Long Pack of cards Poems
Long Pack of cards Poems. Below are the most popular long Pack of cards by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pack of cards poems by poem length and keyword.
Castaway :-
Long day…longer it gets…
with no hand at a distance,
grey skies, with glimpses of clouds
that traverse together, like a bound existence.
far off, in the sultry fields
a raw sight, of a damsel,
a women…or a helpless maiden
hardly could anyone tell.
dry eyes, with a wry smile,
and a piece of black drape,
it was all, that she wore..
to hide her visage, from people’s gape..
thin frame, and ghastly feet,
copper-like rough strands,
but face, with a rare angelic cut,
wearing paleness, she walked, in a trance..
barely there, but starkly felt,
from within a distance, of her feet
her riches…that she firmly held,
some rags…and a piece of paper…old but neat.
Wandering, in those, smothered lands…
She trailed on…over miles of sights...
a faith, in someone, and the words he spoke,
kept her going…through days and nights…
as the fiery sun, with the glistening moon,
And the melting snow of the glaciers,
Months came…and passed…like a blink
And our lady was seen…lesser and lesser...
Winter ushered, with its full vigor,
Painting those parched lands, with its charm,
Untainted and pure it looked, as a sacred hymn,
Sung by a preacher, like a soulful psalm.
One such misty morn, as it was to be…
Blades of grass…still fresh with dews,
Wrapped in the pall, of countless blossoms,
There she lay, cold and stiff, in the morning hues…
Aged enough, when the day was,
Folks came…with melancholy on minds,
Someone saw, a thing, subtly hidden…
A letter it was, one of her riches, of good ol‘times.
It smelled of nothing, but selfless love,
That she bore, in her bosom, for her man,
Who promised, taking her along, upon his return,
The fateful letter, said it all, in a leaf’s span…
Tears weren’t enough, to mourn her loss,
All who came, knew it too well,
She came with nothing, but left with a lot,
Her memoirs, too poignant, stayed like a witch’s spell.
Buried she was, in heart of the earth,
As a dead log, that rots in the backyard,
Harsh a message, her death did foster,
That, people truly ‘fall’, in love, like a pack of cards…
As Mother Nature, has always had it,
Another long day, came to an end,
The world went on swiftly, on all its fours,
Camouflaging itself, with a blissful ignorance...
31 "You looked, O king, and there before you stood a large statue—an enormous, dazzling statue, awesome in appearance. 32 The head of the statue was made of pure gold, its chest and arms of silver, its belly and thighs of bronze, 33 its legs of iron, its feet partly of iron and partly of baked clay. Dan 2:31-32 NIV
Daniel was the interpreter
of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream.
The King had forgotten it—
his troubled sleep so extreme.
God told Daniel what the king had dreamt;
even what his dream did mean.
Nebuchadnezzar was so delighted
that with Daniel he did convene.
Daniel told the king, “You dreamed of
a brilliant statue — Babylon’s the man’s head.
You are the king of this kingdom
that the Medes and Persians will soon shred.
For they are the chest and arms of silver;
the second kingdom yet to come.
Then there’s the belly and thighs—
the third kingdom of the foursome.
The belly made of brass
is much less superior to gold;
this kingdom’s called, Greece,
but even it will fold.”
“So what kingdom will follow
for that’s the very last?”
“It’s a kingdom of iron,” said Daniel;
Rome had to be the caste.
This kingdom of iron
forms the legs down to the feet;
the toes of iron, mixed with clay;
this kingdom, the four complete.
The brilliant statue then is struck
as if with superhuman hands,
with a rock of destruction,
dispensed at God’s commands.
This kingdom of iron
forms the legs down to the feet.
the toes of iron, mixed with clay;
this kingdom, the four complete.
The brilliant statue then is struck—
as if with superhuman hands,
with a rock of destruction,
dispensed at God’s commands.
There’ll be no more earthly kingdoms
beyond the fourth, for sure;
God has predicted it—
no more kingdoms will endure.
Although Napoleon has tried it
and Adolf Hitler too,
Europe will not long be united,
but no-one’s told the Parliament of EU.
God has set up all the kingdoms
and deposed them all as well.
So what hope has man to dictate—
his pack of cards all fell?
God told us there’d be one last kingdom,
but that’s on the earth made new.
So when someone tells you differently,
He’s not read Daniel 2.
Featured in my book No. 3, "Poetry To Touch the Heart & Soul"
Copyright Maureen LeFanue 2009-2011
I see three doors before me.
The one to the left is blue, a beautiful lupis blue
with ornate lacework in its center.
Parisian-esque, it looks likes an entrance to adventure
and inspires me with its sophistication.
I imagine inside the rooms beyond that door
exotic curios on shelves along the walls
or tables heaped with charming little treasures.
My muse’s curiosity is sparked!
The middle door I see is that of a welcoming house.
Beneath two large rectangles of decorative glass
hangs a straw wreath adorned with festive flowers.
A friendly-looking white lab sits in front of this door
and on each side of it on the old-fashioned porch
are two pots of pretty geraniums.
I imagine beyond this door friends and family
gathered around the kitchen table
finishing Mom’s delicious apple pie
and preparing to break open a pack of cards
or sit beside their fireplace, playing charades
or perhaps singing along to a guitar.
The part of me that longs for warmth of family
lingers at this door.
The last door I spy
much farther away and surrounded by trees
is a light green door blending in with nature,
unadorned and not as high as the first two doors.
Were it a bit smaller and round, it could almost be
the door to a hobbit’s cottage.
A bower of vines spreads around it
covering the brown bricks of the house,
and a short cobblestone pathway leads upward
to this simple but interesting door.
I know that if I open it and wander in,
solitude will surely greet me, a solitude so sweet
that when I shut the door behind me,
I’ll leave behind the stresses of my life.
I will have entered another world
where I can rest and meditate. . .
perchance to write.
I look back at the first door, imagining the thrill
of discovery. Its charming blue entices me.
Then I return my gaze to the second door
from which warmth and empathy exude.
I redirect my gaze to the third door. . .
Which do I want more?
New experiences? Intimacy? Peacefulness?
Creative inspiration could reside behind all three.
Which one do I choose?
Which one would YOU choose?
March 28, 2017
for the Doors Contest of Anthony Biaanco
Classic silent films
Redundant technicolour
Piano plays mood
Panther and snow leopard duelling with chess
Under a scintillating firmament
A dome of diamonds floating on infinity
Moonlight softly slicing the shadows
Illuminating their world of concentration
Alternating attrition
Pawn takes pawn
Bishop takes pawn
Rook takes pawn
Knight takes pawn
Who's winning?
The back rows don't care
The pawns always get slaughtered
Monochromatic menagerie
Colour falls victim to Darwin
Survival of the hueless
Polar bears, penguins, orcas
Denizens of the icy white
Magpie's musings
Cogitating a colourless cosmos
With polka dot dalmatians
And Rorschach fresian cows
And bar code zebras
Mezzotinted mother nature
Despite its wonderous beauty
Always has a few skunks
Jet and pearls for the rich
Coal and chalk for the poor
Obsidian and quartz for the wannabes
A nun and a priest in theological debate
Reconciling scripture with how the real world with real people really works
Playing dominos to divine answers to divine questions
Passing holy judgement by chance and cunning
What's the alternative?
A pool table of eight balls?
A heartless (and diamondless) pack of cards?
It doesn't matter to those who see truth as black and white
Food race! Tuxedoed athletes! Chequered flag drops!
Raisins and pearl onions! Caviar and rice! Faster!
Black pudding and chicken! Licorice and mash potato! Faster!
Black beans with cream! Oreos and mayonnaise! Finish line!
Hurray for the winners! Bread and blackberry jam prizes!
Everyone else starves
Brightling and darkling
Eden's white vies Hade's black
Madness lies between
Written 16th February 2017
Entry to the "best free verse" contest
Originally entered to "the colours black and white" contest
Remastered to reduce number of lines
Notes:
"Colour" is not a typo or a spelling mistake. It's how us Brits spell it.
"Divine" means "discover" as well as "about God"
Magpies are considered to be one of the most intelligent birds - https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magpie
Mezzotint is a grey scale printing technique https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mezzotint
Classic silent films
Redundant technicolour
Piano plays mood
Panther and snow leopard
Duelling with chess
Under a scintillating firmament
A dome of diamonds floating on infinity
Moonlight softly slicing the shadows
Illuminating their world of concentration
Alternating attrition
Pawn takes pawn
Bishop takes pawn
Rook takes pawn
Knight takes pawn
Who's winning?
The back rows don't care
The pawns always get slaughtered
Monochromatic menagerie
Colour falls victim to Darwin
Survival of the hueless
Polar bears, penguins, orcas
Denizens of the icy white
Magpie's musings
Cogitating a colourless cosmos
With polka dot dalmatians
And Rorschach fresian cows
And bar code zebras
Mezzotinted mother nature
Despite its wonderous beauty
Always has a few skunks
Jet and pearls for the rich
Coal and chalk for the poor
Obsidian and quartz for the wannabes
A nun and a priest
In theological debate
Reconciling scripture
With how the real world with real people really works
Playing dominos
To divine answers
To divine questions
Passing holy judgement
By chance and cunning
What's the alternative?
A pool table of eight balls?
A heartless (and diamondless) pack of cards?
It doesn't matter
To those who see
Truth as black and white
Food race!
Tuxedoed athletes!
Chequered flag drops!
Raisins and pearl onions
Caviar and rice
Faster!
Black pudding and chicken
Licorice and mash potato
Faster!
Black beans with cream
Oreos and mayonnaise
Finish line!
Hurray for the winners!
Bread and blackberry jam prizes!
Everyone else starves
Brightling and darkling
Eden's white vies Hade's black
Madness lies between
Written 16th February 2017
Entry to "the colours black and white" contest
Notes:
"Colour" is not a typo or a spelling mistake. It's how us Brits spell it.
"Divine" means "discover" as well as "about God"
Magpies are considered to be one of the most intelligent birds - https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magpie
Mezzotint is a grey scale printing technique https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mezzotint
The old dog got a bit long in the once powerful teeth
Crushed his fangs on carrion left by the rest of the pack
Pack of cards delivered by being
Pack of lies suspended in truth
It was time to gather wounds scars and loosening grip
Maybe a new trick here or there on his visit to the tomb
Tomb of words written in anger
Tomb of scripture seeking resolve
He came to settle under Buddha’s levitating canopy
Put a fig in his mouth and tasted life’s intricate journey
Journey of illusion dispersed onto time
Journey of rest conveyed by places of comfort
Just out of sight but in contemplation and mounting doubts
As he minded himself he gazed upon a rusty barrow’s wheel
Wheel of Karma forgotten at peril
Wheel of fortune bestowed by grace
How he wished to be complete and deigned by composure
Fallible imperfect merely normal and at peace nevertheless
Less longing pacified in weary soul
Less adjudication clouding tranquility
When he took of his loin cloth and stood naked and stark
Reflected aberrations and fear a vulture caressed his skin
Skin full of hardship impermanent and mortal
Skin tattooed with ink and smouldering ashes
Prey and predator became one as shadows grew longer
He kissed the scavenger and blessed his parched tongue
Tongue of voices competing for insight
Tongue of deceit croaking temptation
The corroded buggy turned into rickshaw and palanquin
Floated on the river and embraced a path of reprieve
Reprieve from agony depression and void
Reprieve from the suffering of all suffering
He never found that intangible metaphysical wisdom
Abandoned his search for mystical philosopher’s gold
Gold never needed for making honest amends
Gold buried with a pot of tar oozing compassion
21st January 2020
Who is praying for our sick mother?
Let's stop casting blame on the giant
cock that crows before the waking dawn.
Our mother is sick and needs our prayers,
Nigeria is falling like a pack of cards.
Don't lay down there and weep for nothing,
Don't shout in the grievous hospital yard.
Silence! Silence!! They told us before noon,
But the woman laying sick there is our mother!
Without her the rain would drench us more.
Gather the fowls in the field and pray hard,
I have done my own part in making my mouth
A talking drum that sound far and wide to be heard.
Don't put your words in your right hand but
Keep it peacefully on the left like a king,
So you don't throw it into mouth like a morsel.
Mother is dying and she needs our prayers,
Let those that have good legs come out to dance,
Those that have savored mouth should sing,
Let's roll up the mat of her suffering before morning
The jungle could serve as a home to the demons
That torment our most loved mother.
Those that knows how to scream
Savor your throat with a sweetened honey,
Seven thounsand joyful songs can restore her.
The mountains are waiting to see us,
The valleys have gathered up the sun to serve us in
The night as the vigil may take days to end.
If there is any joy in peace or freedom,
If there is any documented fire here,
Don't hunt and haunt for the sanity,
The boundary between sanity and insanity
Is too tiny and must be observed by all.
Mother is sick and feeble in point of death
And most of her children are busy merry here.
Who is praying for mother Nigeria among you?
The long timeline behind us can become a lifeline,
Sound the drum in the four corners of the world
That our mother is sick and we don't know how to cure her!
(C) John Chizoba Vincent
Voice Of Vincent 2016
It’s Simply Magic
It’s just a little bit of magic, to enlighten your world;
It’s just another illusion, to fool the boys and girls.
It’s just another magic hat trick, with a rabbit inside;
It’s just another cut the woman in half trick, where nobody dies.
Because it’s magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply another confidence trick.
Yeah, because it’s magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply another confidence trick.
So if you want a magician, to fool the kids,
Then just give him a call and he will come and use magic.
With a pack of cards, or China’s Great Wall,
He’ll show you the impossible.
Because it’s magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply another confidence trick.
Yeah, because it’s magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply another confidence trick.
I think you’ll like it, not a little but a lot.
He tries his best, to put on a good show.
His bag of magic tricks, hide the secrets he’s got hidden
And how he does it, nobody knows.
Because it’s magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply another confidence trick.
Because it’s magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply magic, that’s all it is,
It’s simply another confidence trick.
(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
At a Greyhound station in Macon, Georgia I gambled my soul with the Devil.
He strolled in after midnight and told me he was on the level
and asked if I was a gambling man and I said, "Well, that just depends,
I never flirt with another man's wife and never play poker with friends."
"I don't want to be your friend," he said, "just want your soul for damnation."
and from his mac he produced a pack of cards for examination.
"The games Blackjack," as cards fled from the pack and landed in my hand.
"Best of five? Then your staying alive, if I get three then your damned."
The first four games saw honours even with both getting two games each
then the Devil dealt the final hand and I lost the power of speech
as he turned over the first of his cards, a red lady, the Queen of Hearts
I matched him with the pilfering knave, the one who stole the tarts.
His second card he then revealed, the husband of the Queen
and a rasping cackle escaped from his throat as I turned a little green.
I flipped my second card to see the King of Spades smile back,
but my relief was only brief and the Devil slammed down the pack.
"Too bad," he oiled, "I pay 21's." My face distorted with pain.
"I'm not finished yet, just honour your bet and hit me once again."
I picked up the card he proffered and held it close to my face,
I sneaked a peak then slammed it down to reveal a club, the Ace!
My soul was safe, the Devil roared and stormed out with a boom
and all that remained was the faintest whiff of sulphur in the room.
Hattie L. Rogers
1844 – 1917
The playing cards of life are a stacked deck.
As soon as you begin to breathe
You begin to die and disintegrate.
All of the winners in life
Eventually end up the losers.
You enter this Big House with nothing.
Nothing but a cracked soul, a cursed heart
And that stacked deck of crooked playing cards.
Your destiny, my friends, lies in the dust.
So I figured early on, like King Solomon,
That there is no use; it is all futile and hopeless at best.
When I came to this sad realization
About life on this staggering planet,
I decided the only worthwhile meaning in living
Is in finding true happiness,
Even in the midst of hopeless despair.
Even in the midst of this mocking gaping graveyard
That lusts for flesh and blood
Like Odysseus’ giant with the one eye
Like a carnivorous Scylla, hiding high up in its dark perch,
Up there in the insidious shadows,
Awaiting another human meal at noontide.
So, what happiness did I find in my 73 years?
Years that seemed to fly by like a hummingbird in April.
I found ineffable joy
In the phenomenal nativity of my twin boys.
Found indescribable ecstasy
In the tender embrace of my loving husband,
Found incomparable elation
In the survival of my children and grandchildren.
Living descendants, you are always welcome to loiter at my grave.
Bring a pack of cards though.
I am always up for a new ante.