I'm broke
I want to kill them when they stand up on two legs and talk back to me
Smith and I meet at Catholic school and ditch Boys' Club together
His brother catches him and I hide across the street as he gets a beating
I run into Fitzsimmons who's looking for Les Darcy
I tell him, 'I'm not his girl, go ask Winnie where he went'
They make Ihimaera and I run errands at the family gathering
I tell myself we're either cousins or enemies: don't fall for him
That same night Huxley and I get high on soma
He passes out on the beach and I run back home to sleep it off
The stabbing wakes me up in time to tell Selby to go tahell
He gets up in my face and tells me plainly to be honest with myself
It's strange after that...just me and Bukowski waiting for a bus
He puts up with me and I fall in love with the pungent smell of him.
Categories:
winnings, books, history, language, literature,
Form:
Free verse
GEORGE BERNARD SHAW
George Bernard Shaw, born in 1856,
Wrote plays and novels,
But for me the most
Important was he wrote many a poem
A quote of his “Write your sad times
In Sand, write your good times in stone”.
My poem ‘From Humble Beginnings’
Just the title mind you, is exactly from
Where Mr Shaw heralded, Dublin
Ireland, his fame was renown, no
University background, yet Literature
For Bernard was just thrilling,
And his quotes, plays and poems,
Always fulfilling.
“A life spent making mistakes is not only
Honorable, but more useful than a
life spent doing nothing”.
His winnings
Were numerous among which,
The Nobel Prize, and even an Oscar.
His quote “Life isn’t about finding
Yourself, Life is about creating
Yourself”. And, as such to be convincing.
His interest in politics was avid, he was
A true Socialist and joined the Fabian
Society, he became popular and
Enjoyed doing theater critics.
Started writing his own plays,
In so many different themes, the class
System, religion and the inequalities
In life. The public responded to his natural
Humor, Shaw's quote “The longer I live,
The more convinced am I that this planet
Is used by other planets as a lunatic asylum”.
For, said this wise poet,
“Progress is impossible without change, and
Those who cannot change their minds cannot
Change anything” and furthermore,
"We don’t stop playing because we grow old,
We grow old because we stop playing”
This famous Literary man George Bernard Shaw,
Was 94 years of age,
When he died in 1950
He wrote famous novels, poems
And plays for the stage,
But I will leave you with one other quote
Of his “Happy is the man who can
Make a living by his hobby”.
Categories:
winnings, poets,
Form:
Free verse
Anyone who has lived through them as I have,
Knows the Forties were the most memorial of all
Of the decades of the Twentieth Century
And surely the most vivid in recall.
Personally, they were the greatest of my life.
I was married in the year of Forty-One.
Then in March of Nineteen-Forty Three,
We were blessed with the birth of a new son.
Two daughters followed him in their own time,
One born in Forty-Five, and one in Forty-Six.
But intruding on the joys of my own life,
Was the world which was in a terrible fix.
Millions of Jews and others were slaughtered,
Although at the time we were mostly unaware.
In December we entered World War II
To fight Hitler and Hirohito, an evil pair.
Our young men went to war, the rest of us
Pared down our lives to help to win the war.
The barest necessities were all we had,
And we were proud to be giving more and more.
The Forties saw the first atom bomb dropped
On Japan by our own beloved country.
I would have begged Harry not to drop it had I known
But of course no one saw reason to ask me.
Despite the war there were many new inventions,
And we slowly climbed out of the depression.
We constructed bomb shelters in our back yards.
The horrors of war had left a bad impression.
There were block buster movies in those years
And television was just in its beginnings.
Rebecca, How Green Was My Valley, Mrs. Miniver
And All The King's Men, had coveted Oscar winnings.
Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole were famous.
Peggy Lee and Dinah Shore were heard.
These singers were featured and unlike today,
When they sang you could hear every word.
This is a small taste of the Forties,
I hope that I have made you understand
That everything was bigger during this decade,
War, rugged times, and big bang and big band.
Written 3/2/15
Categories:
winnings, memory, , memorial,
Form:
Narrative
"The Forest, The Lot and The Carpetbagger"
In the middle
of it all, in
The Forest,
I was asked
by a soothsayer
to choose
a number
1, 2 or 3.
I said
in all sincerity,
“that’s a bad number, 3.
someone always feels
left out discarded; now
if you get down to it,
about playing cards,
well 1,
is rather obscure,
concealed,
not easily expressed,
or understood,
no fun, just 1,
waiting for the deal
to be delivered,
to be done,
you could wait forever,
as just number 1, where's
the fun in the dance
as the unknown, unseen
stoic 1."
So I chose 2,
me and my shadow
2, I’d bring the
other with me
like a pair of
socks, well matched
walking off the page
walking off
win-win
with the shining
light, the payload,
the winnings,
the lot, at end of day
like a carpetbagger,
when fortune
tempts fate
walking its
very very fine line,
Risk asks for the payoff
and in exchange,
for trust and faith,
the long night
and dreary day
over all are saved;
opportunity knocks,
the door opens
it is now
unlocked,
I walk through,
poetically speaking,
I manifest the lot.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
"An Event Destined to Happen in Your Lifetime"/White Feather Tarot
Categories:
winnings, journey, muse, mystery,
Form:
Narrative
Lying under a counter they say
One dollar is the cost to play
Two to make your winnings more
The next ticket is it for sure
Oops, being lucky is not today
Categories:
winnings, funny,
Form:
Limerick
Farmer Dan, was a gambling man, who loved to play at some cards;
So to beat the band, he tried his hand, at the other farm yards.
On one day, he struck pay day, at the home of good farmer Dow,
And walked away, with some hay, plus a seven foot tall beef cow.
Dan looked so small, beside his large haul, as they sauntered back home;
But above all, Dan was feeling tall, and called his new cow, Gnome.
Dan had the urge, to try and scourge, more farmers for some winnings,
And if he surged, he’d go splurge, with pockets that would be brimming.
His plan worked, as he clean and jerked, all kinds of swag from his friends;
Yet they were irked, and went berserk, wanting Dan to make amends.
So farmer Dow, wiped his wet brow, and sought one last game from Dan;
Though he kowtowed, he couldn’t wow, the farmers to join his plan.
Dow demanded, a game two handed, to settle up the score,
Plus he planned, to wager his land, for Gnome and quite a bit more.
Each was praying, because to stay in, they had to raise the stakes.
It goes without saying, they were playing, for more than just ‘High Steaks’.
Categories:
winnings, animal, funny, games,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
I remember him as if it
were yesterday, picking black
berries for his mom’s cobbler pie.
He was bare foot with a dirty
shirt and frayed blue jeans;
if you want to call them blue.
His hair dingy red, the color
of southern red clay.
He never saw me; I was sitting
in the water oak, over looking
the creek running between our
houses.
The creek was our playground
for fishing and swimming.
We strung a kudzu vine over a
limb, hanging straight over the
creek; for swinging into the
deepest part of the water.
Down in the shallows was
where his family bathed on
the warm days.
Today was not bath day, it was
food gathering day.
After placing all of the berries
into a big bowl, he would eat
a handful before taking them to
the house.
As a routine, his mother always
lathered him up with bacon grease
to kill any chiggers, she said it
smothered them, it was a wonder
it didn’t smother him.
I wonder if that was why he
always looked unkempt, plus he
had wild animals following him
quite a lot.
It seems as though it was just the
other day, he had a skunk run
him up a tree.
I don’t know who smelt better,
him or the skunk.
In school he would always sit in
the back next to the window.
Some of the other boys nick
named him Bacon; he didn’t mind,
it made him feel important.
Me, I gradually got use to the
way he smelled like a side of pork.
That’s how I always knew when
he picked berries for his mom.
It was as if the bacon grease
tattooed his pores.
She did make the best black
berry cobbler in town;
always taking first place in the
county fair.
This year, the cash prize would
be larger plus the recipe would
be published in the state journal
and eligible for contest winnings
of five thousand dollars.
I knew that they could use the
money, they were desperately
in need of a big wash tub.
If it wasn’t for all of his friends
at school, his mom would have
never won the state prize money
and I surely wouldn’t have married
him,
as I remember…
Copyright © 2008 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Categories:
winnings, funny, love
Form:
Narrative
(Dedication: For Ann)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Take things easy with mahjong game,
Watch with sure gaze discards that tell;
Thought strategy works the sly frame,
Let poise forge maze as moves work well.
Each card you stack can fit the groove,
Note how blocks spread in clusters here;
Align sure knack with steady moves,
Each move is read in mental spheres.
From East to West, the game goes round,
The dragon trail and winds that blow;
Cards that work fest on solid grounds,
Smooth numbers sail in sets that show.
Chinese word craft calligraphy,
Marbles that stray, bamboo needles;
Hurl thrill and blast as mindset frees,
The seasons stay power struggles.
Round the table, each player treks
Each counter move with cards at hand;
Spread the sparkle in winning deck,
Windfall now proves a lucky trend.
Four seasons swirl in circle trip,
The winds of change weave tidal range;
Feel blocks unfurl a winning grip,
Luck works things strange in web of change.
So here we go round the four winds,
The moments cast an active spin;
Moves lost and found from thoughts unseen,
Counter moves last to bring home grins.
Mahjong table chat can reveal lots,
So much at stake to zero in;
Share bits of fat as gossip slots,
Force choice in takes that hustle win.
And at the end, count our winnings,
Compile and see how each did fare;
Did crafty blend reap fine endings,
Or purse empty of small change take.
Let fancy style mahjong tiles here,
Mix and mingle acrylic blocks;
Just for a while buzz gambles dear,
Cash now sprinkles pleasant fond talk.
Leon Enriquez
27 June 2015
Singapore
Categories:
winnings, blessing,
Form:
Quatrain
We went to Las Vegas for the very first time,
My husband, father in law, and I all partners in crime.
Each of us brought $500 to spend.
We hoped it would last through the week's end.
I was itching to try my hand at slots,
While they hit the tables like a couple of hot shots.
My plan was to keep any winnings I won,
And if I lost, I would be done.
We had a grand old time for that week,
Hoping we would hit a lucky streak.
We went to Hoover Dam, casinos, and shows.
Sin City was an exciting place that never closed.
So far my luck on the slots was pretty good,
But nothing earth-shattering like I thought it would.
Not feeling well, one day I stayed behind in our suite,
While they went to a Holyfield fight, a real treat.
Later I decided to go downstairs to get a snack,
And saw a slot machine calling me, “Please come back.”
So I sat down at this double diamond slot to play,
When all hell broke loose, with money hitting the tray.
I had hit the lucky seven double diamonds.
With only two coins, it was auspicious timing.
My eyes were as big as saucers in shock.
My heart was beating loudly, as people gathered to gawk.
The ringing was deafening in my ears,
As I waited for the management to pay me amidst cheers.
My jackpot was $3200 after Uncle Sam’s portion.
I headed back to my room after the stupendous commotion.
I spread the hundred dollar bills all over the bed in anticipation
To see my family’s reaction upon return, and their exclamation.
When Dave and Frank walked into the room, they stopped in flabbergast.
The sight of the money on the bed almost gave them a heart attack.
It was as much fun seeing their shocked expressions,
As it was hitting the lucky sevens in succession.
“I thought you were sick,” my husband said in shock.
I replied, ”Well I had to get something to eat, and I played a slot.”
The rest of the trip I still won a few more bucks.
Even at the airport I won $200 with unexplainable luck.
Dave and Frank played hard, but were going home bust.
But I was going home a winner, which satisfied my wanderlust!
Categories:
winnings, adventure, fun, vacation,
Form:
Narrative
Now feel,
Reflect summer,
That mirror resonates,
With your winnings and cold mistakes:
Can change.
Categories:
winnings, autumn, change, character, earth,
Form:
Cinquain
Hail to the thieves
that retrieve
lost trees.
Hey! Where do you disappear?
Hail to the piercing taste of a pear.
Hey! Why do you gaze at me so?
I don't need reality unless it's mine.
Talk to me.
Talk to me.
Take your time and sigh.
See the world redesigned.
Then let it go.
Sell sunbeams in a crisis.
Talk to the stones that turn.
Touch the rhythm and burn with it.
Celebrate both victory and defeat.
See what's featured in the cosmic menu.
Among all the amenities I obtain you.
The art of grabbing without touching.
The art of dreaming without falling asleep.
The art of loathing without telling.
The art that picks the hip from the heaps
of all their winnings.
The art of elusive light.
The art of being close tonight
and disappearing tomorrow.
The art of 'have-a-nice-day'
with a finger on a trigger.
The art of getting miniscule
and then growing bigger.
The art that unites all nations -
the everlasting
misconception
of communication.
05/06/2016
(c) Maryna Tchianova 2016
Ukraine
Inspired by http://www.wikiart.org/en/rene-magritte/the-art-of-conversation-1950?utm_source=returned&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=referral
* * *
Sacred and profane love by Titian (1514)
Love divine
How it burns when it falls from the sky -
how it hurts when the water is done.
How it rains with the words half-denied,
When the world looks for fabulous suns.
How it aches when the feeling's away
from the roads that are fast and are clean.
How it roars when the lights are insane,
how they fatefully touch our skin.
How I pray for this love not to fade,
How I look for your eyes in the woods,
How we crave for emotional shade,
In each other we find our roots.
Profane love
When the touch dumbs us down -
when the shadows arise,
When in passion whe drown,
when there's evil disguised.
When your kiss, black as night,
slowly turns on my key,
when your arms, full of might,
burn my fragility,
When we're fruitful and hot,
when we're lost in our dreams,
When we're tied with love's knots,
So profane we might seem.
06.05.2016
Categories:
winnings, allusion, art, beauty, dream,
Form:
Free verse
In my game of life
I play sometimes against,
and sometimes with,
Time as Other player
Playing against
seems to have bad odds of feeling like a winner,
while playing with time
feels like we both win,
at least some Time,
especially if we simultaneously stretch
our love for gaming
together
more than apart.
In my Evolution Game,
playing with and against Time as Other,
my rules emerge natural laws of healthy
and unwealthy
economic trends
and social order
and political balance
witnessed by elder spirit voices,
iconic memories of past plays
with diastatic/static
diastolic/purgative
evolving rules of vocational recreation with co-passion play.
Nutrient rules flowing through my veins
and out through rivers of arteries of positive/negative trees
deep fertile cuts and folds,
articulating primal neural streams with suboptimizing substreams,
swelling mainframe-economy with synaptic political revolutions
dispelling cooperative win-sufficiency contentment,
more sustainable midway rest from playing against
one
or more Other.
Now, in Time's anthro-game of evolving life
s/he plays sometimes against anger and fear memories,
and sometimes with love and peace future investment
with winwin outcome intent,
co-arising regeneratively healthy Anthro-Egos as EarthTribe players,
also running coincidental WinWin, WinLose, and LoseLose
comedic and strategic and tragicn
naturally emergent health functions and dis-easing pathology
with transitionally revolutionary co-incarnate bilateral form
as indigenous anthrocentric PlayNice frequencies
of EarthTribe Time.
In our love of healthy environment-winning games
we play sometimes against win/win
inside/outside communication stretching regenesis,
and sometimes with win/lose Othering
unnatural unloving death-wishes
The reverse of
strategic nutrient-nurture optimization players,
whenever and wherever we can hunt and haunt them up,
make them up as iconic gods and goddesses,
as necessary to harvest win-winnowing wealth
together
better than apart.
In this funny little evolution game,
it is wrong because impossible
to harvest winnings we have not seeded,
as individual ego players
and as a potentially EarthTribe
of team-life is for love players
and not lose/lose hate sayers.
Categories:
winnings, environment, games, health, nature,
Form:
Political Verse
While enjoying a walk in the woods near a beautiful lake
A huge spider jumped from a tree and landed on my shoulder
Taking quick action I hurriedly jumped into the lake and the spider was gone
But then as I started walking back to the shore I felt something wiggle in my pocket
Well that had me a little worried too, so quickly I took off my pants as soon as I was back on the shore. Then I heard some giggles and as I looked around there were
some girls just laughing and pointing over at me. So I picked up my pants and
jumped back in the lake and then I saw what had caused all the fuss. There
was just a tiny little ole fish just looking up at me and it had something in its mouth.
It needed my help so I pulled out this obstruction and saw what it was. Well I
petted and spoke softly to the little fish and saw that we had a winning lottery ticket
now in my hands. I told the little fish all about it and just turned it loose after I
told it to meet me back here the next day. So I cashed in the ticket and went and
bought a new pick-up truck and drove back to the lake to give the little fish it's
part of the winnings. But, don't accuse me of trying to abuse or to cheat that fish.
I am being honest.... The fish never did show up to collect its part of the winnings
And that is a true fish story
Categories:
winnings, fantasy, funny, me, fish,
Form:
Free verse