#roulette
why do i want to see
where this goes?
why do i want to take
everything to its logical conclusion?
why am i curious about you?
who are you?
i have everything to lose
and everything to gain
you?
this little weird connection
excites me too
but it’s excitement
like the russians do it
it’s excitement
like japan’s best pilots in 1945
did it
skydiving with a rock attached to my ankle
jumping into the ocean with a parachute
strapped to my face
why now?
why me?
why you
of all people
to break
such a powerful spell?
like some irreverent witch
unbinding something sacred
something virtuous
in tatters
you bless me
with a curse
and curse me
with your blessing
why?
-cole, 10 nov 2025
Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 2:14 PM UTC
{ FREEDOM “We may want to linger, to stay, to arrest the flow and talk about it, photograph it, lyricize it. Yet this beauty is mercurial and we must let it go, for it is already slipping away to be replaced by the new.” -Stuart Sovatsky }
YELLOW FIELD OF WHEAT
Angel of Death skims blacker than tar
a skeletal knock overturning bowl of oats
smelling of frankincense and ashes
to carry you to a yellow field of wheat
where you will dance radiant waltzes
haloed free
your laughter pranced across blue walls with
Michael Jackson, Spider-Man and cheeky elves
relishing Kentucky Fried Chicken as you
played scrabble with forlorn neighbour
your bony body birthing revolutions of
roulette with green life and grey death
how you endured those precision needles
wanting to instead drum tapered fingers on
waiting desk overflowing with car sketches
your thirteen year old bald head smiling
veins on an enchanting spring moon as our
hidden tears crystallised hospital sheets
we tried to keep up with you scoffing
encyclopaedias, Dickens and muffins alike
cancer like a chess game mastered chemo
doctors and nurses becoming kings or pawns
time in the now or endless pathos stalking
Laurel and Hardy keeping our hearts unlocked
on Merlin’s star-patterned couch you will
jokingly converse with Pele and his team
soccer ball silent under quiescent table
my ink cannot pen sad lines as I feel your
lips still ******* for warm dripping milk
your freedom moonwalks on a yellow field of wheat
©GhairoDanielsPoetry2012
Sep 24, 2025
Sep 24, 2025 at 7:00 AM UTC
icy wind, creeping in;
peeking out, pupils dilating.
the freezing cold, killin';
chirping of the birds, dying.
a blurry silhouette
skating around, freely.
playing russian roulette;
any step can break my measly-
and fragile heart.
infatuation to falling in love
I'll never have enough of him.
a love story getting wove
trying my best to get that chance
to creep into his heart
and make him feel what I feel.
Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 9:12 AM UTC
A gamble of will we duel our hearts in an arena,
Tried is the match in which we wager personifications of emotion,
Unknown is the end where we place our bets,
Risking it all on infatuation's roulette,
Entrusting one another amid poker faced facades,
Weary are we who foolishly tread the tables,
Striking a loss tonight we walk separate paths.
Apr 3, 2021
Apr 3, 2021 at 1:09 PM UTC
I believe
deep down
I am a bad person
It just so happens to be
that the mask
I am wearing
has a good face
and seems to be covering up
my true bad self
somewhat well
Yet,
if I don't take care and watch out
it might crack
and
blow my cover
May 7, 2020
May 7, 2020 at 9:33 AM UTC
The older I get
more the reality smothers me
All the pain I've felt
nothing but the curse to stay alive.
Living in a tiresome roulette
Bending every rule that's out there.
Walking away from blind perception everyday
Alone I stand. Alone I stay.
I'll look down where you're all standing
All I see, herd of sheep!
All those lies you let it surround you
burning your lives with what you don't have.
This world rejects me
Or is it the other way around?
I don't believe what this world is about
And then this world threw me the **** away
I'm not the one to fall in line,
but this world's gonna have to pay!
Something inside of me
just screams out loud.
This thing inside of me
don't belong in your crowd.
The older I get
all your ******* lies bother me.
And all that I've felt...
the agony to watch this whole world burn!
I am what you can't see.
I am what you failed to understand.
Someone you hate to see right.
Something you won't believe.
Yet I am your burning desire,
someone important!
And you know
I am the future!
Some what damaged. Some what broken.
Yet a better whole than you!
May 1, 2020
May 1, 2020 at 7:08 AM UTC
Profusely thanking their gods and goddesses
when striking it big
Slinking silently from the table
when losing it all
But ever faithful to their capricious gods
Never ever seeing the ever seeing eye
Or the hidden algorithms
Calculated to lure you again and again
To play and pay for the thrills
That by Chance you're the gods' favoured one.
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 10:02 AM UTC
A kindly
**** in
a lively
part of
the bridge
table that
won her
tiara though
betwixt the
galley was
Donald that
her arch
rival stood
in a
dream with
fortune in
the drawer
Aug 8, 2019
Aug 8, 2019 at 8:40 AM UTC
"Living life like
Russian roulette with an automatic."
You're gonna leave,
I hate you for that,
But I love you for it too.
I'm gonna miss you,
God..I'll miss you so much.
Until then,
And most likely after,
I'll live life
Like I'm spinning a cylinder
With the Reaper.
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 11:18 PM UTC
Luck. Luck treads the line between disaster and survival.
A ball loses momentum on a spinning wheel.
It falls into a pocket.
With one sweep, you’re merely a fool.
Surely, the glory can be regained?
Borrow from those you know. Make a new bet.
Borrow from strangers. Make a new bet.
Make deals with the predators.
Point of no return. You thought they wouldn’t hunt you down?
With one sweep, you’re merely a fool.
We’re all fools here.
This is our lesson of repentance.
We romanced misfortune and she loved us enough to grant us omens of disaster.
With no meaning left in our lives, we are shadows. Shadows that want to survive.
Take the gun. Raise the barrel to the side of your head.
Maybe fortune will pity you.
They say the greatest luck is dying at the right time.
Is this the right hour? Minute? Second?
A ball loses momentum on a spinning wheel.
It falls into a pocket.
Pull the trigger, fool.
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 3:16 AM UTC
I inked my skin with your name,
As you swore you wouldn't play the game,
Russian roulette,
As good as you could get,
But there was someone who was better yet.
Spin the bottle,
Load up the gun,
And tell yourself it's only a bit of fun.
The future can't be real,
If the deal is not sealed,
A debt you will pay,
For playing this game.
Spinning,
Spinning,
Round and round,
It lands on you as you bow your head to the ground.
Pick up the gun,
It's no longer fun,
Death is calling,
You're slowly falling.
Bang,
The shot was perfect,
Right through your skull,
As if It was worth it.
You fell to the floor,
I ran out of the door,
Never to return to our place we called "home".
It wasn't a game of roulette,
It was our series of events,
You killed yourself,
Due to the sadness that you felt.
So this is my spin on things,
I'll pour a glass and admit my sins,
Before I join in,
With your game of Russian roulette.
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 7:34 AM UTC
I inked my skin with your name,
As you swore you wouldn't play the game,
Russian roulette,
As good as you could get,
But there was someone who was better yet.
Spin the bottle,
Load up the gun,
And tell yourself it's only a bit of fun.
The future can't be real,
If the deal is not sealed,
A debt you will pay,
For playing this game.
Spinning,
Spinning,
Round and round,
It lands on you as you bow your head to the ground.
Pick up the gun,
It's no longer fun,
Death is calling,
You're slowly falling.
Bang,
The shot was perfect,
Right through your skull,
As if It was worth it.
You fell to the floor,
I ran out of the door,
Never to return to our place we called "home".
It wasn't a game of roulette,
It was our series of events,
You killed yourself,
Due to the sadness that you felt.
So this is my spin on things,
I'll pour a glass and admit my sins,
Before I join in,
With your game of Russian roulette.
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 3:54 PM UTC
I don't remember passing out
The barkeep nudged me twice
I'd been out at least an hour
My drink, it had no ice
He told me I was finished
He said "Boy, you are done"
"You're playing roulette with a pistol"
"With six bullets, not just one"
"There's a taxi on it's way boy"
I took in every word
But in truth, my head was spinning
What he said, I never heard
Way back in the corner
Sat two vultures watching me
The barkeep saw them watching
And he said "Son, the taxi's free"
"There's a cot just off the kitchen"
"If you'd rather stay inside"
"You won't throw up in the taxi"
"It saves me money for the ride"
I nodded I'd accept it
He told me, "good, I hoped you would"
"The way your night is going"
"It just won't end up good"
"You're burning both ends of the candle"
"You're lighting the middle part as well"
"You may think you're off to heaven"
"Drink like this, you'll end in hell"
He said "out back there is another"
"Fought the bottle, fought it hard"
"He was lost, but came back stronger"
"He's doing well, but he is scarred"
"Tomorrow, you'll eat breakfast"
"Go out back, and talk a bit"
"Now, off to bed directly"
"I need to think a bit, and sit"
I thanked him, though I mumbled
The words were clear inside my head
But, the words that I said to him
Made no sense, so....off to bed
The next morning, over coffee
He told me, "I've watched you every night"
"I've woken you before, you know"
"What you're doing isn't right"
I told him of my troubles
He shook his head, and said "so what"
"We all have troubles sometime"
"We make the best with what we've got"
"You can come here if you want to"
"But, if you drink, I'll cut you off"
"This is your only chance son"
He said the last line, through a cough
He said that after breakfast
After I'd done the washing up
I was to head out to the alley
With fresh coffee, in a cup
He said "out back there"
"You'll find a man with a guitar"
"Give him the fresh coffee"
"He won't come here inside the bar"
I went out in the alley
And there exactly as he said
Sat a man, singing to no one
With a old ball cap on his head
I listened as he sang out
A voice as harsh as glass and sand
Playing guitar in the sunshine
Keeping beat, a one man band
He finished, and he saw me
Smiled as he took the cup
He said, "You don't know me"
"But, I knew you'd look me up"
The Bluesman drank the coffee
Told me to sit and stay a spell
For each minute that I listened
Was one less I was in hell.
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 12:11 AM UTC
A round of musical chairs
But it's actually a game of Russian Roulette
What terrible luck you have!
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 8:24 PM UTC
this game of to and fro
ebb and flow
come and go
yes and no
its driving me to the depths of a sea of confusion
where i drown myself in doubt
blacking out and going towards a light
that appears to be unimaginably beautiful
so much so that i can't even recall it
a reality draped in a shroud of my own creation
a potential happiness that has been empowered
before it has even taken its true form
the empowerment of a blind emotion
much like russian roulette but with a dart in the chamber
which has either come straight from cupid's bow
or its dipped with poison of a familiar cardiotoxicity
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 5:18 PM UTC
it hasn't even happened yet and I feel the weight of your absence pressing on my chest
I've never been one for attachment and now I understand why
because to care too deeply is the emotional equivalent of Russian roulette
but this time they are all filled with bullets
and I seem to be winning this round
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 1:52 AM UTC
There's a click, no noise, followed by
A relief, an awareness.
I sense all, I smell the humidity rise as if it will soon rain.
There is a grace only felt in redemption -
Rebirth.
New life breeds an exciting adventure.
But the next click reveals a deafening noise
The camera's aperture opens fully and the capture light file the opening.
White, life filling, fully encompassing.
True life, new life, everlasting life begins -
Rebirth.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
Little moist drops of heaven
Trickling down my throat
The heavenly burn,
delicious
Synonymous with an Angel's wings
fluttering in my esophagus
Liquid lightning, striking
Almost blasphemous
A devilish game of Russian Roulette
With four shot glasses,
Three rogues and one gent
Emotions getting looser
Clothing getting tighter
The taste becoming
Sweeter
Liquefied demon tears
Playing a wicked game
with my insides
Putting a beautiful curse on my mind
Melted Whiskey Raindrops
Sending shivers down my spine
This hellish war of love, hate and
Intoxication
Has never felt so
Divine
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
When Daniel said
"Russian Roulette"
"Russian Roulette"
Is exactly what Daniel meant
If only somebody had have warned all of us
Sorry
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 11:03 PM UTC