We’ve all played games at some times in our lives. I’m not talking “mind games”. I’m thinking you may have a favorite card game. Or you like to participate in board games. Being poets, we are adept at wordplay and word games. Puzzles (crosswords, anacrostics, sudoka, word search…) are an enjoyable pastime. There are games of chance…Competitive Team Games…Computer games?
Choose any game as the title of your poem and write a poem (that has absolutely NOTHING to do with the game of your choice). Just use your poetic voice and quit playing games.
SARA’S GAME:
SCRABBLE (Desperately Seeking Q)
Does Scrabble scramble your brain?
Are you trained to think slowly,
methodically? Maybe you quit
early because there are not quite
enough words you can think of
quickly. Well don’t quake
in your boots, thinking you are not
smart enough to be quizzed
on your vocabulary. Your qi may
not be up to par. Quash those notions
of not being smart enough.
Instead, remember this quote:
“Nobody can make you feel
inferior without your consent”
(Eleanor Roosevelt)
We all have many fine qualities.
If you ask questions,
you will find answers.
WALTER’S GAME:
CHARADES
When we play our charades,
we think we’re fooling each other.
But, pretending only works if you believe.
Troubled hearts become good
at keeping words to a minimum.
When we play our charades
we get caught in these wordless duels.
Our objections often get overruled and
we think we’re fooling each other.
Our actions do not reveal all that we feel,
and we try to deal with very little relief.
But, pretending only works if you believe.
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016
**For some reason, Charades was the game that came to mind (though I’ve never played) and it felt right to write “Charades”as a Cascade poem.
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
BASEBALL
Strikeouts
happen to all,
but it hurts lovers most
to connect but never to reach
first base.
Wow. Home run!
Well put William, Time for another inning. 🙂
Love this, William.
very true and well said
Another hit right out of the box, William!
Right season for comparison. How well this works.
So sad. 🙂
Love this!
Sara and Walt, your starter pieces struck chords with me, for different reasons. Scrabble reminded me of the way I feel when I play with someone who knows all those little words that build up scores. Charades fit the cascade form because the form almost disguises itself while being executed. Both of them remind me of fundamental truths that tend to get forgotten. Wonderful.
Thanks Bill.
Thanks much, William.
Cat’s Cradle
I often wish I were more resourceful or coordinated.
Struggling with a knotty situation
makes me feel a sense of frustration. I get aggravated,
and yet, I admit I feel rather pleased with myself
when I’ve extricated
myself from certain complications.
However, I’ve found there can be different solutions, since some are created
through circumstance or inspiration
and knowing that fact cannot be overstated or even exaggerated.
###
I see the “magic 9” still has all its powers, in your hands.
Love it! Super creative!
Well done, encourages one to think beyond the moment.
Love the metaphor of this, RJ. 🙂
very nice!
Excellent, RJ. Exactly what this prompt was meant to convey, done to perfection!
How well cats cradle works for this theme,
Good job.
Another clever one, Randi. Always looking forward to reading you…!
Splendor
The obsession
to grab for riches
when chips are down
may beyond understanding
but we do it over
and over again.
Ouch. Good one, Connie!
Yes, ….bit of human nature there.
Unfortunately, so true.
We sure do. Thanks for sharing this!
Spot on.
The easy grab is a step down the wrong path. Well said, Connie!
Well said, Connie. That is who we are.
Thanks all. I was wondering if anyone besides me plays Splendor? It’s addictive, but it doesn’t seem like it should be.
Yes, we do! Thanks for holding a mirror…
Clue
It’s all in the way
her eyelashes fall
over emerald green,
the slant of her smile.
He knows.
She winks,
thinks nothing
of scar
-let swirled halls,
white sheets;
dreams of
peacock feathers,
plums, and
candlesticks
lit just right in
significant ballrooms.
OH. MY. WORD. Could you be any more creative?!!
🙂
This is tied up neatly, like Miss Scarlett’s ribbons.
Now, there’s a gamer! Nicely played, Ma’am!
A favorite game if mine, played to perfection here, De!
Nice one!
What Marie says… What else can be said in response to your brilliant creations, De?
[…] Playing games with Poetic Bloomings. Come on […]
“GOOD” SPORT
Small, slow
Can’t throw
Can’t catch
Mismatched
Always licked
Never picked
Name a game
All the same
Word play?
Make way!
You retort:
“Not a sport.”
All the same,
I’m game!
For sure, this one is ‘real’, and I can ‘picture’ the scene.
😉
LOVE the rhyme here!
Thanky thanky!
Wonderful and so you MEG!
HA! Thanks Linda! 😀
This elicits a BIG smile here. Reading your work gives me an all’s-tight-with-the-world feeling.
Awwww! Big, warm smiles to you, Bill.
Great wordplay and rhyme work, that from the guy rarely picked. Usually the “consolation” prize.
Aww! LOL!
Love how you chose to format this. Make way for wordplay, I say!
Thanks!
Fun poem!
Thanks Connie!
I love him and this, Marie! Wonderful!
Sara: “Desperately seeking Q” … love it! The quintessential poem!
Walt: EXCELLENT. And love that last line … so much truth!
Thanks Pard! My imagination IS rather convincing! 😃
Thanks, Marie. Good Q word.
Hay(na)ku [Word count – 1-2-3 words per line, Stanzas run along telling a story]. Maybe before writing, I should have read more than just the prompt title…..
SOLITAIR
Computer
games that
some folk play
can
drain away
parcels of time.
While
sucking half
the day away
they
later whisk
the night aside.
Games
are verily
a beguiling frolic
not
narrowed by
an appointed time.
Go
ahead put
the computer away
reserve
games to
vest another day.
I considered using this title/game as well. You did it justice!
🙂 Thank You Marie
YES. The more you “play,” the more solitary life gets, that’s for sure. Excellent.
Yes, but a good escape if kept within boundaries. (been there….) 😉
I need to heed your advice!!
Bingo!
BINGO -another game.
Ducks,
numbers, letters
all lined up
been
boxed up
or just crisscrossed
_
__ __
___ ___ ___
Time
to get
another play card
🙂
Yessss. I love this! It works in both the game and life. 😀
I can relate.
Walt – enjoy your use of a Cascade and how you use it here. Good fit.
Sara – I’m with you at the scrabble board. Well done.
Thanks, Margory. My second choice was Solitaire, so I’m in good company!
Thanks, Marjory. You make a good point in your poem.
Like Dominoes
Behind closed doors
Secrets are born
But then, when everybody knows
The house from which
Fond dreams are torn
Falls like dominoes
Oh … Oh this is excellent. So much stated/implied in so few words. EXCELLENT.
Agreed
Me too!
This feels like a killer song lyric to me, Janet. Wonderfully so.
“Falls like dominos” How true, most times they fall the wrong way, but PTL, they sometimes fall like blessings in the right direction. 🙂
Thank-you all …and Marjory, we are praying for that!!
Awesome!
Very nice, great analogy, Janet!
Brief piece of brilliant meaning.
A lot in a few words
Looney Tunes
When we were kids,
we were oh so serious
about playing war.
We had the leftover helmets
from the big war, the one
our fathers lived through,
the one some of them survived.
We lived in a poor village, but
a few of us had Red Ryder BB guns,
a poor fit for our silly games,
but more real than the sticks
the rest of us carried.
When we were teens,
some of us in our twenties,
many of us were still poor, and
we were still kids,
even though we thought
we were men,
just because we were
so very far from home.
A few of us thought
we were still playing war,
though most of us knew
it was a deadly serious sport.
Now we are old,
And we know it.
We also know
how foolish we were.
How silly of us
to think that any of it
was ever a game.
I love you, my friend. I admire your words … your service … your worth. Deadly serious, indeed. 😦 God’s peace be with you.
I always feel your prayers
This warms my heart.
Oh, Daniel. So fitting. So perfect.
And you, as always, are so kind
Reminds me of a 60’s (or s0) song about different ages, wish I could remember it…. “…when we were (age) we……”. Oh, for sure as time passes, we do learn that some things do change…. “games” change. 🙂 Good job.
When I was 17, it was a very good year…
Yes, that was the song.
Perfect for Decoration Day. For anytime, really.
I always thought the term “war games” was oxymoronic. How we romanticized it was also strange. A great write, Daniel.
Wishing you a peaceful Memorial Day, my friend
Timely poem, Daniel. wish a time would arrive to make this idea of war games obsolete.
Oh Daniel, so true, relatable, and profound. Wonderful!
Well written and oh so meaningful.
This touched me. Deeply. Thank you, Daniel.
Imaginiff
Imagine if there were no wars
and all that money went to scores
of reasearch solving human ills,
providing vitimins and pills.
Or for exploring into space,
perhaps to save the human race.
Or to the arts so we might be
a more advanced humanity.
Or anything at all but killing.
We can do it if we’re willing.
For me, the rhyming adds to the power of this piece.
I agree. Some seem to think rhyming is only for “light” verse, but I believe sometimes it lends a powerful or poignant piece flow and memorability. Nice work, Linda!
I agree with William and Mary, It is a gentle addition to the meaning and flow.
Well done.
Yes
The rhyme does carry this piece, Linda!
A more humanistic approach to hope for, well said in rhyme.
love this
PAPA CALLED IT POLKA
In his Italian accent
Papa called it “polka,”
and when he found a deck
hidden in my dresser
he’d toss it in the garbage.
“We don’t need no gamblers here,”
he’d say. “It’s the devil’s game.
“Stay away from polka.”
At weddings Papa danced
the polka like Astaire.
He’d have his nieces puffing
out of breath (Mama didn’t dance)
then when one polka ended,
Papa was ready for the next.
He refused to let
his nieces sit one out.
Years later Sharon taught me
how to shuffle, deal,
hold and fold my poker hand.
She showed me how to wear
the inscrutable poker stare
unlike the happy beaming face
Papa wore when he danced the night away.
#
Delightful
It’s all of that.
Agreed!
Nice contrast here, Sal!
Fun to read, good memories. Well done for sure.
Made me think, I poker better than polka but it doesn’t hurt to have both in one’s life. Nicely done. 😀
Great poem. Brings back memories of the rules my mom had for card games. No poker. All other card games okay, except on Sundays.
This is a storyteller’s poem. Wonderful.
I enjoy writing poems about my parents. It is my way of bringing them back to me if only in poetic lines. Thank you all for your kind comments.
I enjoy “meeting” your parents thought your words, Sal. I do the same with mine, using them for my best inspirations. I’m glad you are inspired here as well!
A beautiful memory, Sal. I love this. Dad played polka drums with a poker face, so I get this completely!
HIDE-AND-SEEK
I still seek –
though I know I may not find.
Finding is rare.
I still find –
when I master the art
of doing without.
I still hide –
but not for long and no longer
from myself.
I still gain –
when what I never looked for
finds me.
I still win –
when I go back to home base
for bliss.
~ Nurit Israeli
A winning poem for sure, Nurit! Such is the game of life. Always seeking and hoping to find, never giving up in the process! I love this piece!
Same here.
There is a lot of sound advice within those lines. Good job of writing.
you’re always “it”, Nurit….that is, if “it” is perfect
Daniel, thank you for the compliment (and for the rhyme…)
Life as hide and seek, always, Nurit. You picked a perfect game in which to write.
Thanks, Sara – sometimes hide, sometimes find, always seek…
Candy Crush
The colors fall
Packets blow
Stripes swipe
And that color bomb
What a deal breaker
Candy hammers
Bubble eats chocolate
Teeth bite bad guys
Hand makes switches
Checks bring surprises
Spin the wheel daily
Five rounds max
Send lives to friends
And extra moves, too
They’ll send them back
Frustration levels bite
Hard levels not so bad
But when that hour glass
Rears its ugly head
I tremble in fear
Candy crush renamed
Candy crack
Far too addictive
The only break I get
Is waiting for new levels
© Earl Parsons
[…] and Poetic Bloomings – Prompt 184: Games People Play […]
I had fallen behind so I cheated a bit and combined Sunday’s prompt and today’s form into one poem.
PUZZLED
When I was young, I
had an idea
of what my life would
look like. Each day, each
year, and each decade
has, instead, pieced
my life into
a picture I’d
not been planning.
At nearly
fifty: no
husband or
children.
It’s just
me.
2016-06-01
Paula Wanken
CLUE
The down comforter
has sprung a leak (thin
cotton + jagged
toenails, a harsh coast)
and there are small feathers here
and there. Dandelion,
spiderling feathers like light,
touching things and leaving.
Everything this morning
is comprable to light. I slept well,
dreamed of puffy clouds.
And those are sweet dreams, Barbara! Thanks for giving us a clue!