This is long overdue. My first collaboration with Nep, thanks man for the pleasure.
The Honest Gambler
The Honest Gambler
Risk, that's all I know.
How far can I go with this deck?
How much can I get from my hand?
Everything is for sale here;
And, I sold it all to myself.
I can't remember when I saw "luck";
Even less than a glimpse of "sanity"?
But, in all honesty,
I can't leave.
I can't leave until I get it all back.
Whatever it was I lost,
I can't remember anymore.
It was the summer before I forgot
To gamble a runner in my scandalous
Fashion. There was a tap dancer there
To capture my big toe's slow, roaming
Syncopation. He left it on the table.
The gambler just went all in on this ride,
Once everything had been decided.
It happened on a Friday.
Honesty departed.
I had not perceived anything black;
And, there was no cost for evermore
When the hoofer turned gamester.
In vicious trance we sit and stare,
Trying to shake, trying to wit,
It's not a normal dance, as everyone says,
It's not a mind game, as everyone knows.
It's honesty, all about honesty,
And the search for it,
Beyond the deal, beyond the shades,
And even, beyond the eyes,
It's a game we all play,
Some will be better than others,
And some might just get plain physical,
And senseless;
But, somebody wins, even the house.
It's all about the seek and find;
It's all about the tremble and sweat;
It's all about the dance that nobody knows.
What is truth? "Forsooth! 'Tis a low down
Pie in the sky, somewhat missed
Mysterious shape. That's strange.
I did not see the no u turn, officer."
What does the law matter today, eh?"
He asked sarcastically of the master
Of dance.
As so, the master answers,
It matters everyday,
It's how you win,
It's how you lose,
And that's how everything turns to your favor,
Or not,
And as the sun falls,
And rises again,
The chips on the table,
Are just points of view,
Of what you want,
Of what you will,
And you're left numb by thought and vision,
Of what is left behind,
And where you want to be, again.
Ah ... so, the dancer answers.
The law is an ass, they have said
From time to everlasting time.
The judges smile and nod,
Knowingly, weirdly, wryly, with a vision
Of suppose-ed justice, scaling mountaintops;
And, as the moon rises,
And settles in, I look upwards,
As the candlelight dwindles
From insight. "Throw sand
On the floor, Fred Astaire!
Thanks, Bing. I think I will."
Those tap dancing shoes were too small
For these toes;
But, I seem to have lost my tongue to the table.
The dancer (s) moves without a trace,
Poetry by Saga
Read 788 times
Written on 2007-06-11 at 04:48
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