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
don’t dwell on the horrible deck of cards that you were
dealt; get new~ones
12/22/2021
Alexis Y.
I’m sheltering-in-place all day
And need more things to do
For there are many hours
Once my morning walk is through.
I’m reading books and magazines
And, too, The New York Times
And obviously, I still get
To write my daily rhymes.
There’s music on and thankfully,
Some good shows on TV
And working on my quilting is
Enjoyable to me.
But suddenly I had a thought –
I’d play some Solitaire!
I knew I had a deck of cards;
The question, though, was – where?
I could play on a screen, of course,
Yet I’d prefer to deal
With cards that I could hold, like books,
Which tactilely appeal.
I searched all over; then I found,
The last place I did check,
Wrapped tightly still in cellophane,
A brand-new untouched deck.
It bore an airline logo –
Once a gratis flying perk –
And after years of waiting,
I will put those cards to work.
With all this time to fill up,
Drawers and closets may reveal
So many random things our stuff
Has managed to conceal.
The king doesn't appreciate
castle,
the lady doesn't adore it
of court,
the jack is not brave
in war,
Joke doesn't have any
grace ...!
The numbers are only valid
when they are playing,
and the player only wins
when his luck
in the game does not launch ...!
I ask myself
how long will this last.
At best we are nothing more than frothing
mouths on Horses.
starving dogs on balconies puking there last meal
over looking streets where people stand with there cameras.
all they gave me was a deck of cards .....
its all I had to cut off the leaches mating on my throat as they
picked and debated what part of my flesh was at its most flavorful.
wet towels are like old whores...
they both blend into and unmade bed waiting til they are dry and used
for another day.
Frank Penicaro (c)copyright 2010
You don’t deal with the hand that you were dealt, its all in how you Play with the
hand you were dealt.
Optimal words “Deal” and “Play”.
If you deal with it, you may never win, never overcome, never achieve higher
levels.
But if you play, you will lose some, you will win some, therefore you become a
Player of life and not live a life whereby you are Played.
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