Deck Of Cards
a deck of cards
missing the Jack of Hearts....
a revolver on the table,
one chamber empty...
an old family Bible,
the inscription page torn out...
a broken pane in the window
that the sun never hits.
a bottle of whiskey,
half empty, or half full.
an old rug by the chair,
that the dog slept on.
a grandfather clock,
hand stuck at midnight...
an old truck, broken axle....
a deck of cards...
your deal!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Related quotes
One of these days in your travels, a guy is going to come up to you and show you a nice brand-new deck of cards on which the seal is not yet broken, and this guy is going to offer to bet you that he can make the Jack of Spades jump out of the deck and squirt cider in your ear. But, son, do not bet this man, for as sure as you are standing there, you are going to end up with an earful of cider.
quote by Damon Runyon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fallen, Empty, And Broken
fallen soldier
fallen sky
fallen angel
from on high
fallen heartache
fallen soul
fallen man
losing control
empty bed
empty arms
empty dreams
empty heart
empty wallet
empty hands
cant take nothin'
from an empty man
broken promises
broken vows
broken spirit
wont allow
broken fences
broken lives
broken tomorrows
broken nights
fallen, empty, and broken
every road is the same
bent, bruised, and shaken
still numb from the pain
now you dont answer
when i call out your name
fallen, empty, and broken
walking in the rain...
fallen, empty, and broken...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Broken Glass
broken glass,
autumn chill,
the spoon tarnished...
with time.
an old lid turned up,
half filled, half empty,
wearing a spider's web,
and time earned rust.
a dog barks, a truck
goes by....
an old mattress
on the bed...
a baby's born
in a rundown trailer,
an old woman dies
alone in her chair.
life turns, the hands
of the clock sharp....
cut the fingers
at the touch....
the untamed heart,
on the unknown path,
fallen leaves left
by the door!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Broken Dreams
I don’t see a long road ahead of me
And my coffee cup, instead of been half full
It’s always half empty
I got no home
I’m on the streets
An in the cold lonely morning
I’m awaken by somebodys cries an screams
All I’ve got left is my broken dreams
My past's erased from my memory
Anyone I knew before
Never cared enough to contact me
I’ve lost my friends
I’ve lost my family
My life’s falling apart
It’s coming loose at the seems
All I’ve got left is my broken dreams
The dreams I used to dream
When I was a kid
Never left my heart
But I never did them, I never lived
So now I cry into my glass
To try an make it full
I’m crying lost rivers an lost streams
All I’ve got left is my broken dreams
poem by Lucy Vernezze
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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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Big Boy Now
Ive been searching / not the first or the last
Trying to figure out the mystery of the half empty glass
Time is turning for the rest of the world
While a temporary leap of faith helps the story unfurl
They say that hearts dont stay broken
Even though the scars remain
And eyes dont stay swollen
Even if it feels that way
Chorus
But its not that serious / Im a big boy now
And Im not delirious / so dont show me how
Cause Ive gotten beyond the agony
And my perspective is saving me
Never doubted what the cards would reveal
And if the joker showed his ugly face
Not that big of a deal
Its just a moment in the scheme of it all
But its difficult to visualize when the axe starts to fall
But then a heart wont stay broken
Even on its darkest day
The right door could open
Pick you up and drift away
(repeat chorus)
With all the confusion
How does anybody come through
But life is illusion
And no one can tell you what youve gotta do
You know a heart wont stay broken
Even on its darkest day
The right door could open
Pick you up and drift away
(repeat chorus)
song performed by by Richard Marx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunset Heighting Aire
Barley sixteen and half unseen,
Who in battle engaged and never gave up,
When a sunset heights the air,
Tree's swaying, standing bare,
Like in that there,
Place of feelings where-
A sunset heights the are
Half empty filling up the day,
Empty empty full of rays,
A sunset heights the air,
The menacing mighty wind where,
This there place of feelings was,
Half empty, half full.
poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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The Lover And The Gamber
She sat on a bar stool,
her long legs dangling there,
drinking a coloured mix,
they called The Country Fair.
He sat at a table,
deck of cards in his hand,
laying them down for a game of solitaire,
the lover and the gambler.
For a brief few seconds,
as they looked around,
their eyes met in sweet seduction,
in that smoky bar downtown.
As the evening wore,
and customers began to leave,
it just left the two of them there,
the lover and the gambler.
Now if he played his cards,
close to his chest,
maybe with a bit of luck,
love would do the rest.
They looked again,
with a long lingering look.
She joined him at the table,
watched the hand that he dealt.
Each card was a heart;
cupid caught them both that night.
For now the lover and the gambler,
are now man and wife.
poem by David Harris
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My Choice
There's a cup half full
and one half empty.
From which one shall I drink?
I will always drink
from the one half full
for I'm an optimist.
Iwill not drink
from a cup half empty
for then I will persist
with a fear of losing
and never having enough.
So set 2 cups before me
My decision isn't tough.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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We Just Come Here And Go - Original By Rabindranath Tagore
We just come here and go
And go with the time's flow!
We only see things
And touch while going
And look back crying!
Only new bleak hopes
Take our life forward!
We can see false hopes
If we look backward!
Broken strength carries endless desires
Both bright and dark
So broken output is obtained from
Do or die work!
We sail our broken boat in the sea with goods!
Our broken language can't express all moods!
Half acquaintance in our hearts!
Our half sentence needs more words!
In shame and fear our faith is half
So we offer only half love!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Playing with cards
The Joker was wild,
uninhibited and out of control.
He hit the deck, out did the Queen of Hearts
and all her tribe
confusing her husband the King
and kicked the Ace into touch.
The King of Spades saw him coming,
rounded up the troops, the Jack and
all the men from 2 to 10,
leaving the Ace until last
in case of something.
The Joker just smiled,
hitched up with the Queen of Clubs,
went along for the ride
to find the Diamonds and then,
threw all the cards on the table,
leading the whole pack awry
until the last man was trumped.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Twenty Questions (feat. Miho Hatori)
Is the cup half empty, or is the cup half full?
Does the sun rise at dawn, or does the earth just spin along?
Or is it all perspective on how we see the world?
How many countless life forms are on a little ball that twirls?
Are we intrinsically separate beings?
Or could we possibly be parts of the same thing?
Water feeds the plants and the sunshine makes them grow,
So how can anyone be an island on their own?
Does life make me happy, or does it bring me down?
Do I have what I need, or do I just want what's around?
Am I seeing truth, or do I just see wool?
Well is the cup half empty, or is the cup half full
song performed by by Beastie Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forever Young (Death Poem)
Adrenaline invincible speed empty road 3am,
Invisible tree stops speed & time forever.
Loved one’s anguish howl from 5am knock,
“Your baby died in a wreck on the highway”,
His 30 seconds of fame on the 8am news.
Life must go on for those not forever young,
Empty chair, empty life and broken hearts,
Missing him every second now forever old,
Anger at the waste of young life cut short.
poem by Ian Beckett
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The Comfort Of A Drunken Mind
Lipstick on an empty glass
A Memory of a smile
In my time, don’t you know?
Young girls vied for my attention
Always posing, Heartbreaker to women was I.
God, I will never see her smile again
Her voice silent to me
Inside I am a flower without rain
A musician without music
My love waits in a queue,
Full of fools, and whiskey bottles
Ahhh another drink
Yes tomorrow, will be better
I remember her stare,
Sitting on that chair,
That damn chair.
Drink Darling?
My Blossom of the night,
A smooth talker me.
I broke her dreams
Now Petals on a stormy sea
I remember her scent
Now washed away on the hurricanes breath
Called Whisky
Ahh another drink, she won’t leave me?
Damn that empty chair
To bed, the morning will bring her back
The bottle sleeps
And the sandman paints his illusions
Dreams invulnerable to reality
The glow of dawn, incinerates these imposters
Fabricated in the monsoon of a drowning brain
Cornflakes and Barley wine, a man’s breakfast
What now, a snifter I think and another thought?
Love has left this empty chair
Where dreams and happiness dwelt
Where futures were planned
And where love flowed, intoxicating our lives.
Still, the empty glass remains.
Ahh, another drink, and another illusion to comfort my soul
The bottle is my love now,
And the empty chair, my sentence.
That damned empty chair
Ahh did I tell you, once I was a heartbreaker?
Come Share a drink with me friend?
poem by Steven Cooke
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Hope
When I do not understand the darkness,
the things that prison you away from me
at places where no light can fall
it’s as if my whole life is extradited
to the one or other power
which destiny claims as its own
and I am just another player
who in Black Jack can count cards
but this is a totally different game
where the power of destiny
and of luck
always has the upper hand
and at times like in Hearts
you fold
and put your cards down on the table
and not always
are dealt the right, the best hand
by forces which you do not comprehend
are forced
to keep on playing the game
while life keeps on
dealing out new cards
and at times the loss is far greater
than you can comprehend
and you loose the hope
of a new tomorrow, of deliverance
somewhere along the way
and wonder about the hope,
the power of love.
[Reference: Hoop (“Hope”) by Mandi Engelbercht Out of: Speel vir Tyd.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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She's Got The Jack
She gave me the Queen
She gave me the King
She was wheelin' and dealin'
Just doin' her thing
She was holdin' a pair
But I had to try
Her Deuce was wild
But my Ace was high
But how was I to know
That she'd been dealt with before
Said she'd never had a Full House
But I should have known
From the tattoo on her left leg
And the garter on her right
She'd have the card to bring me down
If she played it right
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack
She's got the jack
Poker face was her name
Poker face was her nature
Poker straight was her game
If she knew she could get you
She played 'em fast
And she played 'em hard
She could close her eyes
And feel every card
But how was I to know
That she'd been shuffled before
Said she'd never had a Royal Flush
But I should have known
That all the cards were comin'
From the bottom of the pack
And if I'd known what she was dealin' out
I'd have dealt it back
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, and who knows what else?
She's got the jack, yeah, yeah
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack
She's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack,
Ooh, It was a bad deal, (Jack)
She gave me the (Jack), hey
She's got the (Jack), she's got the (Jack)
She's got the (Jack), ooh can't you tell
She's got the (Jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack)
(She's got the jack, she's got the Jack)
She's got the jack, she's got the Jack
She's got the jack, you never know!
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack
She's got the jack, and it hurts!
(She's got the jack)
She's got the jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack
She's got the jack
Aaaaaah!
Oooooh!
Thank you, thank you, thank you people, thank you, thank you
I'm glad you like the show, yes, thank you very much folks.
Goodnight and God bless
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The gamblers
One rainy night at a border camp
in the operational aria
I walked past a tent
and while the wind flapped open one side
a lightning bolt slammed down
into a tree near to me
sizzling with blue sparks flying
before it thundered cracking
and I saw some young soldier boys,
a group of troops
about the same age as I
sitting around a table
dressed in military vests
and brown military long pants
drinking brandy from a bottle
that they passed hand to hand
and I thought that they were probably
playing cards
or some sort of gambling game
when I heard the clicking sound
of the cylinder of a revolver being spun
and a dull click in an empty chamber
and knew which game was on
and walking right in
I took the gun from the next one
after it had again been spun
aimed it at the ground
next to the entrance and pulled the trigger
and the gun went off
with a bullet kicking up wet sand
near to the group of us.
Sheer terror had brought soberness
to the group
and those men were silent
with their eyes on my officer’s pips
and I took the revolver
and first thought about arresting
the lot of them but left them
to be sorted out by a sergeant
who followed me in
after admonishing them
with a very stern warning.
The very next day we went into action
were taken out
in some choppers
right into battle
and at the dropp zone
two rockets flew over my head
just after the last helicopter had lifted off
and the game was still on
for the brave young men
who accompanied me,
Russian roulette
with a bullet through the head
from a AK-47
or living on instead
from missed enemy shots.
[Reference: The gamblers by Anthony Delius.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Poem (‘It Doesn’t Look Like A Finger...’)
It doesn’t look like a finger it looks like a feather of broken glass
It doesn’t look like something to eat it looks like something eaten
It doesn’t look like an empty chair it looks like an old woman
searching in a heap of stones
It doesn’t look like a heap of stones it looks like an estuary where
the drifting filth is swept to and fro on the tide
It doesn’t look like a finger it looks like a feather with broken teeth
The spaces between the stones are made of stone
It doesn’t look like a revolver it looks like a convolvulus
It doesn’t look like a living convolvulus it looks like a dead one
KEEP YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY FRIENDS USE THEM ON
YOUR BITCHES OR
YOURSELVES BUT KEEP THEM OFF MY FRIENDS
The faces between the stones are made of bone
It doesn’t look like an eye it looks like a bowl of rotten fruit
It doesn’t look like my mother in the garden it looks like my father
when he came up from the sea covered in shells and tangle
It doesn’t look like a feather it looks like a finger with broken wings
It doesn’t look like the old woman’s mouth it looks like a handful
of broken feathers or a revolver buried in cinders
The faces beneath the stones are made of stone
It doesn’t look like a broken cup it looks like a cut lip
It doesn’t look like yours it looks like mine
BUT IT IS YOURS NOW
SOON IT WILL LOOK LIKE YOURS
AND ANYTHING YOU SEE WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU
London Bulletin, No. 2 (May 1938), 7.
poem by Hugh Sykes Davies
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Half The World
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Half the world hates
What half the world does every day
Half the world waits
While half gets on with it anyway
Half the world lives
Half the world makes
Half the world gives
While the other half takes
Half the world is
Half the world was
Half the world thinks
While the other half does
Half the world talks
With half a mind on what they say
Half the world walks
With half a mind to run away
Half the world lies
Half the world learns
Half the world flies
As half the world turns
Half the world cries
Half the world laughs
Half the world tries
To be the other half
Half of us divided like a torn-up photograph half of us are
Trying to reach the other half
Half the world cares
While half the world is wasting the day
Half the world shares
While half the world is stealing away
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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THE Cards
All cards are marked it's a game of chance
Fate collides leading us a merry dance
Slight of hand very quick
Nine or twenty one card trick
Luck never gives it only lends
Playing the cards always contends
Fate never looses it deals so svelte
It was always to be the hand that was dealt
So now all cards are marked
And all fates will collide
When at the table you next reside.
poem by Hazel Connelly
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