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"spades" poems
Thank you ~ for a life not to trade blessings, in spades tight spaces behind laundry doors packed closets and open drawers gator tails, tarnished brass cracks in kitchen sliding glass wet towels, withering plants foundation filled with carpenter ants buckets piled with shoes and tags village clothes and saddlebags peeling paint and broken walls ****** seats in bathroom stalls clogged pantry frigid rooms table scribe and carbon fumes comfort capsules empty tanks broken limbs from children’s pranks **** finger double tongue long goodbyes and sidewalk dung cluster flies chavie’ clique accompanying the hypocrite cracked back and hidden smiles chalk on board with mr miles atomic wedgies closing doors wrotten eggs and open sores jaw jack nasty folk dinner calls for pig in poke penny pinchers double dip yellow mouth and silver tip brown nosers thick red tape paper cuts and pimple nape gallivants so out of norm the joy of life… in basic form
0
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
cultivation of gratitude
Season of sun and sand and sea, Holiday time for you and me. Daylight right ‘til ten o’clock, Don’t forget to wear sun-block. Sitting idly reading Keats, Watching kids with buckets and spades; Sparrows with their frantic tweets, Flying high above the glades. Oh it’s great to be so free, No more snow or ice for me. Even mugginess is okay, So long as it’s warm throughout the day. Swimming in that so cool pool, Sure beats sweating back in school. Summer is my favourite month, Whoops my rhyme-scheme just went Whoomph! Nothing rhymes with month you know, But let’s forget about that snow. Let’s laze instead on lawn or beach, And keep a beer within our reach. Paul Butters
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Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 9:29 AM UTC
Ode to Summer
look how far we have come, just imagine where we will go. Your imagination, is my destination, so sit back and enjoy the show. I might not be as talented with as my counterparts- i rather take my time mastering your parts. crossing your lines, exploring your arts. You can take it anyway you like, just let me take over when we get to my favorite part. I've been turning you on from the start, its only right I get you off. lips so soft, my scent doesn't wash off. Making sick love,send you home with a cough. I tried to rank you, but your off the charts. If this was a game, I'd be the King of spades and you would be the black queen of hearts. My favorite part of this, is playing are parts. I dont know, there is still alot to learn. I hate to see you go, but love taking turns watching you *** and go. writing you these words, i hope the follow you to sleep.Getting wrapped up in my words like I were your sheets. I am not trying to come at you the wrong way- but you've been on my mind all day. Putting you in all the right positions, my edition of feng shui. Take a mental picture and keep it stored away so when I finally see you, I can do things the right way. If it was up to me, you wouldn't know the difference between night and day. Close the blinds, lock the door, unplug the phone, and lets play; you do, everything, I say.
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:09 PM UTC
Mind Evalution
And in this courtroom So filled with Four Nations The Sun held her head up high, Lighting the way for their tales and psalms: I am the King of Spades. Righteous ambition is my goal. The bravery of the Spades is made known to others Only through such matters. Perseverance is our path to Victory Endurance, our greatest desire. We, the Spades, partner with Father Time To belong as a mighty people Forever more. I am the Queen of Diamonds The splendor and enjoyment of Life's beauty is my passion. A Diamond's journey is a one of glorious awe That no one can compare. Loveliness surrounds this pretty people And the Artist shall forever be pleased by them. Our perception of artistry leaves most in awe And this fact is forever the passion we strive for. I am the Queen of Clovers Survival is the sole lifestyle of the Clovers In this wretched and unforgiving world The Clovers must stay strong Holding the clubs of the ancients, We prevail Onward shall we extend our power The Clovers will remain Forever the mightiest. I am the King of Hearts. The rapid spread of emotional ties Is what us Hearts long for. Threads of fate surround our people Binding them to one another. Love, lust, infatuation Oh, these are the things that steady our nation! So filled with Faith, Hope and Love Our Hearts shan't fail us As passion will never cease To flow in our veins —ah, yes! This is the way of the Hearts. And in this courtroom So filled with Four Nations The Sun laid down her head Whilst the Moon finally awoke and, Smiled his light onto them below.
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Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 6:42 PM UTC
Lilies, Irises, Tulips, Roses; All In My Garden
And in this courtroom So filled with Four Nations The Sun held her head up high, Lighting the way for their tales and psalms: I am the King of Spades. Righteous ambition is my goal. The bravery of the Spades is made known to others Only through such matters. Perseverance is our path to Victory Endurance, our greatest desire. We, the Spades, partner with Father Time To belong as a mighty people Forever more. I am the Queen of Diamonds The splendor and enjoyment of Life's beauty is my passion. A Diamond's journey is a one of glorious awe That no one can compare. Loveliness surrounds this pretty people And the Artist shall forever be pleased by them. Our perception of artistry leaves most in awe And this fact is forever the passion we strive for. I am the Queen of Clovers Survival is the sole lifestyle of the Clovers In this wretched and unforgiving world The Clovers must stay strong Holding the clubs of the ancients, We prevail Onward shall we extend our power The Clovers will remain Forever the mightiest. I am the King of Hearts. The rapid spread of emotional ties Is what us Hearts long for. Threads of fate surround our people Binding them to one another. Love, lust, infatuation Oh, these are the things that steady our nation! So filled with Faith, Hope and Love Our Hearts shan't fail us As passion will never cease To flow in our veins —ah, yes! This is the way of the Hearts. And in this courtroom So filled with Four Nations The Sun laid down her head Whilst the Moon finally awoke and, Smiled his light onto them below.
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48
Infinitely and often nightly but very quietly I creep into the garden shed and make a bed among the flower pots where those dainty blooms with purple spots spot me and open up their eyes to see who sits among the rakes and spades and somewhere in those dappled glades my eyes will rest upon a cur-ved apparition and entirely of an auto responsive suggestion I will greet her with a midnight smile taped on my lips and when my heart has done its forty skips and my body settles down I invite her to come a little close and sit beside me by the oak tree she smiles in a light to brighten any night and any day I know would be proud to say go with the moment it is yours to own but on my own trapped in a shady place I face the fact that this place in the garden shed is only pictures in my head and I retreat beat it back indoors where the thunderous snores of all my many days come back to haze me in some juvenilish way it's the way of it it is the way and I have bitten off more than a piece or two and flown too close to sit upon the heat of the sun burned my bridges burned my *** and never learnt to hold my tongue but it is the way and one day the way will become oh so clear the potting shed that's in my head will disappear and in its place the face I look to meet will greet me deferentially I shall shape my tongue to fit around the words I want to say It is and always has been this way.
0
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 5:00 PM UTC
Skiing Holidays
a)  i am the mortar incurring blow after blow      from the abrasive quality of your negligence.       no, i am herb between pestle and mortar       the full realization of 'rock and a hard place' b)  i am the mortar between each brick you lay,      in blue collar glory, or rock star slumming,      to bind shaky corridors of past serenity      and bear indiscretions on my limestone shoulders c)  i am the mortar you fire before crawling under covers      for inexpensive *** and trashier beer      by a lake on a camping trip where tents trump love      like the queen of spades in a hand of hearts        d)  in fact, these are false, merely possibilities --      actuality: you were never enough       to make me spew homonyms in metaphor       because you were nothing like them,       always appearing changed but monotonous in meaning,       and if you're so into contraposition,       are we not but names for each other?
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Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 3:28 AM UTC
the final will not be multiple choice
All I do is win, for I'm an Ace Painting a bulls-eye on everyone in the place In my plane I leave everyone else bailing out of the fight in disgrace If I was a horseman, I'd be War 'Cuz like the card game I win against Kings and Queens and take them out of the deck like the Joker on the sidelines, alone and bored. I don't need a Diamond to win you Heart, and I don't wanna join your Club, this was skill and not luck from the very start I am the Ace of Spades, and I'll use my ***** to dig out your graves I've been painted on the sides of planes cars and trains helicopters, submarines, and the munitions that deal out the pain I'm a trick shot Ace with the pool stick As a quarterback, I've yet to throw a pick As a pitcher, I make the other team sick The starter and the backup plan the Ultimate Ace in the Hole The best card in a poker hand lay me down and the money's in the bag I run solo, streaking across the land You only need to hold me in your hand and your enemies will become **** and I'll give 'em a taste of this whirling dervish's mace Leave them breathless upon the ground as I rob the air from out of this place you'll stand in awe of my greatness take a picture, make a statue Fill up every empty space with my name For I am an Ace!
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Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 2:39 AM UTC
Ace of Spades
The Aces check their sleeves, Hearts rippling across the breeze. The Queen arises Slowly, Torn dress ripped at the knees. The Jack saw his fill And quickly took his leave. Stood trembling in a doorway, Mind struggling to believe... The King was an alcoholic, It was widely known to be so, Each eve he would sit solemn, Wine in hand and sword on show, Clapping to the Jokers' japes As he danced and sang About love and fate. But how was the King to know? Not two rooms away His wife had lain, With a smile and a ***** Creating a cuckold and a fool... The Jack had had enough And promptly marched To the throne room. Armed with only knowledge, Unleashes inevitable typhoon. The winds will rise, This house shall succumb, Imploding inwards Till the house is done. And all that remains Among ash and decay, Broken hearts and broken spades, Is the Jokers last laugh. A mockingbirds call as daylight fades.
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May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
House of Cards
“Congratulations You managed being five feet above the ground” Said a man who Can’t contain a slight, sardonic sound The situation: He’s reading eating magazines from the coast of Spain And yelling himself blue For the jeepney won’t hurry in the pouring rain He smashed his head on the glass Wishing for a train It nearly cracked / but his New cadence sounded quite sane “Congratulations You took five before you smoked the first one down” Said a man who Complimented me for sinking above the ground “It’s estimation I might trip before a wheel enters our lane” I yelled the truth At this moment, his presence started to stain A boat that had already passed us Yelled, “All aboard!” We weren’t sure it would float But it had a great deal of cords Then we clambered on There was a myriad of golden spades Two for every buried fool That was forced to stay The stench was concealed By the satisfied old man A woman muttered That she was headed to Queensland A driver viciously flung his arms Into the air, in apt alarm The intersection’s volley Aimed for the starboard Everyone reached for the mast, Hoping to soar “Congratulations You nodded off before the lights started to blare” Said a man who Lied, ostentatiously impaired I’m at the station Then, I noticed to my side was a golden ***** I dug myself through The mahogany and got on with my day In the rain
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Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 2:34 PM UTC
Mahogany Mill St.
A star of blood you fell from the point of the hypodermic singing of fabulous beasts & spitting out the *** of vowels Your poems explode in the mouth like torrents of ***** on a night full of zebras & bootheels Your ghost still cruses the river- fronts of midnight assignations in a world of dead sailors carrying armfuls of flowers in search of your unmarked grave Your body no sanctuary for bees, Death was your lover in a rain of broken obelisks & rotting orchids In the tangled rose of a single heartbeat I offer you the shadow of a double profile, two heads held together at the bridge of the nose by a nail of ***** smoke in the long night's dreaming & memory of water poured between glasses In my mailbox I find a letter from a dead man & know that for every shadow given one is taken away Yet subtraction is only a special form of addition and implies a world of hidden intentions below a horizon of lips thin as your fingernail sprouting mysteries in the earth … The ace of spades dealt from the bottom of the deck severs the hand which retrieves it & the eyes of Beauty sewn together peer over a black lace fan in the ****** sunlight of a Spanish morning without horses The Belt of Orion is loosened before you as you remove the silver fingerstalls from your mummy hands & kneel to plunder the nightsky in a shower of bitter diamonds. (Somewhere under a blanket someone weeps for a lover.) Peace to your soul & to your empty shoes in the dark closets of kings with no feet!!!
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Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 4:06 PM UTC
An Act of Jeopardy for Garcia Lorca by Ira Cohen
A star of blood you fell from the point of the hypodermic singing of fabulous beasts & spitting out the *** of vowels Your poems explode in the mouth like torrents of ***** on a night full of zebras & bootheels Your ghost still cruses the river- fronts of midnight assignations in a world of dead sailors carrying armfuls of flowers in search of your unmarked grave Your body no sanctuary for bees, Death was your lover in a rain of broken obelisks & rotting orchids In the tangled rose of a single heartbeat I offer you the shadow of a double profile, two heads held together at the bridge of the nose by a nail of ***** smoke in the long night's dreaming & memory of water poured between glasses In my mailbox I find a letter from a dead man & know that for every shadow given one is taken away Yet subtraction is only a special form of addition and implies a world of hidden intentions below a horizon of lips thin as your fingernail sprouting mysteries in the earth … The ace of spades dealt from the bottom of the deck severs the hand which retrieves it & the eyes of Beauty sewn together peer over a black lace fan in the ****** sunlight of a Spanish morning without horses The Belt of Orion is loosened before you as you remove the silver fingerstalls from your mummy hands & kneel to plunder the nightsky in a shower of bitter diamonds. (Somewhere under a blanket someone weeps for a lover.) Peace to your soul & to your empty shoes in the dark closets of kings with no feet!!!
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50
He was lean, his aesthetic back stretches Into neat trunks tied at the waist with cord Sand sprinkled dipping in the circular pool Where the shells and seaweed floated about Like newly washed hair his shade of brown. And this is how I remember him next to me With our spades and colourful beach towels Our clothes draped across rocks in the sun And those plastic sandels with the salty buckles Cutting into our fleet especially when new. We were not very affectionate but occasionally Romped the floors in our nightclothes at bed Dragging the eiderdowns, downwards in disarray And taking a length of string between bedrooms So that we could keep connected by a joining tug. This was childhood at its most fierce and beautiful Before adolescence set its patterns on our forms Marked us out for education and dress codes Until then we were still securely latched in time Asking each other, now and then, for piggy backs. Love Mary for her brother ,Richard.
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Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 6:59 PM UTC
Before the patterns set in.
His money isn't free. On the first date, He picked you up in a Phantom which haunted your inner gold-digger Digging to harvest stardom, but His money isn't free. He's wearing a Rolex You're wearing a Swatch wrist Hoping to switch wrists. It's much too sad that His money isn't free. He's harvested his cotton And you're ready to rob him But his ex keeps calling Little Miss Lee Kaching! She can sense your scheming; she screams through the speakerphone, "His money isn't free!" Now he's seen your blades, your spades, your grenades hidden in the dark of your shade. He's grabbing those keys Leaving his seat saying, "My money isn't free!" Now you're left alone With your flip phone, Not even an iPhone. And the waiter comes by, Drops the bill and says, "This meal isn't free."
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Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
His Money isn't Free (A Slam Poem)
I have it in spades But it comes in waves, In the climb, I know I'm worth it, On the precipice, it feels so clear, In the curl, I'm tested, It's in the break that I get lost, And just as it pulls me in, I ride upon the backs of the strong women who surround me, Holding me accountable, Exposing the humanity that grounds me, Resolve is a funny thing, I have it in spades, But it comes in waves.
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Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
Resolve is a funny thing
we are sacred and scared just the same as ever the passion and the rage never seems to dissipate what shades and shadows shape our souls the hourglass flowers towards never-ending spirals humans are blessed with their own fragile memories like spades and sparrows they dig holes and make nests in the sand though we have escaped the trails and trellises of our transmutations on trade-winds we still must sail to reach our destinations
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Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
the lilikoi
You say you have a royal flush. & I'm ice-screaming bluff. Uhh ******** You may be the Drag/Queen of Spades. But I'm carrying the ace of clubs. In my pants pocket. rofllololol You're just a joker. Joke's on you. I'm the king of <3's. <3 <3 <3 <3 Guess who owns yours?
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May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 5:15 PM UTC
The Drag Queen Of Spades & The King Of
Some of us have twins, most of us have split personalities. Have you met Bandit yet? Our lives aren't measured in years, they're measured in our victories. So take your blades and spill some blood. It's a dog eat dog world. If you play The King Of Hearts, every hand in life it will only get you, cut, burned and thrown to the curb. Used, depleted, robed of every thing you can lose. It's **** without ******* & I'm done, like a cashed bowl. This hand I'm playing The Ace Of Spades. Revenge stings like a bee and like you said I have anger issues. I'm drawing again. I'm learning a new technique. Sketching you out, **** off. **** off. :)
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Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 3:31 AM UTC
February
Im tired of all the lies I hide behind, so Im Breaking the ties to the past Long lasting present because the past is the past not a cage, and it also isn't a theatre So this exsistance shouldn't be staged, cause this **** ain't funny like Bellamy, You might think I've gone mad because I'm not listening to what you're tellin' me not to, but I got to, in order to survive, because the self inflincted wounds are healing and hardening,  I'm searching for a deeper punishment, making life more enjoyable, laid back and not so tense, you won't have to worry about what trouble I might be in next, and you won't have to be burdened with disappointment when I fail your tests. So I'll play this life like a game of spades, by the time this game is over, my stomach will be corroded with rage but I'll  keep a pokerface, hidden behind stoner charm, a smile, a handsome face & tinted shades, I know you're clearly blind to my bluffing, and I know you see me today, but my eyes are set on the worries of tomarrow and my mind is still wincing from yesterdays sarrow I'm alive but I'm dying inside because the guilt and shame are smothering me, not to mention I'm choking on regret, Don't fret, because my face isn't turnin' blue, and my pulse isn't speeding up, but my wrists are scarred, but not ****** and please don't worry because this won't happen agian, not making any promises, Lord please forgive me for I know that I have sinned, I just needed some proof to remind me where I've been....
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Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 4:33 PM UTC
Conversation With my Reflection
Im tired of all the lies I hide behind, so Im Breaking the ties to the past Long lasting present because the past is the past not a cage, and it also isn't a theatre So this exsistance shouldn't be staged, cause this **** ain't funny like Bellamy, You might think I've gone mad because I'm not listening to what you're tellin' me not to, but I got to, in order to survive, because the self inflincted wounds are healing and hardening,  I'm searching for a deeper punishment, making life more enjoyable, laid back and not so tense, you won't have to worry about what trouble I might be in next, and you won't have to be burdened with disappointment when I fail your tests. So I'll play this life like a game of spades, by the time this game is over, my stomach will be corroded with rage but I'll  keep a pokerface, hidden behind stoner charm, a smile, a handsome face & tinted shades, I know you're clearly blind to my bluffing, and I know you see me today, but my eyes are set on the worries of tomarrow and my mind is still wincing from yesterdays sarrow I'm alive but I'm dying inside because the guilt and shame are smothering me, not to mention I'm choking on regret, Don't fret, because my face isn't turnin' blue, and my pulse isn't speeding up, but my wrists are scarred, but not ****** and please don't worry because this won't happen agian, not making any promises, Lord please forgive me for I know that I have sinned, I just needed some proof to remind me where I've been....
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27
They warned us not to worry, Just do our best in school; Those worldly professionals, Taught us work-to-rule. They did a few case studies On twins from day of birth; There's a fifty-fifty chance, A will be born first They are urban fighters, Of fire, crime and blame; They live in high rise condos, They return from foreign lands. They  wait over subway vents, Their hearts and heads are bent; They show-up in walk-ons, They go without for Lent. They fly in and out of space, They don't identify with race; They're picked up for vagrancy, They dance cautiously in the street. They volley warning shots Across our private dreams; They sign and seal a peace accord They're sincere to a degree. They contribute to the run-off, And spiked our holy water; They enlisted Moms and Dads, Then slaughtered sons and daughters. They made rings from ivory, And pale lamp shades from skin; They list dissipation As a personal sin. Then they did unholy things With wood and nails, then atoms; They tore at our goodly earth, Wreaked havoc with their mapping. They distilled our alcohol, Made smoking so appealing; Then they rang the tower bells, And preached we had no feelings. They dug deep for wishing wells, Grew stuff to **** our germs; They bestowed us rods and reels, And spades to dig our worms. They connected us Through wireless touch; They counseled us on loneliness, And the traps of busyness. They pronounce death is art When they hang it on a wall; Then blame it on our women, In a scene based on our fall. They're newsy opaque, In love or hate; They are the ambiguous, The they, them and all of us.
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Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 10:31 AM UTC
The Ambiguous
They warned us not to worry, Just do our best in school; Those worldly professionals, Taught us work-to-rule. They did a few case studies On twins from day of birth; There's a fifty-fifty chance, A will be born first They are urban fighters, Of fire, crime and blame; They live in high rise condos, They return from foreign lands. They  wait over subway vents, Their hearts and heads are bent; They show-up in walk-ons, They go without for Lent. They fly in and out of space, They don't identify with race; They're picked up for vagrancy, They dance cautiously in the street. They volley warning shots Across our private dreams; They sign and seal a peace accord They're sincere to a degree. They contribute to the run-off, And spiked our holy water; They enlisted Moms and Dads, Then slaughtered sons and daughters. They made rings from ivory, And pale lamp shades from skin; They list dissipation As a personal sin. Then they did unholy things With wood and nails, then atoms; They tore at our goodly earth, Wreaked havoc with their mapping. They distilled our alcohol, Made smoking so appealing; Then they rang the tower bells, And preached we had no feelings. They dug deep for wishing wells, Grew stuff to **** our germs; They bestowed us rods and reels, And spades to dig our worms. They connected us Through wireless touch; They counseled us on loneliness, And the traps of busyness. They pronounce death is art When they hang it on a wall; Then blame it on our women, In a scene based on our fall. They're newsy opaque, In love or hate; They are the ambiguous, The they, them and all of us.
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56
My words have just been ramblin', I left the rhyming state of mind. The ace of spades is gamblin', but the rabbit's now on time. Elevator going down, catching buses to the sound. How do I know that I am late? Time exists in spite of fate. We're racing, now, against the clock in circles, 'round the spokes. I've forgotten how the ticking tocks, for the gears have been long broke. Darlin', won't you take my hand? They're try'na pull you under and together we can leave this land, but you must know just where you stand. - This shortcut leads to trouble, but you'll get there on the double. Bad ideas, I've had a couple; my shattered thoughts within the rubble. Broken fragments of my mind, my fate's aligning just in time. To the past, I'm disinclined; looking down an uphill climb. - You're sending me a message about the faithfulness of love; the white rabbit left me breathless, I still don't know what you speak of. "I chose you, please choose me, too?" I'm running, but I don't know what to. I've fallen down the rabbit's hole, into a world without console.
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Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 6:02 PM UTC
Hatter's Hare
We sat on a table Drew cards and called You got a pair of Aces I got 7, Queen of spades I guess with my hand I'm a lucky girl you have Little did I know You got bullets on my back That's what you get For the risk of a bet And that's what I regret That I took you for granted
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Feb 22, 2022
Feb 22, 2022 at 8:03 PM UTC
Poker
1 The chards rising. Am I the praying bird? In the gleaming sun my bones are negative, My flesh a cypher walking through the plains As ghost I move, my dark lord, above me Flocks swirl and spike. I stand accused, Your pointed face divining oblivion, And no redemption in the rains of my Cliff walk days. 2 I see my shroud pinning on the wires His legs are razored forks spinning my Compass from True North. Your dark brush- Fire wings, the swept wind, wheels and strings My fate. Such black rhetoric in a burn, Your caws, loosed perches, on the stakes, picks My crowning grave. Black dove, your feathers finger As they slice. 3 Smoke, the cardinal blood caries my teething Bone, spades my hand without a flight. Taut, the pulled noose my hooded one I see my scarecrow’s reflexion, the scar, Let blood, the seeded droppings end trailed To my door. Feathers, ferry to carry on Dowsing downward, black knight of down, to sticks On extended wings.
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Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 8:38 PM UTC
Raven Caws
At top of the hill A fragrant hill Stands the blue windmill. It has bricks of gold from the Cotswolds. It stands lonely, cold and still. No wind to blow here anymore. Blood sweat and many tears once lined the dusty, white floor. Now ivy of green hugs the door. No stones turn no fire burns grounding flour to make a pound. Every hour, each second counted. Hands of the brave that made a mark to engrave their time on the hill where now time stands still. A Raven who calls to the midnight air His wings as blue as the blades His body as deep as the ace of spades. As old as this story has been told new hope is about to unfold. The Raven is about to learn as once more the blue blades turn Through the yellow window a farmer's wife begins her new life. Her golden apron, her new dreams the sparkle in her blue eyes whips up a wind like never before. The generator stirs, the life uncurls like tail from a happy cat. Except this is tale that is about to begin.
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Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 5:11 AM UTC
The Blue Windmill
Humanity is isolated Humanity is blind these days Humanity depends on stories Humanity got news in spades Humanity is lost with questions Humanity in search for fate Humanity is needing answers Humanity is really scared Humanity is scarred forever Humanity time to embrace Humanity will come out stronger Humanity had this before
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Mar 23, 2020
Mar 23, 2020 at 10:56 PM UTC
Humanity
I build a house of cards with the deck of hearts and present it to you. And upon seeing all my full, red expressions of affection, you shuffle and deal out my imperfections until one by one, my house falls down. Your diamonds aren't as illuminous as they were after your first sip, you say. So all your glitter isn't really gold, you say while shifting my diamond to a rhombus never to turn it right side up again. Your clubs beat me over the head and cause my brain to swell with a smooth aftertaste as you see through my lack of a poker face. Breaking through my walls and exposing my weak points. Flooding over my defenses and ensnaring me in a trap weaved only by the highest proof and I know you have won. Because my ace of spades has been found. Trickling your jokers over the rocks to my hearts, they climb over the rubble that has been laid at the ground, the foundation, the base. And your clubs tear it up! And the jokers, you! race to the top of the south and with your strongest clubs, break into my ace of spades! Pinning it to the ground and forcing it to turn around and flee! And I can hear it! I hear it calling for me... to help us get away but my hearts are dull and my shifting rhombi are ablaze.   For this infinite moment in time is dazzling and my own eyes aren't aligned to light the way to free me. Gleaming rays of the sheen from your diamonds slice through my illusions and wake me up to the aroma of fresh debris. My hearts, toppled.  My diamonds, demolished. My clubs, sleeping and my ace of spades, removed. And the sky never changes. The moon ripples in the puddle left behind by the design of your jokers and spades and your hearts remain untouched.  Your spades are buried behind walls of black and your diamonds are so far back that I couldn't tell if they were even there at all. My deck of 52 is now a deck of 51 and without a solid set, I'll never have the chance to play this "game" again.
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Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 2:46 AM UTC
Poker Face
I build a house of cards with the deck of hearts and present it to you. And upon seeing all my full, red expressions of affection, you shuffle and deal out my imperfections until one by one, my house falls down. Your diamonds aren't as illuminous as they were after your first sip, you say. So all your glitter isn't really gold, you say while shifting my diamond to a rhombus never to turn it right side up again. Your clubs beat me over the head and cause my brain to swell with a smooth aftertaste as you see through my lack of a poker face. Breaking through my walls and exposing my weak points. Flooding over my defenses and ensnaring me in a trap weaved only by the highest proof and I know you have won. Because my ace of spades has been found. Trickling your jokers over the rocks to my hearts, they climb over the rubble that has been laid at the ground, the foundation, the base. And your clubs tear it up! And the jokers, you! race to the top of the south and with your strongest clubs, break into my ace of spades! Pinning it to the ground and forcing it to turn around and flee! And I can hear it! I hear it calling for me... to help us get away but my hearts are dull and my shifting rhombi are ablaze.   For this infinite moment in time is dazzling and my own eyes aren't aligned to light the way to free me. Gleaming rays of the sheen from your diamonds slice through my illusions and wake me up to the aroma of fresh debris. My hearts, toppled.  My diamonds, demolished. My clubs, sleeping and my ace of spades, removed. And the sky never changes. The moon ripples in the puddle left behind by the design of your jokers and spades and your hearts remain untouched.  Your spades are buried behind walls of black and your diamonds are so far back that I couldn't tell if they were even there at all. My deck of 52 is now a deck of 51 and without a solid set, I'll never have the chance to play this "game" again.
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The Ace of Spades Queen of Hearts Deuce of Diamonds It's just the start Can't turn the corner Can't double down Out of money No bank around I need that card Need it like a drug But odds are against me It doesn't look good I outran them all But they got me again Tried to talk my way out But I tried in vain No way to get out Stuck in this spot Left me with cards Said play until I rot The Ace of Spades Queen of Hearts I played my cards wrong And they tore me apart
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Jul 15, 2010
Jul 15, 2010 at 3:07 AM UTC
Gambling Man's Fate