Long Roulette Poems
Long Roulette Poems. Below are the most popular long Roulette by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Roulette poems by poem length and keyword.
learned nothing from the past
by faces drawn in a smile
we're spinning over it like on a carousel
and again, each time it makes us vomit, we remain stunned
we're leisurely starting to resemble like hamsters
cramming into our gob more than we can handle
ignoring reality frantically spinning in that wheel
now
the stores are closed
playgrounds are enclosed
how little did we appreciate small things
by social distance
desolate supermarket shelves
and respirators reserved for the younger ones
they have put a price tags on seniors' heads
(thank you for your service)
it is defeating that online shopping holds lessons from morality
(thank you amazon and eBay)
it is defeating that without us our home is healing, rebuilding
(I'm sorry mother for I have sinned)
order to keep our social distance at 2m
revealed all the distances in our personal spaces
(the dead are always giving the lecture to the living ones:
regret is a measure of life)
we will survive medically
but socially
we all live our choices
putting on a mask as an escape from death
made us envisage
that piece of fabric is a metaphor
for words left unspoken
for words that shouldn't have been spoken
for smiles which didn't have the weight
for smiles hidden from aerosol
(life is reduced to breathing)
governments are screaming:
this is reality
this is reality
every now and then a new projection flashes in cyberspace:
it's Chinese
it's American
(Americans blame the Chinese, Iranians blame the Americans: During that Russian roulette, Italy got shot)
it's G5
it 's micro-chipping
it's nature
it escaped
it is here
I can see how paths of our society bifurcate
(it's almost palpable)
will we choose a rightful trajectory
or
pave the way for some new prejudices,
some new conflicts
Better to have loved and lost,
Than love not at all and pay that cost?
Believe this, do you? I pray thee tell.
Explain upon parchment with ink and quill.
How do you see this as such a great way?
By love’s toils and sufferings you wish to live out your days?
To love and lose is better than heartache none?
Explain to me this riddle, for perhaps I am dumb.
Pour out blood, sweat, even tears
for unknown time, indefinite years.
Lose arm, lose leg, but fret at all? Nay!?
Why not, I ask? Because it is worth love for a day?
Do you ever attain satiety, which leads to ennui?
Or do you believe euphoria continues all throughout loving?
And what, my inquiry is, after it reaches its end?
By death, fallout, or complacency it does not depend.
Left with ages wasted, left a shell of a man.
So much to be lost, having given the best to them.
But perhaps I have played fool, and I fail to understand.
Perhaps to gamble on love would make better this man.
So what if I lose? What if I win?
A lifelong companion, faithful til end.
Such are the stakes in romance’s roulette.
A stab in the heart, or keep Cherished eternally.
Worth the chance? Contest it, would I.
indeed it is, though part of me might die.
Worse to keep love locked away
Than to lose, having loved,
even if for but a day.
Sometimes in life, though we’ve paid all our dues,
We’re given the screws; we’ve been had and we lose.
The shot that we thought was our best one has failed.
Our hopes have derailed; opponents prevailed.
We either can wallow or rise from the muck
And swallow our pride and proceed with pure pluck.
There’s nothing to gain staying down in the dumps;
Just rein in the pain and accept a few lumps.
Tomorrow will dawn like it usually does.
We’ll look back and wonder what all the buzz was;
And maybe we’ll put it all high on a shelf
To satisfy something inside of ourself.
If not, then we’ll flounder, a fish in a net;
An easy-out grounder or Russian roulette.
For life is unfair much more often than not
And despair is the lot that at times we have got.
Now you know full well what they're about, they're about using you
aint know better than wizards of wall street, rockin the beat with a juke.
Vegas bookies abetting frauds taking odds right against you,
left to die in the streets, exasserbated by your mental masturbated mood.
Playing russian roulette with only our head at the gun,
stirring up hatred for fun
the quest we're on is, when are you going to join us white folk
brother to brother arm in arm
most of us been waiting for you, we also the ones sounding the alarm
we hear the sirens in the street, we cry when your babies cry. We got Georgia....(guidestones) on our minds.
Now we aint made inside from some flesh that aint pink.
Same as you, we were derived, from Adam and Eve.
Each of us alone the only thing we got is each other, that's ALL there IS. Sister and Brother.
We have a common enemy, that which takes principality against us.
With Sins many fetishes of cowardice de unrelentus.
31 flavors so many ways to taste, the victory of defeat, disunity caused by cowards with immunity at rocky road place. hobbledstoned in the streets, Hoodwinked with their nuts in our face.
Don't rub it in, like "now you're on top, we got Obama!
make people suck on my chocolate dipped cone of invincibility pop docudrama.
I bet it makes the taste of vanilla so sweet,
but instead leaves a bad taste, in the palate of the nationality.
Too much high flying, smack talking, maligning personality
there aint no union in a "aint seen nothin like me"
I think you better stick with a spoon,
instead of the knife in our backs
a silver one for coddled athletes, and hip hop tools, im just saying dont say "always bet on black", thats racist fool
You got nothin else but race baiting to do,
besides your backupsinger's,
even when they more talented than you.
I see some people walking on eggshells
where the chickens have come home to roost,
making omelets with and sales of those with lower IQ
the yokes of goodwill and the r(o)(o)sters, themselves, Santaria tools .
A cupola shin, prickly dick creed, hoary
testes tossed, master baiting ova all eel trades
crossed the fecund Rubicon and ejaculated
olly olly oxen yawping, in utero seminal raids
with phallic coup d’etat that buck came vasocongested spades
lit torch, where hello kitty Ernst lee screeched
amidst Grafenberg tit parades
bumping uglies during four nuke key eight ting game
where pinkish puckered two lips viz biological
Russian roulette played – birth control relegated as desuetude
hotly contested fee conned, caved heat seminal blitzkrieg overlaid
bilging swamped,
whence olds eye goat ruff fused exiting nightshade
shy ham mull in, and gave way to blast ta cyst
vis a visa viz biological fertilization qua two plump milkmaids
from inchoate seeds juiced beginning
to compress bladder re: lemonades
per diem mother via umbilical cord fueling gestation,
where sonogram shows faint genetic threnody skein
perchance manifold jades
nope – no fallacy when peppy thrust with sucks esse full feint
after thwarting objection against skin flute charmed thence invades
which begot conception from chromosomal traits stitched
via jean S, and her faction of trumpeting handmaids
whose fecund ditty began to feel swell as biological reproduction
showed no uterine back grades
as Tabula rasa In utero endured fusillades per what mother tubby ingested
sustenance promulgated noticeable womb dar full expansion fusillades
of nutriments ordaining future health of progeny
riddling endless questions within the gallimaufry
discombobulated mental, physical fatigue enfilades
and spiritual state of momma me ya in tha family way, whereby baby blueprint an outcome as nano sized atomic bombshells scoured decades
to determine the ontological makeup from when the fluid dynamics
spelling impregnation since time immemorial and into the future cascades
artfully concatenating eminent grise immaculate kindred laminated with waxy substance i.e. vernix, though smooth
doth serve analogous to microscopic switch-blades.
Form:
DESTROYER vs' GARETH # 3
You hit me a bit on the 3rd round
I'm not easy to knock on the ground
Literarily I'm still on my feet
In poetry, there are no side effects
Still your words have no sound
I came out of nowhere, like a threat
Your mind blew a cold sweat
Like a cigarette, I smoked you:-(
I made you sit on your poo
You don't have what it takes for Russian Roulette:-(
I put your file in a shame book
Stuck you in a cell hole, like a crook
My identity I give it a twirl
My only pearls found in a Play Girl
Between my legs, take one last look:-)
Gareth, permission to call a lawyer
Surrender your pen, to the destroyer
Apparently this you did not enjoy
Sentence of community service, WATERBOY!!
Under the supervision, "I am your new employer."
You had your head start
You miss like a blind dart
Now you called the last stop
Unfortunate I'm on top
Vultures devouring sweet flesh,
spit your words out like a fart.
On your second round, cutting you slack.
Are you done with the Anxiety attack:-(
A fountain pen, paper, packed by your Mother.
She threw them out by the gutter.
Mr James, time is up, hit the road, Jack.
The POETRY DESTROYER,
just struck back.
NOTE: (-: fun.:-)
I bet red or black
Or I bet odd or even
It’s even money
I bet first eighteen
If the number will be low.
That’s even money
I bet last eighteen
If the number will be high
Even money too.
I win two for one
If I bet on the dozens
Low, middle, and high.
There are column bets
These pay two for one also
There are three columns
And you have line bets
They are bets on six numbers
Paying five to one
You have the top line
The zeros and one, two, three.
That pays six to one.
You have corner bets
These are bets for four numbers
These pay eight to one.
Don’t forget street bets.
They pay eleven to one
These three number bets.
Want to bet a split?
They cover two numbers each
Seventeen to one
Those straight up numbers
Are the ones paying the most.
Thirty-five to one.
I will make my bets.
Here’s my money for my chips.
Spin me some winners!
They were young starry-eyed, yet too soon so many had to die.
Brave to a fault with wanderlust of youth, no challenge spurned however seemingly uncouth.
In azure blue skies with only clouds as friends, they sought their prey through war's myopic lens.
No quarter given and none spared by their foes, incandescent bullets superseding schoolyard blows.
Skill and verve no match for destiny's roulette, to survive another day an all too losing bet.
Still they flew and fought with all their might, for love of country protecting it from blight.
Summoned by that bell with its strident chilling tones, pervading every pore of their worn and tired bones.
Verve and duty each relying on the other, no place to hide but raw courage as their cover.
For all those boys that fast turned into men, saving our isles from sweeping plain to gleaming glen,
We shall remember you forever in our lore, the few that gave so much and often so much more.
The gambler
The night, on the other side of the bay, is a spinning roulette
garish, the entrance to the cave of the netherworld
guns and uniforms at the place of iniquity; remove your hat, sir!
The voice is menacing, a hand gripping a gun.
Eyes are dark pools transfixed, much to lose, one spin more
the self-loathing is a frozen grin, the light on the promenade
throws itself into the dark water simulating self-destruction
one more cast of the dice; luck will return
There is no winner in this obscene hunt for the unobtainable
small wins are quickly lost at the wheel of hope and sorrow
one more gamble before the day awakes to more indignity
as the losers walk home in defeated silence.
I feel like Archimedes building calculus from scratch;
Got a lever I can lean on, but the fulcrum doesn’t match.
You’ll find them on the scoreboard
And every roulette wheel.
They help you cheat at blackjack
By sweetening the deal.
I feel like Isaac Newton making gravity a game,
Setting poetry in motion, riding Kepler’s horse to fame.
They figure into interest rates
to calculate the yield,
And help the fans identify
The players on the field.
I feel like Alan Turing cracking codes at Bletchley Park,
Decrypting the enigma of injustice in the dark.
They calculate the census,
And quantify amounts.
They’re handy for those vultures
Who tally body counts.
I feel like when Bob Seeger sang of bad arithmetic,
And rocked his Silver Bullet Band in Hindu Arabic.
They give a helpful estimate
Of what we’ll have to pay.
Just amortize your mortgage rate
And wait for Judgement Day.