Boredom shapes the gambler’s curse—
a chafing itch burrows the skin,
and promises of bounties full
draws loss and piteous hunger in.
It wagers not on sense but need,
all wisdom choked at galloping speed-
that trades frail patience in a pulse,
mistaking want for feckless greed.
Tidal leaps the wave, a beast enraged
the shifting boards ,a sweep of losses tilt-
that stilts no longer shudderproof engaged
foundations fall and nothing left but guilt.
Trusting souls
gamble with hearts
Even odds ~
they’re riven apart
Love is a gambler’s game
Either way it goes,
You’ll never be the same
I gambled half my pot
And sent out my greatest ship
But unlike what I thought,
Cards of hearts were never flipped
Soon I’m down to metal
But I'll win it just you wait!
I'll get a fortune settle
Maybe she’s just late…
I gambled with nothing left
But gave up my addiction
I found my heart in debt
Afar from my prediction
What a hunch!
‘Love can double money’
Now I’ve loved too much…?
Now isn’t that just funny!
A GAMBLERS DIARY
Lady luck gave me a smile
Although it took just a little while
A gamblers life is always hard
I play the horses and I play the cards
Always have those broken dreams
I lose more than I win it seems
Say about me what you will
It’s my life and it pays the bills
On and on it never ends
I wake up and do it again
The queen of hearts is always gold
If it’s the jack of diamonds you better fold
And from the tables to the tracks
Hoping I’ll win enough to come back
Bet on one to win the other to show
I might get rich you never know
So there it is it’s just my way
Live to gamble another day
Marty West
Gamblers – Lune for contest
lucky charms
scattered under chair
without milk
//visual #7//
8/6/2015
The gamblers and the mourners
Explore the vagaries of fate,
The expediency of life
Dangling in the capitol rotunda
Like a hanged man
His hair standing on end,
His boots in the air.
Write, sing, boo,
Do what you will
Never mind the outcome.
Words are cheap, they said,
But they knew better.
The price was dust--
Gold dust, that is--
By the ounce. Enough.
Enough.
Swinging from that bough,
Rope rubbing the bark raw:
It was a tree in that rotunda,
Where they hung them high.
Crows roost there at night.
Monkeys swing by day.
The crows fly away.
The monkeys take flight.
Women come and go,
Taking the sight.
Evening is still
Outside where the grass grows.
Obsidian crutches punch the ground.
Eagles fly where they please.
They do not fly near the tree.
Effervescent truly,
Shards unruly,
Dying away like rumblings,
Trains at the station
Puff and wait, puff and wait.
They pull like many horses.
Over in Scotland,
Inverness is halted.
The city is slow,
The soul of the yard.
Fruit ripens all golden
Everything rotten,
Lies on the ground.
Shuffle the deck and draw water
Encamped on the trail.
A Gambler’s Lament
Lead me out from the madness there in my mind
Into the wind of a coming November,
Come light now shine your brightest glow
And tempt my aging bones;
When such a thing as the noise of night
Beckons in silence to me
I listen to each imagined word
For dread I alone to feel no more
The muscles that toil beneath my skin,
But I long to touch those rolling dice
And to hear the slot machines chime;
Though bleak in chill this dark possess me
The warmth inside the door
Lets me feel no gambler’s lament
I know not where a morning light shines
Far beyond this entrance hung,
Yet inside here the smoke filled air
Is as sweet as the distant sun;
And now I listen to far off sounds
Playing forever in my mind
That shields me from a gambler’s lament
For Sid
By M.Norton
[email protected]
To these meetings, many more people will go,
as long as the gambling industry continues to grow.
Folks come from the track, the lottery, and the casino.
Outside help is what these gullible victims seek.
They meet at designated locations once a week.
Because this was a vice they could not control,
their compulsive habits have taken a toll.
They only know each other by their first name.
All of them have individual stories of shame.
Sharing their experiences will help the process.
Hopefully, they will save each other from distress.
They will not only help themselves, but their families,
as they put their lives back together from this disease.
Conform not my reply, say lest
it is the quiet's way, infest
and all that seek chance, ply invest
and all that labor ~ try in wrest!
Where mockery lays to rest
and years gone by are best . .
I lay my quandary's test
. . . God's laundry of duress!
Can fool the purse of paradise,
the gamblers take their lives
and counterfeit the makings of the sky
God's bless!
I ask the reasons why, confess
conditions would imply, at best
conform not my reply, say lest
It is the quiet's way infests!
The drummer drums his eye, impress
the sinner lives a lie, regress
and fortune hunters die wealth's fest . . .
where gain not be abide . . . peace's nest!
Gamblers All
by Rick Rucker
Some gamble big, others small,
I can assure you, we're gamblers all.
Some bet it all on the roll of dice,
Others asking out a Woman, nice.
Bullfighters live on odds real slim,
That they stab the Bull, 'fore it stabs him!
Some drivers bet that a light, turning red,
Still means that it's clear ahead.
There is a growing faction,
That believes that Humans just love "action."
That it provides a narcotic thrill,
Strong as any drink, or pill!
So, when buying a chance to win a Rolls Royce,
It's in your genes, you have no choice!
won it all and lost
gave away the best at cost
boxed the rest in pine
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