L M Biese Jan 2
How many emotions do we have?
cause I seem to have 5.

I love you
I hate you
I hate myself
I want to end it all
I need you

I can't decide which is me
so maybe you should just take a gamble for me<?
....
But gambling on 5 sided dice isn't something I recommend for you darling, because there's a 3/5 chance that I'll hurt you and I don't like those odds
Temporal Fugue Nov 2017
Roll the bones
tumbling the dice
taking toll
of every roll
wallowing, in vice

Crash the gate
have no doubt
way too late
no time to wait
just what, it's all about

Gambling thoughts
playing with no cash
all you've got
or have, not
speeding, to the crash

Every past reminder
having been here, before
keepers, and finders
exiting the grinder
all the blood, and gore
I prefer the cards, predicable compared
the dice, not nice, a chaos vice
ending in despair :D
Nylee Nov 2017
Life ladder is too high,
   snakes rule every step,
      luck dice not on my side
            and I am falling down.
Nonsense Poet Oct 2017
Opposite is arriving
What I´ll write
When a metaphorical internal
monologue intensify

What wild metaphor
witty life could be
If there was nothing to hide
Inside you and me

Useless efforts
Look at inside
Find words
About what write

Who knows
What I´ll find
Haunted game
Roll the dice
Mark Parker Jul 2017
Up flew the moonlight tide
flying like a stairway to the clouds.
The light blue stars twinkled
showing the impressionistic side
of the art that is supposed to be
the playing of dice by the four forces.
The beauty of it all seems suspicious.
Never mind it all, lets swim to the clouds.
Woohoo....I wish I was at the beach.
Star BG May 2017
Dice-like words toss around mind,
until ready for the written poem to emerge.
To tickle eyes that gracefully move.
To open heart for time to stop.
To heal pains and know ones not alone.
To retrieve memories with a smile
as melodies linger.

Hooray for playing the game of life with dice fully loaded.
Hooray for life that unfolds divinely.

StarBG © 2017
I'm grateful for my life with all its experiences. May you roll your own dice and move in the energies of a winner.
thegirlwhowrites Feb 2017
the turning felt much
like dice a'rolling. these hearts,
the proof of needing

022017
They promised to level you up
After a six month grind.
Took a ball point pen
kept your eyes on the macguffin.
but there's still rats in the basement
never made enough Rupees
To trade in this wooden sword
no matter how many teeth
or claws you trade in
You're still stuck behind a register
or mopping up XP from the local wildlife's viscera

During your daily quest
turning in the farmers daughter
you noticed a woman promptly positioned in your way.
Some bandits killed her father
and she just stuck around
Until you hit the local tavern
and drank too much whiskey
you ran off to fetch her some pearls
then while digging for CLAMS
You met a pirate man
Who asked you to steal back his map.
while you were finding his buried treasure
you happened to find a letter that
forced you into a coffee shop
and here you sit.

always fell for the macguffin
Now you caught the most obvious one.
Always running around, trading pelts for clues
But they just kept you busy so you never traveled out of town.
if you ever headed out

You'd be slaying more than dragons
there's more than princesses to set free
out here in the big world.
your next quest is self actualization
go Sattle up on that griffin.
and head to the farthest town.
You don't know how to make the gold right now

but if you stay here.
how are you gonna find out?
Gwar'th, a scranny peasent boy
from Deastbhillow
Frequented the tavern to hear the local bard play
Enthralled by stories of shipwrecks, cataclysms, Corpses rising from their graves.
He begged the bard over and over.
"Please! take me on your next adventure?"
Gwar'th locked eyes with the bard
Gave him every bit of attention.
The bard always declined,
"it's too dangerous for a child." He said,
"But I'll sing you a song.
The tale of the Red Metal Lute."
~~~
The sky was black
pouring buckets.
You couldn't see but walls of rain
you couldn't hear a damned thing.
Not even each other speak
Until A loud wail rose from the sea
shattered every window and bottle on board.
In the distance, a figure
unwaivered by the storm.
A ghostly figure,
with a red metal lute
Seemed to fly,
Loom on the rain.
the figure plucked a single string
wailing screams from years of forgotten dead
some sailors on board went mad
The woman and children ran inside.
The captain headed out the cabin.
Grabbed his lute from off the wall
Walked right up to the ghostly demon
Challenged him to a duel.
"I win, you lure me the biggest fish
inside this ghostly sea
Once we haul it back to shore,
you let my sailers leave."
The ghostly demon preached back in wail
"My spoils claim each drop of blood
left upon your ship,
you'll join all the eternal tongues
wailing from my instrument."
They played their lutes so hard that storms whipped bruised wailed and brown
Lighting struck, fire popped and squeltched under the heavy rain.
Not a soul on board could hear the music, for they all deaf from the banshees wail.
But one small float snuck cloaked in shadows from the duel above the sails.
It had a mother and a brother
a baby in the mothers arms.
They made mostly to shore.
The oceans trials took all the family, but I, the baby,
A boy.
I don't know who won, the Captain, the Demon.
But I know one thing is true.
The power that lies within' an instrument
is more then anybody knew.
~~~
One foggy night in Deastbhillow
Long after the tavern closed
The bard was packing for a 'venture
loading up the partys caravan to head out of town
Gwar'th snuck on behind the treasure chests.
It stopped in front of a cavern
Five adventurers stepped off
A knight, a priest, a bard, a Clairvoyant
And In the shadows,
Gwar'th.

Down in the belly of the cave
Past the bones and the torches
there was a red glowing from the end
THE RED METAL LUTE
Gwar'th, excited, lunged from the shadows
Alerting the party.
The knight drew his weapon
The bard struck a chord
The priest prayed
And The Clairvoyant read the boys mind.
Together They killed the boy in cold blood.

"What did it look like to you?" Said the Preist
to the knight who slaughtered the boy.
"A beautiful woman.
What did it look like to you?" The knight asked the priest.
"My god."
"What did it look like to the boy?" The bard asked.
"An instrument," said the Clairvoyant, "A powerful instrument.
What did it look like to you?"

The bard looked down.
"The boy."
SassyJ Apr 2016
A universal numbered tent shifting
Shake the luck and roll the digits
Children of debt conditioned in pipes
Ripples of controversy, cynical troops

Minute truce and truth plummets
Rackets of balls pouncing in roles
Side to side, stroll as we slide on slopes
Universally bond, tantalised in hymns

All sunk in shells with marching troops
Dreams await a harvested in mud holes
Clayed and attached to institutional reforms
On trays waitings the luck of the cosmic dice
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