Long Place your bets Poems
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Giddy laughter the monitor is going
To sleep heart of Christian pagan
Death-bed fire burning out
The window light Rome crumbling
Ashes dust another country attention
No exceptions every student must log
In the universe is on all sides in a straight
Line birth life death
Fornicators fenced in seas
In Russian winter ice quiet
Report on the meanings of
Stories deadlines madness
Is confident and loves its moth
-er who is dancing violently in
The light burning eyes staring
At flashing screens selling plastic
Chips place your bets double blind
-s folded the notes sit in a hundred
Years of smog melting grapes under
Trees preaching law meteors dancing
Fires reaching hands in caves spread
-ing blood words wince still
-ness
Place your bets, you’re just in time
for the game, the fix is in.
What a thrill. Is it a crime to cash in?
The winners do, and that could be you.
You’ll be a witness, as wise guys smoothly step in
- it’s basic greed - and never a sin, as long as they win.
Mr slick ricky, you’ve got to be bold to win gold -
winners never just fold - betting never gets old.
The winners will add your few spare bucks to their pot -
let’s admit, all that you’ve got - isn’t a lot - it won’t fuel a yacht.
Place your bets, you’re in the front row all the time,
don’t be lame, be part of the game, the greasy bigtime.
.
.
NOTE: I LOVE NFL football, but now every commercial is for some sports book like “Draft Kings.” How can the NFL, increasingly in league with gambling books, not end up mobbed-up and fixed?
It’s ruining NFL football - the illusion that it’s a real sporting competition. I’ll tell you, Once they start calling the NFL “entertainment” and not sports - it’s over - the game I once loved will be just like pro wrestling.
First time I saw her I didn't know
If I'd seen an angel or if, I'd seen a ghost
Just could not believe that she was real
I'd never felt the way she made me feel
.
And her eyes looked at me
In a way I'd never seen
That said "boy it's a gamble, but you can place your bets on me."
And no matter where we go
Or no matter where we've been
When I look into your eyes
I'd bet on you again
.
And we've been down some hard roads
And felt all alone
I've put her thru hell
But you'd never know
And I've pushed her away
When God knows I've needed her most
.
And I don't deserve her
Sure as hell didn't earn her
Now we're growing old
And I just can't believe
That gamble I took so long ago
Sure paid off for me!
.
And her eyes looked at me
In a way I'd never seen
That said "boy it's a gamble, but you can place your bets on me."
And no matter where we go
Or no matter where we've been
When I look into your eyes
I'd bet on you again
.
Sometimes late at night when the darkness sets in
All I can sense is the fear in my head
I reach out to her she's still there
Where she's always been
My angel my woman my lover . . .
My best friend
.
And her eyes looked at me
In a way I'd never seen
That said "boy it's a gamble, but you can place your bets on me."
And no matter where we go
Or no matter where we've been
When I look into your eyes
I'd bet on you again
My angel my woman my lover . . .
My best friend
Love is a dangerous game
kinda like Russian roulette
the balls in your court
place your bets
put it all on black
nothing is promised
no one is honest
completely
everyone hurts
sometimes the ones
we love the most
hurt us repeatedly
that's truthfully speaking
If you love it go get it
if it's broke go fix it
pride and ego
create spite & bitterness
don't make decisions
when ya emotions are high
true love doesn't last unless
you give it a try
ups & downs
that's apart of the game
like a two dollar bill
some things never change
change ya outlook on life
and that man might
change ya name
and make you his wife
it's a roll of the dice
it all depends
on the come out
trust your instincts
over analyzing causes doubts
Welcome to America, the land of reality TV
We have pixie dust and unicorns and the dreaded killer bees
The epic climax of 2020 has now reached its end
But here comes 2021, hold my beer dear friend
The new year will start with a mighty midweek hump
Stay tuned for the great ejection of Donald J. Trump
Will this man concede and leave the White House in one piece?
Will he have a temper tantrum or try to hide with his magic fleece?
We’re in the lull before the storm, it’s time to reload and take a break
Did Joe Biden actually win or will the Donald just call it fake?
Will he return in four more years or realize his time here is done?
Will he hold up in his ivory towers or just pack his bags and run?
This country is in a mess, so place your bets and roll your dice
We’ve had four years of snake eyes and many thinking we’re not that nice
Our land has many hitch hikers and our skies are full of thumbs.
They are not all criminals and losers and not all worthless bums
Show a little finesse, place a bet.
You’re just in time for the game, get some skin, the fix is in.
What’s more American than cashing in?
The real winners do, and now that could be you.
With suckers out there waiting, scamming is as easy as creating
an NFT, bitcoin, an online bet or a romance baiting.
You’ll be a witness, as the wise guys step in, for the NFL it’s a win-win
You get the excitement you need and the real playas get the proceeds.
Come on, Mr slick ricky, you know you’ve got to be bold to win gold
winners double-down, they never fold—the thrill never gets old.
The winners will add your measly bucks to their pot.
Let's admit, all you’ve got, isn’t a lot - it wouldn’t, say, fuel a yacht.
So, step up, place your bets, you’re in the digital front row all the time,
don’t be lame, be part of the game, it’s greasy, sleazy, organized crime.
.
.
A song for this:
Vicious Games by Yello
The Game of Love (feat. Michelle Branch) [Main/Radio Mix] by Santana
.
.
I LOVE NFL football, but now every commercial is for some sports book like “Draft Kings.”
How can the NFL, increasingly in league with gambling books, not end mobbed-up and fixed?
It’s ruining NFL football - the illusion that it’s a real sporting competition.
Once they start calling the NFL “entertainment” and not sports - it’s over.
The game I grew up loving will be like pro wrestling.
The date is set
So place your bets
Get what you get
The time you say
Is just for play
To come your way
The sense feels clear
For what is fear
But pain that's here
The touch of truth
Can give sure proof
In poise and groove
The lines of art
Words dare fling start
To echo heart
The charms of poise
Speak well of choice
In plain wise choice
The field of play
Is what you pay
In happy stay
The notes you earn
In what you yearn
Flings what you learn
The way is light
If you don't fight
Bold wit set right
The pain feels taut
In stress now caught
Where life seems fraught
The signs show well
To fill this spell
Where joy now dwells
The path feels light
When heart knows sight
That guides soul flight
Leon Enriquez
16 November 2014
Singapore
Can I can expound, like an oracle, both embodied and metaphorical,
holding collapse and pattern together at once—in a one-two punch?
Poetry has an awkwardness that makes grammar feel hazardous,
there’s a tired slipperiness to poetic form that’s seldom rapturous.
I stumble blind along a boulevard of uneven sentences,
tripping on rhyming rubble, dodging puddles of punctuation,
parked beat patterns, broken themes and literary pretenses.
I drift half-awake down corridors of clause and clutter,
sidestepping commas, cracked cadences, the debris of technique
and the stalled traffic of half-finished thoughts best not uttered.
Poems are concerned with stanzas, form, pace and sound,
that flow rather awkwardly, when the rhyme is unsound.
No GPS can map grammatical faults, predict didactic turns
or diagnose a disordered phrasing, as if physical curves -
thus avoiding the flaws of internal rhythm and rhyme in my words.
I use vignette as my prescriptive technique, trying to build clearer
thoughts, through the architecture of sentence - offering rhetorical mirrors
that smooth over fractures - generously layering narrative with example,
evidence, and explanation - with controlling literary tricks, like preamble.
Which should win—which is better—the poem or the vignette?
Step right up—readers—place your bets.
.
.
A song for this:
Go Left by Radiant Children
.
youtu.be/nY60hmGcSYk?is=pox6fHBACQ_bsP3j
The first drink is to calm the shakes
The second one to help erase
This retched life that I can't face
All because of my drinking days
The third one to take off the edge
The forth is more to help forget
All I said and all I did
When I downed that one drink left
The fifth makes me foolishly think I can
The sixth helps slur what words are left
Where all of this will end up at
Word to the wise, don't place your bets
The seventh turns into a cry for help
While the eighth one helps itself
On the ship that has set sail
Upon this demon liquids constant swell
After nine I can't remember why
Ten to see I'm legally blind
After all of this you would think I'd find
A better way to spend my time
It's up to you...
in how you do it
It's up to you...
in how you live
It's up to you...
if you never knew it
It's up to you...
in what you give
It's up to you...
to smile through it
It's up to you...
hit or miss
It's up to you...
save or lose it
It's up to you...
how deep you dig
It's up to you...
in how you play it
It's up to you...
in how it's kept
It's up to you...
in how you say it
It's up to you...
in where you step
It's up to you...
in how you spin it
It's up to you...
how you place your bets
It's up to you...
from the beginning
It's up to you...
until your death
It's up to you...