Short Arcade Poems

playing arcade games 
eating ice cream during storm 
buying souvenirs...

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Born a bright token
Life a rush in God’s arcade
Point's worth, all on Him...

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Spider crushed my 
fair experience, no more
arcade rides for me.


{I'm too old for these entertainments any more.}...

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Poor graphics,
disappear with your friends 
into a quest;
Tokens 
succumb  to virtual reality,
Shut down the arcade.. 
Game Over....

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Trump was seen in a penny arcade
Making eyes at a very old maid
Although she was old
Her facemask was gold
A Republican on Medicaid?...

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You Are 
      A cup of honey lemon tea
      A slice of blueberry cheesecake
      The claw machine in the arcade
      An orange-red sunset by the sea
      The Moon after a rainy night

All my favorites combined. ??...

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The alternate reality

Of a penny arcade..

Will it arise that

All realities including

What has been known

As the true one..are all

Alternate spinnings of

Stories which in their

Words and mapping

Seem to claim their

Grasp of imagination......

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The flashing lights shine 

Like a bright doorway 

Shining orange and white and bright colours 

Inside are challenges making winners and losers alike,
 
Driving with cars; shooting with guns, making sparkles and sounds that show how I am the gaming master here!...

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viscera wound tighter
   than the tightest rubber ball
   never mind bouncing off the walls
   guts like a pinball machine
   an arcade between the ears
   with tilt alarms screaming




02.10.19


For Capture That Emotion Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Nina Parmenter...

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Game Girl

Game Girl broke down the door at 3:00 am
She came demanding sex and marriage
Game boy was a virgin
This was his house
He gave the intruder five dollars
Vowed to see her later at the arcade
Game girl smothered him in kisses
Settled on the five to play 
Then went away...

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No Kiss me Quicks, no giggling girls,
no candy floss, no strawberry swirls,
no shuggy boats or bright blue skies
no donkey rides or coconut shies,
no arcade fun, no fishing off the pier,
no slot machines, no ginger beer.
November blues, an empty prom,
to sunny Spain they’ve all moved on....

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Behold the lit splendor of an arcade

that bleeds her copper shawl, its final glow

awaiting dusk to grasp last flares of blade,

when decimal of time changes the flow

and in repose, glazed orb succumbs to row.



`````````````


Theme # 3 Sunset Contest of Skat
Old Poem...

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Lullaby 1

to the sailor of gentle soul
soft feathers cross night skies
and all brief moments of tenderness
spent like pennies in an arcade
he afloat, as a curl of wood rests on glass

summer has flown  
the owl calls and she waits
a woman alone with fireflies
tilting her glass in fond salute
to the green wandering sea...

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Is all this Allusion
Simply an Illusion
Confusion becomes Arcane
Machination simulation
Overplayed Arcade
Compiled of piles
Underlayed charades 
All awhile a smile
From delayed Cliches
Versatile Beguile
Endures soft Laughter
Ensured another Chapter
The Lure is Pure
Unsure
Of what comes After
Life of Demure
Better than Life of Immure
Intertwining for the Finding
Of the Ultimate Cure...

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How many places on a person’s skin
can people find to place a pin?
Another tattoo, “woman on pole,”
colorful inks next to pinhole;
tongues a-pierced and skin a-flayed,
one’s body now a creative arcade.
Earlobes stretched to amazing size,
though I wonder, “Is that wise?”
There’s scenes of beauty, I will admit,
but some don’t know just when to quit.
So when friends suggest I get one done,
I turn around and quickly run....

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Eve outlines the curves of an old  terrain,
where antique bottles in their moonlit sheen
reflect pillars’ glow…now mildly unseen
from vintage halls of paling, roughened  grain:
All through this vine-clad manor’s dusky shade
poses outside  its  elegant  fig tree--
Which attests to  a once- royal marquee
this landmark, our own hometown’s proud arcade.


Written 9/7/2019
Free Verse Or Rhyme Contest of  Eve Roper
Picture # 3...

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Glistening throngs walk in detached cadence 
Sweating long necks on a production line
Along the boardwalk
Pungent saltwater and fried dough drifts
Ocean meets country fair

Constant clamor of teen and seagull
A multitude of color variation
Red to black
Whiffs of Coppertone and Noxzema
To ease the pain of the vain and pale

Summer at Happy Hampton Beach
Arcade upon arcade
Clinking bells and whirly sounds
“You’re a Winner!” it screams
And then we are gone, until next year...

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The worlds a stage
Mere players in this arcade 
Dear Mama I’m your created player in this game 
Don’t pour out a lil liquor pour out Champaign 
Till the cradle 2 da grave
Everyday the world gets more strange
Or strange things gets more normal
The devil sends more forces to forge my journal 
Fire inside me burns eternal 
More fiery fire to the flames my thirst grows
Writing music my nerves the notes
Dark world no love for Romeo
Juliet got jewels of stones 
Wisdom to crown her...

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