The Ace Trumps a King
You have no cards left to play
No peace prize for you
Just one red card
That's all I ask
To give me hope
My luck will change
They've all been black
For so long
The odds have to change
But flip a card
Its still black
The math isn't mathing
It can't be black again
It has to change soon
Surely the next one
Heart or diamond
It makes no difference
But the long odds win again
Another black card
The dealer shrugs
And asks my bet
Am I counting wrong?
Lets try again
This can't keep going
I try again
But again its black
I'm at my wits end
The spades keep digging me deeper
The clubs beat me mercilessly
They can't continue
I look to the dealer
As if to ask what I have to do
But then comes up
Another black card
But now a change
A new dealer steps in
Could this be my chance?
I cautiously place my bet
Make it small
A million times bitten
Twice shy
She turns the card
I hold my breath
It sits there in front of me
Like the sword plucked from the stone
But this made no one king
Instead it made me think
My luck has finally changed
Because clearly this new dealer
Had my Heart all along...
"I'm the Carnival's
Cartomancer,
Zoltar the mystic,
foreseeing wise."
"Who immobile waits...
inside this
narrow case--
top four-sided glass
and bottom
Pine-crafted box.
"It's wishing coin's
'ka-ching',
that magically
revives me."
"As true believers
witness--once
my turbaned gaze
mentally reads
what's seeping out
their inquiring eyes."
"Fact is--these
animated hands,
randomly select
from the magnetic deck--
one, out of many, fortune
riddled cards--inked of
buoyant, superb vibes."
"Though blissful, playful,
mind you--all of 'em--
merciful white lies."
"Behold, each
future's scripted
and then sold;"
"To luck--searching,
wishing souls--
on fortune--tellin',
Robot--sellin' cards."
"Whose promised prizes
are a Carney vendor's
paradise."
The deck of cards seemed alive in my hands.
I loved the whisper of shuffling, and
the way kings and queens stared back,
their faces older than anything I knew.
I built castles from fanned-out suits,
believing they could hold real wishes.
Every card I turned felt like a doorway~
a little spell I was certain I had cast.
the accompanying memoir vignette can be read at: poetrysoup.com/short_stories/casino_night_13716
Grammy’s dining room, a charming little casino,
the overhead light turning ordinary air to gambling gold.
Cards fanned out across the oilcloth,
their soft edges warmed by her steady hands.
Dried beans clattered in chipped bowls,
riches measured in the music of pretend.
Grammy’s laughter rose first,
Aunt Maudie’s chasing after,
two sparks lighting the whole room~
and I sat between them,
certain magic had pulled up a chair.
the accompanying memoir vignette can be read at: poetrysoup.com/short_stories/casino_night_13716
Ding dong the witch is dead
And her intersectional house of cards
Built on a shaky swamp of lies
Is now tumbling, blown away
And burned to the ground.
Who could not see this coming
10 years ago, five years ago, one year ago,
The inevitable backlash to tyranny?
The truth is it was always a toss up,
And it took a political groundswell
To open the doors to disinfection
By the cleansing power of light and air
Good old reason and common sense.
Gone are the days when DEI
Was forced down our throats
On our knees, hands tied behind our backs.
The witch with gun to our head may be gone
But her policies and lingering stench
Still fill the halls of power,
And like all things evil,
She can always rise from the dead.
Ding dong the witch is dead
So today we celebrate, dance and sing
And stomp the ground above her grave.
(2/21/26)
Deal the cards of fate.
Game to play the hand I’m handed.
I’m ready come what may.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2026
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a paper square holds
more than just ink on its face~
a bridge built of thought,
kindness sent, a gentle hand
reaching out across the miles
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The mailbox exhales December~
a paper breath
of pine and cinnamon.
Each envelope,
a door left ajar:
inside, the hush of
inked sincerity,
fingers tracing the
embossed edges of
someone’s I thought of you.
No pixels, no ping~
just the slow
theology
of glue and stamp,
the quiet arithmetic
of distance measured
in cardstock.
I lay them on the table
like relics:
Here is proof~
we still reach
without
touching.
Saturday night with the boys.
Winding down before our game of poker.
Poker gods, be on my side!
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2025
We always thought everything was above board
when we played cards, this even though
Gunther would bring his lucky horse
and clean up more than his fair share.
They were accused of cheating a time or two
but nothing was ever proven so they went free.
We found out later that they had quite the scheme
and Snow White was kept well rewarded
with an array of fresh carrots and juicy apples.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Sitting at the blackjack table
Blowing the best years of his life
One card at a time
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2025
Quick wave of a wand
our future laid out and fate sealed
~ it was in the cards
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
This problem in humans always seems to vary
Like a game of chess the movements are scary
Calla lilies given to a queen of hearts to mend
Bishops followed by knights pictures the men
Players like to steal hearts with a crooked smile
For a queen to know hes a joker may take a while
Unless it's obvious he has no money in the bank
Skeleton keys with no home he takes back rank
Relationships like board games are complicated
Almost every person we know have tried to play it
Ones who play and win "I Do" is what they say
With a pilot fountain pen signing their life away
Thinking is a thing of the past
they see no profit in that
looking on is easier for them
and they'll follow the herd at the drop of a hat
committees are but cash cows for the incompetent
with nothing accomplished at the end of the day
by back-slapping glad-handing
or under the table their cards they play
talking is of days gone by
they view no profit there
watching is the thing to do
and they'll gaze on anywhere
I thought they didn't have the courage
of their convictions big or small
but I was wrong as now I've found
they have none at all
meanwhile
we're out here in the human jungle
bumbling about stumbling around
going in circles jumping up falling down
and life is good or so I'm told
but I don't buy what I'm sold
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.