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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Related quotes
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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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
Poker face was her name
Poker face was her nature
Poker straight was her game
If she knew she could get you
She play'd 'em fast
She play'd '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.
song performed by by AC/DC from High Voltage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angel
I call you up
You pick up
You call my bluff
On the card of love
You hold too close
Your hands to your chest
I cant read your eyes
But I confess
Its lonely far from you, oh
Even when youre right by me
Its only why I wait for you
To take my hand
Why do I beg like a child for your candy?
Why do I come after you like I do, I love you?
Wherever you are
I swear
Youll be my angel
You
I play my cards the best I can
But I lose my luck when youre not here
My darling heart
Wont you please give in?
I may be strong
But I want you back again
When youre not here its hard to pretend
Its all alright again
When youre not here love its hard to pretend
Its all alright but still
Why do I beg like a child for your candy?
Why do I run after you like I do, I love you?
Whatever you are
I swear
You be my angel, you
Watch the deck
Count your cards
Makes no sense
That Im always losing
When youre gone
Why do I beg like a child for your candy?
Why do I come after you like I do, I love you
Whatever you are
I swear
Youll be my angel, you
When youre gone
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Game Of Poker
A deck of cards, and I think of the game poker
An ace is a joker
Or a choker
In the game of poker
You can win from behind
With five, four or three of a kind
Never be in a rush
To dish out a flush
When you do, rub it in a a blush
This game of poker, I love so much
Every card and every single touch
Winners, beginners, high shakers and losers
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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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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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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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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A deck of cards is built like the purest of hierarchies, with every card a master to those below it, a lackey to those above it.
quote by Ely Culbertson
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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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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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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Christmas - a despatch from the battlefield of the heart
Christmas is a-comin’ – but
this goose is gettin’ thin…
why do I feel I’m in the dock
of some unauthorised court of moral judgment
with the prospect of spending New Year
in some condemned cell of
personal opinion remarkably similar to
a Dickensian prison now electrified in just one wing…?
Forget the whole giving-presents thing – that’s
relatively simple – it’s those bloody
Christmas cards. Sent yours yet?
I’m with the angels on this one –
peace on earth and goodwill to all, uh,
persons… I’m fully paid up on
this one – so – can we stick with that?
or do we have to prove it with
a ready-printed message once a year?
It’s Christmas, dammit – maybe my year-round goodwill
is equalled by the whole other lot of you out there?
in which case, can we just take that as read,
a universal love-in on a level playing field?
It’s the subtext – ‘I’ve forgotten your personal existence
all the year, but look – Goody Two-Shoes is sending this
to show you up – and I’m posting it
so late that short of posting in the press
one of those announcements that say
‘This year Mr and Mrs Smith are sending
a donation to charity in place of the many Christmas cards
they would have sent to their many friends…’ – or
a postcard,
‘Now we’re back from our Antarctic trip,
Happy New Year! ’ you’re too late to reply…’
which means?
Or there's the subtext
'We're sending you a very
religious card with just the faintest hint that
although you may not have noticed it
when we had that blazing row
across the fence which has
simmered on all year, nevertheless
we're really more - well, everything -
than you bastards - however
this puts us, spiritually,
one up...'
‘Darling, Christmas cards – who sent us one
last year? ’ – say no more…
Would
‘No, we hadn’t quite forgotten you
in case you thought we had, and
I bet it’s mutual? ’ cards, tastefully
designed, be more fun? or
'Why should we even know your
name and address if we
hadn't once thought you worth loving and
if so, why should that change? '
I reckon one acid test for those you love
is, only think of sending cards to
those you’d think of phoning on
Christmas Eve or Christmas Day – and then,
do just that – no need to send a card as well?
Oh well, any excuse to say, I love you.. especially
if we mean it...
so, anyone who reads this (apart from those
who only read to check whether they’d
sent us one too) –
If an individual can claim to share
that universal love which, do we need reminding,
should live our lives for us all the year round,
please feel my universal love
blazing, blazing, towards you…
…‘what’s that, darling? Oh yes, I suppose
we’d better send them one, in case
they think we’d forgotten them… which evidently
we had, hadn’t we…? ’
Have a happy holiday and
a loving New Year full of peace
No really I mean it
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Stay
Now the journey is ending,
the wind is losing heart.
Into your hands it's falling,
a rickety house of cards.
The cards are backed with pictures
displaying all the world.
You've stacked up all the images
and shuffled them with words.
And how profound the playing
that once again begins!
Stay, the card you're drawing
is the only world you'll win.
poem by Ingeborg Bachmann
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Falling Out
I recall a time when we were lovers
Before you, I hadn't any others
When the bad times came along
I turned and you had gone
From the start, I loved you, I was wrong
Falling out, it's the end
May as well have never been
The cards are up, the chips are all cashed in
You won't see me again
Don't consider me your friend
Falling out - look away - it's the end
Always thought of you as my big brother
Never knew we couldn't trust each other
Two faces I could see, as you shook my money tree
There's no more "you & me" let it be
Falling out, it's the end
And I lose another friend
The cards are up, the chips are all cashed in
You won't see me again
Don't consider me your friend
Falling out - look away - it's the end
(solo)
Falling out, it's the end
May as well have never been
The cards are up, the chips are all cashed in
You won't see me again
Don't consider me your friend
Falling out - look away - it's the end
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Falling Out
I recall a time when we were lovers
Before you, I hadn't any others
When the bad times came along
I turned and you had gone
From the start, I loved you, I was wrong
Falling out, it's the end
May as well have never been
The cards are up, the chips are all cashed in
You won't see me again
Don't consider me your friend
Falling out - look away - it's the end
Always thought of you as my big brother
Never knew we couldn't trust each other
Two faces I could see, as you shook my money tree
There's no more "you & me" let it be
Falling out, it's the end
And I lose another friend
The cards are up, the chips are all cashed in
You won't see me again
Don't consider me your friend
Falling out - look away - it's the end
(solo)
Falling out, it's the end
May as well have never been
The cards are up, the chips are all cashed in
You won't see me again
Don't consider me your friend
Falling out - look away - it's the end
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Six of Hearts
Where are the yelps and the cries now, Magda,
Where did the squeals and the laughter go?
Where the bright eyes and the sighs now, Magda?
Gone where the shadows of darkness go!
What of your trembling hands now, Magda,
What of the tears from your eyes that flow?
Playing your Patience for time now, Magda,
Soon you will know what the others know!
These are the cards that have fallen, Magda,
Helga and Hilde, and Helmut, your son,
These were the fruit of your lies now, Magda,
Holde and Hedda and Hiede undone!
Loyalty comes at a price now, Magda,
Takes you unsteadily into the yard,
Wait the release of the bullet, Magda,
Taking each memory, bitter and scarred!
Waiting, you think of the card game, Magda,
Nothing would work in the fall of the cards,
You think of the one card lost there, Magda,
It comes with a bullet - the Six of Hearts!
21 August 2010
(After breaking cyanide capsules in the mouths of her six children,
Magda Goebbels returned to the bunker, sat and played Patience) .
poem by David Lewis Paget
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4% Pantomime
The management said they were sorry
For the inconvenience you are suffering
And mr. booking agent, please have mercy
Dont book the jobs so far apart
We went up to griffith park
With a fifth of johnny walker red
And smashed it on a rock and wept
While the old couple looked on into the dark
Oh, richard, tell me if its poker
Oh, richard, tell me, whos got the joker and is it poker
Deuces wild, like an only child
Ill see what you got. how much is in the pot
You pay the tips and Ill collect the chips
Its a full house tonight -- everybody in town is a loser
Yeah, you bet
The dealers been dealing me bad hands
From the bottom of the deck without the slightest blush
And I dont know whether to call or check
But right now I feel like I got a royal flush
And my lady didnt show from frisco
But we had to go on with the show
Everybody got stoned -- it was a gas, it was a smash
Everybody got wrecked, checked. oh, oh, oh, oh.
Oh, belfast cowboy, lay your cards on the grade
Oh, belfast cowboy, can you call a spade a spade
Oh, richard, tell me, is the game poker
I cant understand who the fool is that holds this joker
Is it poker
Oh, belfast cowboy, lay your cards down on the table
Oh, belfast cowboy, do you think youre able
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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031310 That's Lo-jack Too
on the other side is a blockbuster movie
at this time of afternoon line could be long
some smart guys from somewhere change
that tone, you can rent movie for dollar a day
swipe your card pick whatever you want to see
to return is just easy, deal with machine not lady
i'm waiting for my card embedded in my thumb
so i won't carry id's, credit card nor driver's license
key to my car and house just press 'em, you pass
they have to cut it out from me, wait they can hack
hat would be painful, i can't imagine it could have
another smart guy would come around thumb decipher
but then they know where i would be, that's lo-jack too
even my boss know i'm not at work, where i should be
they will have self locking turn-styles, until police will arrive
they can deactivate you so you can't start your car
hmmm... i have no more life of my own, i rather be free
carry all those cards, keys and whatever i wanted to be
poem by Manonton Dalan
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On Receiving A Christmas Card From Nora
A Christmas card from a friend far away
It takes me back again to boyhood day
She was a woman when I was young boy
Some forty years ago how time does fly.
She was a good friend to our family
And nice to know she still remember me
A friend and neighbour of the very best
And one of the kindest souls of Millstreet West.
That Christmas card from Nora took me far away
Back home to Millstreet Town and Claraghatlea
And Christmas was a special time of year
A time of Santa, Christmas fun and cheer.
A Christmas card from friend of years ago
And no friend like old friend we used to know
And a card from dear friend is a gift of joy
And it took me back to when I was a boy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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