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Stakes don’t alter the interest.
Children play cards with no stakes,
Street-men does with low stake and
Gamblers with high stake. The spirit
With which each group plays is same
06.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gamblers Roll
Gamblers roll
Words by warren haynes
Music by warren haynes and johnny neal
(c) 1990 music corporation of america, inc.,
Buzzard rock music and song pantry music, inc.
Transcribed by b. luckett
The dealer sits alone in the dark
Cigarette shines on his very last card
Everything he had... watched it come and go
On a gamblers roll
Cold wind blows a young girls world apart
She bet it all she bet it all on the jack of hearts
Gained her freedom but lost her soul
On a gamblers roll on a gamblers roll
You know the gambler he rides... rides on a fools train
Ah tradin silver for gold
Oh but his luck will change... time takes its toll
On a gamblers roll
The dealer knows... its just about his last game
Not even she knows all the sorrow and pain
As the forty-five deals the fatal blow
On a gamblers roll...on a gamblers roll
You know the gambler he rides... rides on a fools train
Tradin silver for gold
Ah but his luck will change... time takes its toll
On a gamblers roll... on a gamblers roll
On a gamblers roll... on a gamblers roll
On a gamblers... gamblers roll
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gamblers
Life's a jail where men have common lot.
Gaunt the one who has, and who has not.
All our treasures neither less nor more,
Bread alone comes thro' the guarded door.
Cards are foolish in this jail, I think,
Yet they play for shoes, for drabs and drink.
She, my lawless, sharp-tongued gypsy maid
Will not scorn with me this jail-bird trade,
Pets some fox-eyed boy who turns the trick,
Tho' he win a button or a stick,
Pencil, garter, ribbon, corset-lace —
His the glory, mine is the disgrace.
Sweet, I'd rather lose than win despite
Love of hearty words and maids polite.
"Love's a gamble," say you. I deny.
Love's a gift. I love you till I die.
Gamblers fight like rats. I will not play.
All I ever had I gave away.
All I ever coveted was peace
Such as comes if we have jail release.
Cards are puzzles, tho' the prize be gold,
Cards help not the bread that tastes of mold,
Cards dye not your hair to black more deep,
Cards make not the children cease to weep.
Scorned, I sit with half shut eyes all day —
Watch the cataract of sunshine play
Down the wall, and dance upon the floor.
Sun, come down and break the dungeon door!
Of such gold dust could I make a key, —
Turn the bolt — how soon we would be free!
Over borders we would hurry on
Safe by sunrise farms, and springs of dawn,
Wash our wounds and jail stains there at last,
Azure rivers flowing, flowing past.
God has great estates just past the line,
Green farms for all, and meat and corn and wine.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gambol (a ghazal)
Received and given, preening doves
in courtship sway, they play for love.
Children bouncing balls off walls,
a ricochet they play for love.
Sculptors stories live in folds
of molded clay they play for love.
Gamblers stake to make or break
in rash parley they play for love.
Newlyweds on feather beds
in hideaways, they play for love.
Chiropractors whack the cracks
on vertebrae they play for love.
Glissandi slip from fingertips,
a strummed segue they play for love.
Scrabble rivals settle scores
in worded fray they play for love.
Shady names inflame with games
in sobriquet, they play for love.
Players love and lovers play
I love to play, I play for love.
poem by Diane Hine
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Poker
Away, the jokerss closing in,
Reform and they will win,
The light is fading fast.
I know, you know, they know, we all know,
Everybodys gonna burn down.
The girls come crawling on all fours,
Banging on locked doors,
High cards call the tune.
I know, you know, they know, we all know,
Everybodys gonna burn down.
Play me another hand,
Loose everything I am,
Until we meet again.
The ace, thats hiding up your sleeve,
Will cause the world to grieve,
The love you had is gone,
I know you know, they know, we all know.
The dream, in every players heart,
To win it all not part,
They lie awake at night,
I know, you know, they know, we all know.
The game, where gamblers rule the night,
And get your blood they might,
The jokers closin in,
I know, you know, they know, we all know.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Each player must accept the cards life deals him or her: but once they are in hand, he or she alone must decide how to play the cards in order to win the game.
Rambling, Gambling Willie
Come around you rovin gamblers and a story I will tell
About the greatest gambler, you all should know him well.
His name was will o conley and he gambled all his life,
He had twenty-seven children, yet he never had a wife.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
He gambled in the white house and in the railroad yards,
Wherever there was people, there was willie and his cards.
He had a reputation as the gamblinest man around,
Wives would keep their husbands home when willie came to town.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
Sailin down the mississippi to a town called new orleans,
Theyre still talkin about their card game on that jackson river queen.
Ive come to win some money, gamblin willie says,
When the game finally ended up, the whole damn boat was his.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
Up in the rocky mountains in a town called cripple creek,
There was an all-night poker game, lasted about a week.
Nine hundred miners had laid their money down,
When willie finally left the room, he owned the whole damn town.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
But willie had a heart of gold and this I know is true,
He supported all his children, and all their mothers too.
He wore no rings or fancy things, like other gamblers wore,
He spread his money far and wide, to help the sick and the poor.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
When you played your cards with willie, you never really knew
Whether he was bluffin or whether he was true.
He won a fortune from a man who folded in his chair.
The man, he left a diamond flush, willie didnt even have a pair.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
It was late one evenin during a poker game,
A man lost all his money, he said willie was to blame.
He shot poor willie through the head, which was a tragic fate,
When willies cards fell on the floor, they were aces backed with eights.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
So all you rovin gamblers, wherever you might be,
The moral of this story is very plain to see.
Make your money while you can, before you have to stop,
For when you pull that dead mans hand, your gamblin days are up.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Somebody's game
the way
they play cards
flipping back
forward
our existence
a pack of cards
a queen,
a blackjack,
a spade,
between
the cards
a million
million years
we are tossed
up, down,
down, up
somebody's plan
anxiety to be winners
we live out
in a sea
tossed, thrown,
flipped,
nilly willyly
someone's
gamble
in blood and tears
in between
a bagful of suspense
puzzled
the beginning
the end
is there one?
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I used to collect hockey cards. It was like Vegas at my school. You'd go to school with your box of cards, and at recess and lunchtime there were all these games we'd play.
quote by Steve Nash
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just because Fate doesn't deal you the right cards, it doesn't mean you should give up. It just means you have to play the cards you get to their maximum potential.
Still The Same
Words and music by bob seger
You always won, everytime you placed a bet
Youre still damn good, no ones gotten to you yet
Everytime they were sure they had you caught
You were quicker than they thought
Youd just turn your back and walk
You always said, the cards would never do you wrong
The trick you said was never piay the game too long
A gamblers share, the only risk that you would take
The only loss you could forsake
The only bluff you couldnt fake
And youre still the same
I caught up with you yesterday
Moving game to game
No one standing in your way
Turning on the charm
Long enough to get you by
Youre still the same
You still aim high
There you stood, everybody watched you play
I just turned and walked away
I had nothing left to say
cause youre still the same
Youre still the same
Moving game to game
Some thlngs never change
Youre still the same
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Play
I play some card to hand over
So that the game finishes always.
The cards are fully proper
And nobody lies too much.
I lose a game when it is absurd,
I love the game that I have consulted
With open arms, the arms are long.
I play some cards to finish the game,
It is gaming always on the world,
It is rich how we obey the world.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winner Take All
Written by dennis deyoung, charles lofrando
Lead vocals by james young
Youve got to be strong
If youre going to make it baby
Youve got to stand tall
If youre going to survive
So just take my hand
And Ill show you how to feel alive
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Winner take all
Thats the way I play it
Playing my cards as the world goes by
Winner take all
Thats the way that I get high
You live your own life
Always needing someone baby
Then I appear to answer your call
Together I know
We can ride the highway past them all
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Winner take all
Thats the way I play it
Playing my cards as the world goes by
Winner take all
Thats the way that I get high
High high
Winner take all
Thats the way I play it
Playing my cards as the world goes by
Winner take all
Thats the way that I get high
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Canadian born
We first saw light in Canada, the land beloved of God;
We are the pulse of Canada, its marrow and its blood:
And we, the men of Canada, can face the world and brag
That we were born in Canada beneath the British flag.
Few of us have the blood of kings, few are of courtly birth,
But few are vagabonds or rogues of doubtful name and worth;
And all have one credential that entitles us to brag--
That we were born in Canada beneath the British flag.
We've yet to make our money, we've yet to make our fame,
But we have gold and glory in our clean colonial name;
And every man's a millionaire if only he can brag
That he was born in Canada beneath the British flag.
No title and no coronet is half so proudly worn
As that which we inherited as men Canadian born.
We count no man so noble as the one who makes the brag
That he was born in Canada beneath the British flag.
The Dutch may have their Holland, the Spaniard have his Spain,
The Yankee to the south of us must south of us remain;
For not a man dare lift a hand against the men who brag
That they were born in Canada beneath the British flag.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christmas Lesson 2008
Years ago I opened a special Christmas present.
It was from my uncle, sort of a surprise.
All that was inside was a deck of playing cards.
Maybe he hadn't seen my list or knew my size.
When I thanked him anyway he said,
'Do you knew how to play
Cards for pushups? '
As he smiled in his way.
Cards for pushups?
It can get pretty hard.
You shuffle, turn one over.
Do what's in the card.
Ace, do 15. Face card, do 10.
Others by the numbers count.
Takes a lot of work for two
As the discards start to mount.
It's not like poker.
No bluff to call.
When it's your turn,
You have to do them all.
Who wins doesn't matter,
As I now explain to my grandson,
'The object is just don't quit
Until the deck is done.'
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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The Musician
I don't like to brag,
And I never will.
But I play the guitar,
Like moonshiners play a still.
There really is nothing to it.
I'm just a guitar man.
I was born to play the six string,
And I've got a lot of fans.
You will never know me,
Because I am a lot of men.
Many names are in my pedigree,
A dozen men I've been.
I only play now, for my friends,
And for my family.
There is a sorrow that begins,
Inside my memory.
I have seen death, take my best friend,
I have been thrown in jail.
But I didn't want to let it end,
I did not want to fail.
But I finally threw it all away,
When I had reached the top.
I now live to loath the day,
I had to give it up.
It's just that I love my guitar,
On her I never learned to cheat.
And I never did stray very far,
And she made this guitar man complete.
She is gone now, twas my wrath,
And my son now loves her so.
And he is following my path,
His star is on the go.
10/13/10 vodka360 Alton Texas 9: 21 pm The musician signing off.
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Democrats always like to brag that their guys are smarter than the opponents and Republicans always like to brag that their guys are more moral than the opponents. But if you're looking for morals in politics you're looking for bananas in the cheese department.
quote by Harry Shearer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Birthday Card Greetings!
1)
Some birthday cards are humurous
With jokes that make you smile,
Others are cute, with kittens on,
Or cherubs that beguile.
Some have flowery greetings,
Some, sentimental verse.
Some poke fun at someone's age,
While others - well, they're worse!
But my favourite kind of card is one
That comes straight from the heart.
No wit or soppy message. Just -
Happy birthday, you old f...! ! ! !
2)
Some cards are huge and colourful,
With greetings bright and cheerful.
Others are sweet or touching
And can make you feel quite tearful.
There are funny cards with jokes in,
Enough to make you titter.
Home-made cards, pricey cards
And ones all covered in glitter.
Some can be rather age-ist,
Making fun out of getting old.
While others contain messages
That are worth much more than gold.
Some cards are sentimental,
The rhymes inside quite corny,
But not this one - it simply reads:
Happy Birthday, love from Dawnie
poem by Dawn Ferrett
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To My Friend
we meet again
and we play this game of cards
we talk about something else
some misfortunes
longings
regrets as you shuffle the cards
for another
game today
we drink
not on the same glass
we do not clink
the edges anymore
like the excitements of
past marriages
the kiss
for the bride
that the guests did ask
the throwing of the bouquet
the biting of the garter
the slicing of the
cake
& the dance and the
merrymaking of the night
till morning
my friend, i have laid all my cards
on the table
no aces, no kings
just the numbers
and i will be losing to you again
but it does not matter
what matters most
is this meeting
of our present
and future
your hands your smile
the comfort of a second home
a life extended for another turn
a hum
a whistle a brush of friendship
that must last
for my lifetime
thank you very much.
poem by Antonio Liao
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Zero Cards, All In
The casino aimed
For maimed heaven
And all the disciples
Clambered the atrium
Pawning breaths,
Capitulating the continents
Sealed in the impassable
Urns of these gamblers.
I took rancor slugs
As the jazz music
Wander to console
Or divert my perdition
Feigning a shattered wry
Of a harlequin smile
Girdling back the pearls
And the sharp crystals
As the daggers veer
Swiftly as the roulette
And the grinning grimace
Of the daunted heads.
My fingers stifled
And macadamized
Sternly cliff-hanging
Into an abject house
Of defeated cards,
And saliently deteriorating
With the buckling of cold
Streaming down rivulets
In my temples
And cradling a basin
In a more vulnerable place.
All in, my last card
And I trampled
Waging back,
Lightning-pace
Gone.
In the crunch
Of the rifted bones
Is a greater maelstrom
Of lambasted rapine
Yet I hold on to
These empty cards
And still risking the gamble
All in.
The heart.
The valiancy.
The dying days.
The prolonged torment.
The quintessence of gambling.
poem by Norman Santos
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