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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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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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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Solitair, a teacher
Solitaire is a card game
Developed for playing
By self with no opponent
The fact is you are
Playing your own self
This is what
Solitaire teaches you
You shuffle cards
You distribute them
Upside down
Over eight or ten rows
Not knowing which card
Lays where and in what order
Keeping only the top layer open
You start arranging
Cards in descending order
As you move an open card
The card immediately under
Opens up
The card opening up may or may ot be
Matching your requirements
While opening up card
Depends on your luck
Card moving is totally
Left to you and
A lot depends on your skill
But you keep playing
Till the time either you win
By accumulating suits in order
Or when you get stuck
With no more moving of cards possible
And you lose the game
Life is like that only
And as in solitaire you play it alone
Though you seemingly have partners
And you must know that
You are all alone playing your game
You act on visible opportunities
And as you act upon this
New venues opening up
One by one
Either to your surprise or shock
Still you keep playing the game of life
Expecting each time when you act
There will be favourable changes
And with further scopes for gaining
The only difference is that
You quit the game in solitaire
But in life the game leaves you
At its discretion
Leaving you to wonder
Whether you are a winner or loser
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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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.
True Wealth Held In Hands
cards are played out upon gamble green table
cards kept passed tabled cards are all retained
like life chances taken forsaken what remains?
cheaters takers complainers purpose is aim ruled same
winners losers all played out in card cane greed game
chips are down in game romance legends claim fame
compassion love are only chips life value held in hand
all acts of kindness are stepping stones to promised land
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Dealt into silence
Dealt into silence
~
I sit and shuffle a deck of cards
Each queen named, a prelude to fate
Momentarily I distract myself enough
To slip into an idyllic peaceful isolation
And what has brought me to this conclusion
That I now turn my back to the world
And seek the confines of solitude
I sit turning each card, counting nothing
For there is nothing in these turns of fate
Each queen I named a sad memory
Of a love I held passed unrequited
The same story, the same bitter ending
Those false promises sound like quotations
Reeling out from liars lips meaningless
And who was there to pick up the pieces
Of the broken heart and weeping soul
The cards are shuffled and dealt
Into silence and solitude
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Hand I'm Dealt
I've been dealt a hand not fair or just,
Though in this game I know I must
Play my cards the best I can,
Since the same one deals to every man.
To whine and whimper in this game of poker
Is to lose my way and end up a joker.
The right path is always fraught with peril,
But all other ways are sad and sterile.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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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
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Widows
My mother's playing cards with my aunt,
Spite and Malice, the family pastime, the game
my grandmother taught all her daughters.
Midsummer: too hot to go out.
Today, my aunt's ahead; she's getting the good cards.
My mother's dragging, having trouble with her concentration.
She can't get used to her own bed this summer.
She had no trouble last summer,
getting used to the floor. She learned to sleep there
to be near my father.
He was dying; he got a special bed.
My aunt doesn't give an inch, doesn't make
allowance for my mother's weariness.
It's how they were raised: you show respect by fighting.
To let up insults the opponent.
Each player has one pile to the left, five cards in the hand.
It's good to stay inside on days like this,
to stay where it's cool.
And this is better than other games, better than solitaire.
My grandmother thought ahead; she prepared her daughters.
They have cards; they have each other.
They don't need any more companionship.
All afternoon the game goes on but the sun doesn't move.
It just keeps beating down, turning the grass yellow.
That's how it must seem to my mother.
And then, suddenly, something is over.
My aunt's been at it longer; maybe that's why she's playing better.
Her cards evaporate: that's what you want, that's the object: in the end,
the one who has nothing wins.
poem by Louise Gluck
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Grandma
Grandma wish you were here
the walks and the talks and playing with chalk
make me miss you most
sitting around the table playing cards
watching you dance the cards around
listening to the stories of old
boy, do i remember them well
it's been years since you gone to a better place
I miss you so
trips to the store, we enjoyed
Miller's Store small, but busy
tell me about the candies we will buy
butterscotch was our favorite
Grandma, I miss you so
thanks for sharing your stories
being my friend, giving me time
I will always have you in my dreams
walking to the store, dancing cards
love you so, missing you most
Grandma's gone, but her soul is here
poem by Michael Peterson
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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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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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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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The Chase
In every game, there is a chase
whether it is in cards or love.
In cards we chase the suits
hoping lady luck will play your way.
In love, you chase the hand
of your maiden fair
hoping when you find her
love will be there.
Whether you win or lose
the case for the things we want
is the most thrilling thing of all.
25 February 2011
poem by David Harris
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How To Be A Millionaire
Ive seen the future, I cant afford it
Tell me the truth sir, someone just bought it
Say mr. whispers! here come the click of dice
Roulette and blackjacks - gonna build us a paradise
Larger than life and twice as ugly
If we have to live there, youll have to drug me
Maybe these luxuries can only compensate
For all the cards you were dealt at the hands of fate
So tell me
Tell me! tell me! how to be a millionaire
Tell me! tell me! how to be a millionaire!
Millionaire! billionaire! trillionaire!
Hardly surprising if you might consider
Loyalties go to the highest of bidders
Whats my opinion? Id give you ten to one
Give me a million, a franchise on fun
But there are millions who often get nowhere
And theres just one secret I think you should share
Maybe these luxuries can only compensate
For all the cards you were dealt at the hands of fate
So tell me
Tell me! tell me! how to be a millionaire
Tell me! tell me! how to be a millionaire!
Who wants to be millionaire?
I do! - I dont! - I do!
Who wants to be millionaire?
I do! - I dont!
Ive seen the future and I cant afford it
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life is like a game of cards. The hand you are dealt is determinism; the way you play it is free will.
quote by Jawaharlal Nehru
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life is like a game of cards. The hand that is dealt you is determinism the way you play it is free will.
quote by Jawaharlal Nehru
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hand That’s Dealt
A game of chance and double bluff
Deception relies upon the blink of an eye
The will to stand firm and do not fight
The hand that’s dealt decider of life
Do not blink or suspect the lie
For the experienced hand knows well
That a truth can become rewritten
To be believed with utter conviction
Judge not the night to come
Nor the morning after
Stay firm and resolute in all you see
Lest you miss a turn of the cards
The slide of hand, a change in play
A silence shall speak to answer suspicion
Upon the final call, a wait is over
And the hands that’s dealt
It shall deliver
poem by Matthew Holloway
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You Got The Deal
I lived my life one way too long.
Deal me straight, I can't go wrong.
A gambler's fate's in the cards he takes,
And now I know it's just a mistake.
Don't know the game,
But you got the deal.
Don't know the game,
But you got the deal.
You got the . . .
Left our dreams on a lonely road.
Come back here with a heavy load.
Fight our best when the chips are down.
You go your way, and I'll win this round.
Don't know the game,
But you got the deal.
Don't know the game,
But you got the deal.
LEAD BREAK
You live your life for the dollar sign.
And all that you've made,
You're just buying time.
But time takes it toll,
It don't care who you are
You know you're marked for life
With your empty heart.
Don't know the game,
But you got the deal.
Don't know the game,
But you got the deal.
I don't know the game,
But you got the deal.
Don't know the game,
But you got the deal.
song performed by by 38 Special
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.