Short Gamblers Poems

We live as gamblers
monumental exposures 
Karma camera...

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Horses leave the gate
Cold Gamblers anticipate…
Favored comes in late...

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won it all and lost
gave away the best at cost
  boxed the rest in pine...

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In front the table
Filled with hustlers and gamblers
Wallet ripped open...

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Mankind’s sorrow felt
in HIS blood salvation dwelt….

on knees gamblers knelt...

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Gamblers – Lune for contest

lucky charms
scattered under chair
without milk


//visual #7//

8/6/2015...

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A lass best described as a flirt
Flaunts assets cached under her skirt
But gamblers know
Its all for show
She's afraid of losing her shirt!...

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God was branded to be non-essential
gamblers and boozers were preferential
the playgrounds were yellow taped 
but no crime had taken place
while cons buffed their 38 specials...

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MOTHS are to scorching candleflames

     as CLIMBERS are to steep mountains

          as GAMBLERS are to fickle chance

               as LOVERS are to starry-eyed romance!...

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Chalkware was a 40’s hit in our small Midwest town.
The carnies let some win, when the gamblers came around
My aunt had a collection
Cherished them with affection
Put them in her dishwasher and mowed them all down....

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The cicada makes a mysterious red invasion every 13 years
Maybe they're superstitious or gamblers... how weird!!!
What if us humans hibernated
Emerge craving food, eyes dilated
Screams would crash through drums of neighbours ears...

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Collectors, traveling from far,
Dig in ashes piled behind
The weather-whitened, ghost-town bar:
Whiskey bottles there to find.

A hundred years have come to pass:
Cowboys—gamblers—girls—all dead.
Half-buried legacies of glass
Gleam beneath the rotting shed....

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Wherever borne is The cross,
Christ is The Sure Boss:
His Kingdom, a good distance from loss,
Your guaranteed profit in gross;
Your dully painted walls, Brilliant Gloss,
Every rolling stone clothed in Moss…
No room for the coins gamblers toss
And a dying interest in somebody else’s Ross....

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dice lay where they stopped off edge,
two nines a six and a seven lay dead,
the green baze not understang the law,
evan tho its been played here before.

the gossimer swaying under the table leg,
the spiders home once, long dead,
the atmosphere an ever ressent tinge,
the farkeled gamblers head bows....

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I was born in Jerusalem
But I was not Jewish
My hair made of gold
I was given silver teeth
And a ticket to the mid-rush
The gamblers and confessors
Pleads of needs for grace
And as dismayed as I was in the kicked dust
My greivance bade me well 
In even darker corridors
Where the good remove borders 
Through hagglers and horders...

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A woman in travail, to give birth, 
above her head a crown of twelve stars. 
Clothed with the Sun, 
the moon at her feet.
 
The day the Universe changed.
The day the water broke,
the banks.
Of Evermore.
The Manchild to come.
Restore.
Come to overtake the gamblers
abetting against Heavens ranks.
Waging wages against its humble
and poor....

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Gaslight room
you had it all
the laughing and dancing
You gave me words
but no tune
How time goes by
when you're trying to enjoy yourself

Doffing your head
its the madness without a glint
The gamblers are playing a winning game
They say your love cant fit
Playing the mandolin
The only crime is being blindfolded
washed down your stale wine...

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A show called “Luck” on HBO
Has just been given the heave-ho.
It deals with gamblers at the track
But now it won’t be coming back.

The acting’s strong and so’s the writing;
All the racing’s so exciting.
Yet three horses somehow died;
PETA protests won’t subside.

It’s a shame – the show was great
From its first burst out the gate.
It had moxie, guts and pluck;
What it didn’t have was luck!...

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Natural urges rising surprising 
Euphoria flowing tip to toe 
Out of the blue coming over you
There’s not much you can do

Years go by you control the high
Burying addictions deep inside 
Some have drugs for there buzz 
Others are looking for impossible love

Gamblers spend time telling lies 
Runners chasing euphoria high
Eating to much creating a rush
Drinking smoking choking die...

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After the civil war in temples
a wodden god
with broken nose, was walking
with a stick.

Half-way to home
he wanted to turn back
and meet his shadow
in the lake.

A mountain goat climbs
down the rocks to become
a martyr. Leaps into a dark
stream clinging to the veil.

A blue pine takes a bath
in the summer rain. A 
midnight moon will call the spirits
to dance for gamblers.


Satish Verma...

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At first, it was like a fable
That a strung-up cable
Would be perfectly able
To remain stable 
As far as a far-off table
But this, magically, did
The openness of a pot without lid …

And The Doubting his shame hid,
Still Abel’s companion did him bid
Not to walk away like a kid 
For having walked into rules gamblers heed
First surrendering The Five thousand agreed …

But-Alas! –Careless Abel
Was not able....

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Moths are to scorching candle flames

                                   as climbers are to steep mountains,

                                       as gamblers are to fickle chance,

                                           as lovers are to starry-eyed romance;

                                               ah, the seductive allure

                                                   of that which is lethal!...

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Listen to poem:

Technological Transition to a Modern World
David J Walker

The Earth comprised of earthy scent
Labored sweat 
		Grim regret 
80 years have sown

The Earth revised by measure lent 
The hunters net
		A daily threat 
90 years have flown

The Earthy prize a treasure spent 
A gamblers fret 
		An unpaid bet
100 years on loan

The Earth receives unearthly bent 
The loss offset 
		A crude asset 
1000 years have flown...

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What can be done when horses don’t run on the track?
Slot machines and table games bring the gamblers back.
Compared to horses, casinos bring in much more money.
People prefer to stay inside where it is not sunny.
Racetracks all over are making the transformation.
New casinos are popping up all over the nation.
These are the places compulsive gamblers will choose.
There are now more houses where these unfortunates will lose.
...

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A head goes for a laborer’s pad,
After losses to friends at card;
Whatever reaches him he’ll guard,  
As life remains unbearably hard.

A head goes ahead to fix a pad
For fifty bags of cement Andrew had;
For making A Final Good out of The Bad
And seeing to still feeding his lad;
If, in the end, very little shall go mad
After first becoming inconsolably  sad …

But, henceforth, no careless imitation of bard
While with Careful Gamblers at card....

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