Dice the ice and break the chain,
Shatter the silence and unmask the pain.
Frozen systems guard the throne,
But truth is fire, it melts the ice that turn stone.
Dice the ice of greed and lies,
Cut through the veil that blinds our eyes.
The people’s voice, a storm untamed,
Shall melt the frost of those unnamed.
Dice the ice of fear and doubt,
Tear the old order inside out.
No tyrant’s rule can last for long,
When masses rise, their will is strong.
Dice the ice for to justice flow,
From frozen rivers as new seeds grow.
The dawn is near, the night shall cease,
A nation freed shall find her peace.
Playing With Dice
It never gets old,
Does it Almighty?
Throwin' 'em down,
Lettin' them fall.
Watchin' the pismires below
Try to make sense of it all?
Ruby Tuesday caught him on the rebound
They met at a Rolling Stones Concert
He was glad she came into his life, he conceded
She was nice to have around
To fill the void his heart needed
Before he met her, he was in bars drinking whiskey and gin
Where honkey tonk women danced, gave him a thrill
He was drowning his sorrows from heartache within
Angie had left him, and thoughts of her haunted him still
But wild horses couldn't bring her back to him
"I thought I had her under my thumb," he lamented
His life spiraled out of control, paint it black
Her memory left him tormented
Sometimes life can be a game of tumblin dice
Rolling for love that sometimes will haunt
Heartaches will come, love has its price
But you can't always get what you want
Ballad for Ruby and the Dice"
Angie, she whispered through cigarette haze,
The ghost of a name from my wilder days.
Under my thumb, I thought hearts would stay,
But wild winds never learn how to obey.
Paint it black, I told the sky that night,
When Ruby Tuesday danced out of sight.
She wore her sorrow like lipstick red,
And left my dreams tangled in the bed.
You can't always get what you want, they said,
So I drank to the dice and rolled love instead.
Tumblin’ dice down an old jukebox floor,
Each roll a prayer, or a closing door.
Wild horses couldn’t drag me back
To the innocence lost on that lonesome track.
Where honky tonk women sway and spin,
And hearts are traded like whiskey and sin.
Now I hum their names in the barroom light,
Angie, Ruby, and every midnight.
Chasing echoes in the songs they sung—
Still under my thumb, but forever young.
Let me know if you'd like it turned into a song or set to a blues rhythm!
Physicists may say,
'Random is not truly random,
it only appears to be,'
but another theory goes,
(according to me)
'Not so when playing games of chance,'
(and I have done the sums)
for this experiment logic states,
'The odds in favour are 5 to 1.'
As I spy with my little eye,
seeing spots and counting dots
on a regular die,
(these don't go to 11)
the 2 opposing sides,
of which there are 6, total 7.
So throw the bones or toss the dice,
whichever way you slice 'em,
when you're done having fun,
in all, the pips on a single die number 21.
And the line at the bottom...
roll 'em if you got 'em!
My dice answers all questions; just take a roll.
Absolutely right; do not doubt yourself
You are looking under the wrong rock
Your heart is in the right place; keep going
Run hard and fast, do not look back.
Is that really your question?
I chuckle a bit when someone gets that one.
You have the answers; this die cannot help you.
People keep running up to my table begging me for help.
I hand them the die, and smile.
He who has failed to do his due,
Man’s been a sour fruit of God’s whim,
One cannot but come to this view:
Gone acrid has His grandest dream—
A nightmare and greatest blunder
Which, He can’t but regret and rue,
I see Him now in deep ponder,
Hope, a bright flash flares from blue.
Mayhap, God played a game of dice
With Destiny, a sure spoiled sport,
And now, poor Earth pays a steep price,
As man by far has fallen short…
Maybe, apes would have better done,
Aft all, poor Darwin was human!
_________________________________
Sonnet | 15.01.2005 | men, God
"How are you, my friend ?"
I am not nice
I am full of vice
and sometimes, yes, I do entice
I don't like pasta, I take rice
and if you invade my temple
I'll trample you like mice
or squash you between the nails
like a loathsome lice
so before you ask me again
here's my advice
oh no, not twice better think thrice.
did it suffice ?
or shall I say more...
in this life, how I am
how I remain
where we always pay the price
no matter how much we try to spice
being born IS the sacrifice
and I ask you, if God does not,
then who is throwing the dice?
hey, I may be a little bitter
but my heart is not ice
there is nobody
who is not a little bryce
and trapped like a hungry wolf
in their own device.
(10.28.2023)
the screen door closes with a rattle
like a man trying to throw Yahtzee
despite the odds
shortly after, the familiar footfall of my father
calling ‘Baba boy, baba boy’ to me on the porch
I life my mug in reply, filled with hot coffee,
he fills the watering can with cold water
a low breeze rustles the fronds of a palm tree
father pours water on transplanted roots. it grows here
despite the odds
You can’t get it from table of dice:
Your planned riches and Earth’s paradise
When you win some heart you simply slice:
The no-more-sure of eating served rice,
On folk’s dining tables eyes of mice:
To “Friend, come and join us” “Oh! That’s nice.”
So, do release the pressure on dice,
Your keen interest in throws minimize,
Or one day you win and someone dies,
Or fail a hoped luncheon of fried rice,
Family starving plus kitchen mice…
Paradise not from dice thrown and won twice,
Peace of mind not from one thrown and won thrice;
Bad News a dice thrown and one paid sad price.
Metals at rest as tend to rust,
Love that latches on looks like lust,
As diamonds get made from grey dust,
Ye, Destiny, get deemed unjust.
Yet, whatso lies idle would rust,
Love lost of freedom looks like lust,
Not just diamonds, world’s made from dust,
We tend to forget fiery test!
It might seem so, where’s unjust fate?
Seeds sprout, aloud to say it all,
Man reaps no more than sweat may let,
Fruits, not before they ripen, fall.
He starved of will and manful means,
In grey envy tends to see greens.
_________________________________________
Sonnets | 04.02.2007, revised May 2023|
Started drinking fruit flavoured water now
Not the tastiest but I'll keep trying, I vow
In the winter months I always seem to gain
Inactivity is the culprit, exercising's a pain
When I walk, it's much more like a waddle
Sure don't resemble a Givenchy model
Gonna keep on trying to recapture my youth
Downed another swig of gin and vermouth
Now everything appears to be quite copacetic
Gin works wonders as an anesthetic
So getting back to the fruit flavoured water
A lot more concerned than this guy oughta
I'm almost eighty-eight so why should I care
Soon I'll be trapped in my big easy chair
Wifey will feed me some ground up mush
Dentures down the toilet gets flushed
But there's a silver lining waiting for me
If I could only get rid of my gimpy old knee
Bottom line is this, sure had a great life
Came up a big winner by a roll of the dice
CAMPED
I am from a corn-tree
where people are divided into three
yet, ethnicity is seen as salvation.
he alone will get us away from molestation
The youth are dying every minute
for their loyalty in exchange for peanuts.
no one is here to RISE TO COMPATRIOT.
yet they make us think they are patriots
We deviate from norms
Just to face more harms
From the so-called leaders
Who are cheaters
You and I are in bondage
Since our voices have been held, hostage
In our fathers land
No one dares demand or stand,
against those who feed us one congo of rice
Since our emotions have been played like a dice
Alas! One day I hope we have a story to tell
To that unborn seed of how we fell.
©Fawass Olalekan Adelabu
He rolled the dice just for fun
But then he got on a run
Couldn't pick up what he'd won
Because it was just for fun
But still tried to snatch and run
In existence, select the path to follow.
This is the most pivotal choice of your life.
Will merely delay or endure things to rife.
Roll the dice and check if you hit or are hollow.
Every day is grand, life allows a raw leaf.
You'll gaze at how other wanders to our pile.
Over time, we agonize over hope for a smile.
Why worry about fate, life books, joy or grief?
Fitfully, I need to shout a present tale a day.
If this occurs, on our page, bestow a prize.
How could this arise with no tears or sights?
Therefore, if it's deliberate or not, wish it may.
Could it be evil luck? I care about savory?
I'm still bearing a lot and becoming older.
Each day's tale is over success or failure.
In eager days or bane, we may pray for glory.
I learned late that hope conveys might.
To live hastily or slowly or meet strife.
My tale ends fearfully of hailing the rife.
Oh God, I am daunted; our life is a plight.
Written: November 15, 2022
The Crap Shoot #2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John lawless
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