Long Roulette wheel Poems
Long Roulette wheel Poems. Below are the most popular long Roulette wheel by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Roulette wheel poems by poem length and keyword.
Please don’t blame the automatic weapon
that synagogue killed me, tragically,
the other day
The hands which held it
are Second Amendment clean —
Gunpowder washed in crimson water
of dogma purity
I was just the latest recipient
of an over-the-counter, scarlet backorder
Which came with a limited scope range
death warranty: Multiple kill shot guaranteed
So pistol please, don’t fire scattered aspersions
at the sacred bear arms ground of innocent gunplay
Judgmental splattered tones
always try to open fire and spit spray fault
in a bullet hale of invective trigger rain
To cover misconstrued issues
over fresh, bystander corpse bloodstains
It’s just eulogy plain dirt wrong,
to give credence to indignant moans
berating innocent gunplay
I wish somebody six-feet above
could control
this outrageous, gun burst cry of
emotional criticism
Knee jerks got no ex-caliber love —
Glamorous magazine
affinity for kinetic pellets thereof
Bear arms pawns like me want more
Camelot night undertakers,
wearing grizzly gravedigger gloves
My only tear grievous cardinal sin,
(of fearful last rites)
was that I wasn’t gat blast packing
to give a gun battle fight
I was just good target practice
for some gun-toting holster devotee
Us untimely death mismatches
got smoking barrel burned
On this, we can collaterally all agree
That poor, inanimate weapon
was simply an unsuspecting vessel,
used in a grisly altar sacrifice
Ricochet oath bound
to help a hot metal head
exercise their inalienable right
to take a life
Don’t muzzle blame that clean weaponry please ...
or the washed Pilate hand
that calmly palm pulled the deadly squeeze
This is just the roulette wheel price
which every American Idle breathing body
gotta rolling barrel, lottery chance take
Winners get their engraved names
obit posted,
without any undue process
yellow tape delay
And this I must say
with deadly seriousness —
We of the speeding spherical fallen,
slain by the blessed cray cray ...
be fatal fatality souls
Those bullet-hailed as revered victims
of the hated, innocent gunplay
A paramilitary paramour
He sang those words…..
The words I could not summon sans a vociferous voice
lack of those words gave me nil another choice
lo to be laid low by chance and a chaliced BODY
TO SIP WHERE LIPS OF LUSCIOUS LUST HAD BRIEFLY ONCE RESIDED
A CUP WITH A DUTY TO BEAUTY which, by a smile, had been duly DECIDED
AS i,
BY THE HAND OF HAUGHTINESS AND NAUGHTINESS WAS EVER SO mystically misguided
AND BY HER disastrously dishonorable DECISION WAS DESTINY DERIDED
Woe to THOSE WORDS HE was urged TO Sing THAT WERE ETHCED UPON THE EDGES OF MY SILOUETTE
WHEN AT FIRST MINE EYES BY MAGIC had been MET
SHE Beside A ROULETTE WHEEL WHICH SPUN AT HER WILL AND her WHIM
THE first NIGHT SHE BECAME my “HER” AND i to be her “HIM”
A flicker WHEN A CASINO’S BRIGHT LIGHTS,
COMPARED TO THE BRIGHTNESS OF HER AURA,
WERE DEEMED TO DIM
BUT ALL TOO SOON That evening….
LIKE geriatric GERANIUMS ………GREW grim
AND I With SO VERY MUCH TO SAY
I with SUCH AND SUCH TO SAY
BUT TORMENT HAD TIED WELL MY TONGUE IN A KNOT OF NERVOUS TENSION
AND TOO MUCH ANGUISH for me TO POSSIBLY MENTION
As STOOD I SILENCED BY A SANCTIMONIOU SMILE
MUTED BY THE MAGIC OF A SEDUCTRESS GUIDED BY GUILE
I was FAR ToO WEAK TO SPEAK OF THE BLEEK
WHEN BEING MINUS MAGIC MANAGED TO MAKE A MUSCLED MAN MUCH TOO MEEK
Bearing the unbearable TWIXT TWAIN AND TWIGS on a trembling tree TO TWEAK
NAY, NOT I, THIS MAN who yet could not be coaxed to SPEAK
AND SO HE SANG THOSE WORDS WITH A SONG SUNG IN MY STATEMENT’S STEAD
HE SANG SOMETHING ABOUT SADNESS, SLUMBER AND A DESIRE FOR HIS EX-PARAMOUR TO Be BEGOTTEN DEAD
Well that’s what he sang
And that’s exactly what I would have sung
For a woman wherein my stars and hopes were hung
If memories of magic and the music of majestic grace had not been eroding my mind and DEGENERATING my head
Hell,
what he sang in his song so soulfully sung is substantially what i would have said
when my hope and lover both were declared dead
© 2013...copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee~
A paramilitary paramour
He sang those words…..
The words I could not summon sans a vociferous voice
lack of those words gave me nil another choice
lo to be laid low by chance and a chaliced BODY
TO SIP WHERE LIPS OF LUSCIOUS LUST HAD BRIEFLY ONCE RESIDED
A CUP WITH A DUTY TO BEAUTY which, by a smile, had been duly DECIDED
AS i,
BY THE HAND OF HAUGHTINESS AND NAUGHTINESS WAS EVER SO mystically misguided
AND BY HER disastrously dishonorable DECISION WAS DESTINY DERIDED
Woe to THOSE WORDS HE was urged TO Sing THAT WERE ETHCED UPON THE EDGES OF MY SILOUETTE
WHEN AT FIRST MINE EYES BY MAGIC had been MET
SHE Beside A ROULETTE WHEEL WHICH SPUN AT HER WILL AND her WHIM
THE first NIGHT SHE BECAME my “HER” AND i to be her “HIM”
A flicker WHEN A CASINO’S BRIGHT LIGHTS,
COMPARED TO THE BRIGHTNESS OF HER AURA,
WERE DEEMED TO DIM
BUT ALL TOO SOON That evening….
LIKE geriatric GERANIUMS ………GREW grim
AND I With SO VERY MUCH TO SAY
I with SUCH AND SUCH TO SAY
BUT TORMENT HAD TIED WELL MY TONGUE IN A KNOT OF NERVOUS TENSION
AND TOO MUCH ANGUISH for me TO POSSIBLY MENTION
As STOOD I SILENCED BY A SANCTIMONIOU SMILE
MUTED BY THE MAGIC OF A SEDUCTRESS GUIDED BY GUILE
I was FAR ToO WEAK TO SPEAK OF THE BLEEK
WHEN BEING MINUS MAGIC MANAGED TO MAKE A MUSCLED MAN MUCH TOO MEEK
Bearing the unbearable TWIXT TWAIN AND TWIGS on a trembling tree TO TWEAK
NAY, NOT I, THIS MAN who yet could not be coaxed to SPEAK
AND SO HE SANG THOSE WORDS WITH A SONG SUNG IN MY STATEMENT’S STEAD
HE SANG SOMETHING ABOUT SADNESS, SLUMBER AND A DESIRE FOR HIS EX-PARAMOUR TO Be BEGOTTEN DEAD
Well that’s what he sang
And that’s exactly what I would have sung
For a woman wherein my stars and hopes were hung
If memories of magic and the music of majestic grace had not been eroding my mind and DEGENERATING my head
Hell,
what he sang in his song so soulfully sung is substantially what i would have said
when my hope and lover both were declared dead
© 2013...copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee~
A paramilitary paramour
He sang those words…..
The words I could not summon sans a vociferous voice
lack of those words gave me nil another choice
lo to be laid low by chance and a chaliced BODY
TO SIP WHERE LIPS OF LUSCIOUS LUST HAD BRIEFLY ONCE RESIDED
A CUP WITH A DUTY TO BEAUTY which, by a smile, had been duly DECIDED
AS i,
BY THE HAND OF HAUGHTINESS AND NAUGHTINESS WAS EVER SO mystically misguided
AND BY HER disastrously dishonorable DECISION WAS DESTINY DERIDED
Woe to THOSE WORDS HE was urged TO Sing THAT WERE ETHCED UPON THE EDGES OF MY SILOUETTE
WHEN AT FIRST MINE EYES BY MAGIC had been MET
SHE Beside A ROULETTE WHEEL WHICH SPUN AT HER WILL AND her WHIM
THE first NIGHT SHE BECAME my “HER” AND i to be her “HIM”
A flicker WHEN A CASINO’S BRIGHT LIGHTS,
COMPARED TO THE BRIGHTNESS OF HER AURA,
WERE DEEMED TO DIM
BUT ALL TOO SOON That evening….
LIKE geriatric GERANIUMS ………GREW grim
AND I With SO VERY MUCH TO SAY
I with SUCH AND SUCH TO SAY
BUT TORMENT HAD TIED WELL MY TONGUE IN A KNOT OF NERVOUS TENSION
AND TOO MUCH ANGUISH for me TO POSSIBLY MENTION
As STOOD I SILENCED BY A SANCTIMONIOU SMILE
MUTED BY THE MAGIC OF A SEDUCTRESS GUIDED BY GUILE
I was FAR ToO WEAK TO SPEAK OF THE BLEEK
WHEN BEING MINUS MAGIC MANAGED TO MAKE A MUSCLED MAN MUCH TOO MEEK
Bearing the unbearable TWIXT TWAIN AND TWIGS on a trembling tree TO TWEAK
NAY, NOT I, THIS MAN who yet could not be coaxed to SPEAK
AND SO HE SANG THOSE WORDS WITH A SONG SUNG IN MY STATEMENT’S STEAD
HE SANG SOMETHING ABOUT SADNESS, SLUMBER AND A DESIRE FOR HIS EX-PARAMOUR TO Be BEGOTTEN DEAD
Well that’s what he sang
And that’s exactly what I would have sung
For a woman wherein my stars and hopes were hung
If memories of magic and the music of majestic grace had not been eroding my mind and DEGENERATING my head
Hell,
what he sang in his song so soulfully sung is substantially what i would have said
when my hope and lover both were declared dead
© 2013...copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee~
Personas have limits, boundaries veiled by the thin masquerade of pretense
They whisper promises of identity, yet crack under pressure of reality's weight—poet
She puts on her face while vaping smoke surrounds,
Carefully paints fishtail eyes , studs, and crimson lips,
satin scarfs around hug her hips
Bindi adorned when with the Janes
A sterling nose ring pierces a membrane
Azure pools of light inserted—contact’s atop
wistful deeper dark reddish brown longing lens
Riffles through a cosmetic bag,
Faberge`a final touch then off she struts
Spinning the roulette wheel in random realms
Burned through one persona after another
The mask worn smothers
Charcoal tears pour down her cherry cheeks
Personas have their limitations
Reinventions only break the tiresome tensions
Infinite shades of pale, anemic, listless
Darker are the shadows that deem
Her skin is frail, weakness fills a ship and torn it’s sail
Though her wit retains its cutting edge
out on the ledge an empty soul on trial
Tragic trends suit her
Charcoal tears won’t save her
Metamorphosis’s demise, elusive unmasked
Limited are the bounds of weakness,
Marie-Thérès Picasso’s golden muse
hung herself after his death
Now a frozen memory in the dark daze
as nothing else remains its love’s myth
She played the games we may or not resist
Gone those days frozen in merciless mist
where fate awaits
The pendulum swings
(Left to right)
Zenith approaches
The vortex opens up…
With head spinning
My spin is heading
Towards your light
On the coattails of a watch and chain…
Tumbling down the word hole
Collecting words,
From the wall of air
That surrounds me,
To consume later…
Too much later
As quixotic adventures
Tilt me away from my pen
And images of you burn ever deeper
Onto the backs of my eyelids
Am I losing you?
Am I losing me?
Do I exist?
Did I ever?
It seems I am always risking
My life
My love…
The roulette wheel
Catches my fall…
Still spinning
I follow the white star
Onto the red
Where the tinker rings her bell
Smiling a Cheshire smile
Holding a blue-eyed pill in one hand
And a red-headed pill in the other…
Unblinking
The blue’s stare
Pierces my heart…
The burning flames of the red
Kiss the bleeding desire of my lips
Dissolving on my tongue
I am afraid to open my eyes
But, risking a glance downwards
The insane grin on my mad hat
Slips to cover Dorothy’s red shoes
That Alice stole from Robin
In Sherwood’s green forest
Now I am calm
As I enter your wonderland…
Melding with your mind
Dancing with your spirit
Swaying with your rhythm
Embracing all that you are
I am holding you so tight…
As the tears roll down my cheeks
The pull of never land
Tearing me from your bed of white roses
Back to the thorns on my bed of nails…
As...
(Right to left)
The pendulum swings
ABIDING IN THE STAGE OF PEARLS
When first we met,
Red paper hearts,
Sailor-Clipped,
Arrows piquing interest.
He saw three O’s
In a bonnie row,
Ripe for the picking.
He chose Friday
And she chose a prince.
Aladdin, a rough diamond
Would shake the snowglobe.
I’m dizzy in my knees.
The earth spins, like
A roulette wheel, with
Many stops. We cruise.
The diamond ring
Sliced through my finger
Bloody red with hearts.
He’d kiss to make all better.
A carnival celebration —
Loop of forever-after,
Flourishing lei with
Fluorescent colors,
Also the kukui nut lei
Of royals — fit for a prince,
Shell necklace of Jamaica
And a dangling
Diamond embrace.
After years of infighting
About nothing at all,
Laid to rest,
In a plain wooden box.
Ashes tossed out to sea,
To live amidst its turgid
Seaweed, caught in
Its own cast net.
The years of pearls —
Lively chattering clams,
White teeth of pure
Ecstasy, floating
On calm seas.
Middles bulge, dyed hair —
The prince and princess
On leather thrones,
Fighting only of volume
And room temperature.
Embracing kids
And aging parents
All so tight,
With eight tentacled legs.
Wallpaper of snapshots,
Glued to starry eyes,
Wonder what was with
All the yells and cries.
The whirlpool sucks
All such memories dry,
Leaving a steady calm
For family to lean on —
Counting fingers and toes,
Each with diamonds
All their own.
5/24/2018
Youth is Gone
By Franklin Price
3/30/2017
Youth is gone forever, and is never to return.
No matter how we wish it, a sorcerer's spell to yearn.
Sneaks up on us quite stealthily and quickly races by
With just the turning of a head and the blinking of an eye.
Although we wish for it again, forever it is gone
We are, what we lived life to be; a king or simple pawn.
The cards were dealt, the dice were tossed, the roulette wheel was spun.
We've walked the winding path of life, have, at times, both lost and won.
Were we good, or were we bad, did we help one another?
Did we raise a helping hand, to our sister and our brother?
Did we raise a family who respects their fellow man?
Can we look back proudly on our steps within the sand?
Even with some age on us, we have not reached the end.
We can still contribute to the world and to a friend.
It's not too late for us to change, if we're not who we like.
We can tell the bad in us to go and take a hike
Relight the light that lit your way from youth to age's hill
It may be a little tough, you can do it if you will.
Place your torch atop the hill, on the darkest sea to shine;
A guiding light for others who may follow in your line.
Although your youth is gone, and you're longer in the tooth,
Show you've learned diplomacy and a little bit of couth
Hug shoulders of both friend and foe and lend a helping hand
And the young and old together can help mend a broken land
A gossamer promise of infinite wisdom,
Spun tightly in silk for your own protection.
Rolls off the tongue like rich double cream,
Enticed beyond reason, living a dream.
Weaving a web in between lies and deceit,
Dangling there, constantly, just beyond reach.
Goading you, coaxing you, making you need,
Promises of more than you’d ever believe.
A slight of hand, and the trick of the light,
Spins the roulette wheel and the rolling dice.
Lulled by imagination and the thrill of winning,
Your interest is piqued, this is just the beginning.
Excitement not marred by the loss to be born,
While niggling words in your head try to warn.
Just a little fun, really, where is the harm,
As you grip the dice tightly again in your palm.
Sweat trickles down your brow as you focus,
Concentration immense, your spell is not broken.
Lost in your own world, the buzz is intense,
You have to win now, you know it makes sense.
Lady lucky was deceptive, whispering lies,
Watching you as usual, kiss your wages goodbye.
IOU not accepted, and you’re all out of cash,
If only you had the chance to have one last bash.
You are totally in love with the thrill of the dice,
It comforts you somehow, it just seems so right.
Morbidly defensive, you could never have known,
As you take your loss out on your family at home
©.L.Kelly
He’s the devil in your tormented dreams
The shadowy, nightmarish silhouette imp
of a thousand horror newscast,
who muzzles your petrified screams
Keeping those silent eyes
glued to the vile, video killing screen
Black Plague monstrosity figurine
showing you a million different exits
from the corporeal plane
Bungee craze got started by the Bughuul Man
His roulette wheel spinning
is daresay snake oil squeaking Russian
Walking the fine line between barely living and dying
is an aerial tightrope
painfully designed by this venal master of suffering
Enamel-coated Ebonics
spastically say he sho’ nuff
be the Bogeyman
Wearing a spook face colored cotton
He’s the white lightening flashing
in your blackest dream
Cast down from heaven,
the prince of this world is a terror king
His empty empathy sockets
got a madness, murderous gleam
Bughuul Man,
Bughuul Man
Blowing gunsmoke holes
in your irregular brain stem seams
Busting caps in your comfort zone gap
between your eardrum beams
Bughuul Man,
Bughuul Man
This jinn-cursed malevolent being,
with the trident-shaped, hot cattle prod poking
Is the tainted sleep trickster,
whose been given a certified imaginary rating