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Richard Conrad Henry

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The drunken hazard of being up so late
by Richard Conrad Henry

Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Richard Conrad Henry
•  Sicily and beyond
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           >> View all 67

Everytime I play Patience
on this computer
I miss the Queen of Hearts
everytime I try to bluff at poker
I re-deuce the gambler in me

when I attempt a leap of faith
I end up, face first, in a pile of disgust
'cause jumping like an idiot only
fits those who trust the dust

I could have owned a business
but felt the need to stay astray
I could have been my parents'dream
instead I chose my ways

and if some son of a bitch
might have thought
I'd be good at sports
his disappointment would be
paramount

some people have the power of influence
others let you cold
many steer away from us
a few grow on you like mould

I guess that on the whole
I have but few regrets
one, certainly must be
the scorn of being so small

otherwise I could have grown to be
what was expected
rather then spend my time
sitting here, at this machine,
alone and in the dark
with my intolerance
and a deck
of stale old cards.

 

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Reviewed by Ed Matlack 5/21/2008
What are you doing with a pack of cards when the computer has all the games you could ever want, hell, I think I have not played solitaire other than on the puter for an easy 10 years...I enjoy being up late too, specially when I do so high...ed
Reviewed by Karen Palumbo 5/21/2008
But you walk tall in the light with words of magic....

Be always safe,
Karen
Reviewed by Gene Williamson 5/21/2008
Fortunately, Richard, no one will ever accuse you
of being small with the pen (or your putermajig).
I like the way you write.



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