Love Poems About Games or Games Love Poems

Games love poems and/or love poems about Games. Read, share, and enjoy these Games love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by ... Gigno |
Categories: i love you, life, me,

No Games

I never should have let you go
You were trying to reach to me
Everything seems all messed up
And this life feels incomplete

I am asking you to share your life
Please tell me fears have subsided
Let me know if you can handle this
To give you my attention undivided

Just look inside to see me now
I am the real what is right
Larger than a physical romance
Next to you, beyond delight

I just needed a little more time
To try evening out this score
I am ready for our life together
To see what I'd missed before

You know I don't mean it literally
Because our love's never a game
I'll forever show you can trust me
Why I love you remains the same


Poem Details | by Robert Candler |
Categories: addiction, angst, conflict, confusion, dedication, depression, desire, devotion, funny, games, golf, hope, humorous, journey, sad love, sports,

Flailin'

Flailin’,  flailin’, flailin’;
There goes my ball sailin’
Into a trap, the water or the woods.

Flailin’, flailin’, flailin’;
You can hear me wailin’,
“Why won’t that damn ball go where it should?

Drives go right Putts go wrong.
I shank my wedges or ‘skull’em’ long.
My golf game’s just no damn good.

I’m swingin’ too hard & lookin’ up;
As if I’ll actually see it go in the cup….
As if it ever really would.

My alignment’s too far left or right.
My ball can find the only tree or trap in sight,
Even if the shot starts out lookin’ good.

These days, I carry some special tools:
A handheld weed eater with extra spools
And a pruning saw, in case I’m in the woods 

I’ve even tried to ‘buy’ a better game.
No matter My scores were just as lame.
Those new clubs didn’t do what they should.

Bogies & doubles...even triples..are common scores.
I very rarely get pars any more.
Believe me, I’d change it if I could.

My buddies said it must be me,
A teaching pro I should go see.
They said he’d fix my game…..if anybody could.

The pro said, “Hit some balls while I watch you.
Just set up and hit’em like you normally do.
We’ll see if I can do your game any good.”

After the first bucket of balls I hit,
He calmly said, “Take two weeks off…then quit.
Take my advice You really should.”

Now, what really has me vexed,
I’m wondering what I’ll try next.
That pro’s advice was no damn good.

So, I struggle along with my flailin’ game;
But, strangely enough, have fun just the same,
Finding hope in rare shots that are actually good.


Poem Details | by Lin Lane |
Categories: flower, love,

I Won't Play Childish Games: with a guest poet

I don't want a flimsy daisy chain love one the slightest breeze will sever apart Their blooms are as pure as a turtle dove I won't play childish games with my heart Plucking flower petals, I would never do for he either loves me, or he loves me not Cupid drew his little bow and an arrow flew He missed but I consider it a warning shot Love is seldom simpleI'm aware of that Unless built on honesty, it will surely fail The man I will love must wear a white hat not some scoundrel who carries a tall tale The truth in matters will someday be told So I'll not pluck daisies and strip them bare One day my heart will discover and enfold the hero searching for me, his own lady fair July 7th, 2017 *Thank you, Marti Sutherland, for writing in tandem with me.


Poem Details | by Lyndell Cadasse |
Categories: happiness, love, night, games, night,

Speak Of Real Bliss

I stopped combing my heart
So my feelings could lock up
And I’d be able to speak of real bliss
Then wrap my love around how unlike
The others you drew no boundaries
But still you knew who you want
And I didn’t have to pull any stunts
Or play these games 
That we all play when the days
Turn to night and her smile
Shines so bright

I’m enamoured 
Losing all my power
But I don’t need this
Lie to steal this kiss
And I don’t have to lie 
Or invent moments that
Speak of real bliss 
Or wish that she was another
Cause she’s the other
I wished they all were

The games I used to stir
My pot of lies
And tries to be the man
I’m not ready to be
You had the foresight to see
That soon I’ll be the man
Who speaks of real bliss
And wants to give you kids
Living the best life  
You’ll ever know
We’ll grow together

Maybe even old
A weathered couple 
Reminiscing about that Tuesday night
We had our last first kiss
The night I learned how
To speak of real bliss.


Poem Details | by Collin Wolfer |
Categories: emotions, games, i love you, sensual,

Scream

You make me want to scream
You are clouding my brain
Your hair is thin
Your back cannot be seen
Beautiful..loving you is my sin-- 
Five hours that have been-- 
So slow, so painful, desert ridden
You are a permanent stain
It's not your fault-- 
That you won't go away 
It's not your fault-- 
That you are clouding my brain
I still love you
Every minute without you is pain
It's only been three days
I can't stop thinking of you
You make me want to scream, 
Because you are clouding my brain
Stop playing me like a game-- 
Before I go insane.
These antagonistic games remain the same.


Poem Details | by JEAN MURRAY |
Categories: friendship love, fun, games,

AGING VALENTINES

Won't you be my Valentine
Even though we're past our prime?
Now our kids are up and running,
we could escape to somewhere sunny.

We've been neighbours now for years,
let's bring each other some cheer.
You lost your love, I lost mine.
Won't you be my Valentine?

Nights are lonely don't you think?
Instead we could be at the brink
of something new and exciting.
Isn't that thought inviting?

Life's for living I always say.
When the sun shines, make hay.
We could be so good together.
Please won't you tell me whether

you seek comfort just like me.
The kettle's on, I'll make tea.
I'll be yours if you'll be mine.
Won't you be my Valentine?

29/01/2018.




Poem Details | by John Hamilton |
Categories: betrayal, break up, love hurts, pain,

Jealous games

Jealous games

You walked in, 
with those high heels...
and everyone,
watched you as you walked

Your little black dress,
fit you 
oh so tight...
attention was what you got

You stared at me,
as the men came around...
you flirted..with one and all

Bridge 1
And all the guys, they fought,
hard just to get close..they fought to get close..

Chorus
Jealous games...
the one game you're so good at playing
Jealous games...
you know exactly how to play it,
play it...play it..play it

We met some, 
forty years ago...
when we were both, oh so young

You told me you were,
looking for your one true love....
but, you left me feeling,
oh so numb...

You fell into...temptations trap...
and expected...
I would take you back

Brige 2
but, all I could see, 
was my rainbows..exploding...rainbows exploding...

as you played

Chorus
Jealous games...
the one game you're so good at playing...
Jealous games...
you know exactly how to play it,
play it..play it..play it

I remember our time spent,
at half moon bay...
collecting seashells out on the beach

Listening to,
the music of Seals and Croft...
not knowing,
true love was out of reach

I was convinced,
you were the one for me...
I guess you never..agreed..

Bridge 3
So I threw away,
my rose colored glasses..my rose colored glasses


Chorus
Jealous games...
the one game you're so good at playing...
Jealous games...
you know exactly how to play it,
play it..play it..play it

repeat chorus fade

John Derek Hamilton
October 16,2017
















Poem Details | by Murray Mahauariki |
Categories: education, life, father, emotions, father, friend, games, life, love, i love you,

I am you Father not your Friend

Son: Your my friend aye Dad?

Dad: No I'm not, you want friends go down the street and make them.

Son: Why?, Don't you love me Dad?.

Dad: Of course I love you son, and I always will, but I will never be your friend.

Son: I want to be your friend.

Dad: I don't want you to be my friend, you are my Son and I am your Father.

Son: But why Dad I don't understand?.

Dad: 

The role I have chosen I don't do with a light heart, the boundaries I have put in place is the keep those two things apart, Being a parent and being a friend to mean to different things me, ones corrupted with emotions and games where the other is meant to set you free. As your father I will love you, with an unconditional heart, I'm here to advise you when things in life get hard. to be your voice of reason, with conviction I wont sway, as the role of your Father I feel i'm meant to lead the way. Friendship are important, there emotions and values you will explore, some will become important to you, some you will ignore, many silly things you'll do, no doubt with your new found friends, friendship are full of adventures, some that might never end. But when the games are over and the party has come to an end, when the full brunt of life clouds your mind, reality finally sets in, Even if you think you don't need me, in your shadow I will stand, I am you Father, my job's to teach you to be a man.
M.Mahauariki © 2012


Poem Details | by Tasha Taylor |
Categories: betrayal, funny love, games, hero, princess, truth,

THE VIDEO GAME AFFAIR

Across the pixelated clouds, jumps a little man in red and blue.
He jumps hard and fast through the massive flood of mismatched minions
The only thing on his tiny mind is get the girl
Course this is not the first time he has to go rescue her

The hot-headed idiot who kidnaps her just doesn't give up 
And he just doesn't die, no matter how many times he is killed
Course in this world, everyone can be revived by colorful mushrooms of extra life.
The cruelty of the never ending reality for the little man in red and blue 
Has gotten close to driving him insane

Yet, he can depend on his brother and trusty pet to help sometimes
Thus, they keep his impending insanity at bay
Thankfully, this rescue mission his brother in green and blue 
Meets up with him so that they can fight the minion of the hot-headed idiot

Together, they fight through them till they make it to the castle 
Lava steams all around them as they sneak in
Together the little man in red and blue and his brother in green and blue,
Work to defeat all the opposition that they come upon
To avoid letting the hot-headed idiot know they had arrived, 

They scurried into the vents, using their small size to their advantage
Shortly thereafter, the plopped outside of the hot-headed idiot's throne room
Quickly, they threw the throne room door open, 
Expecting to see the girl all locked up and guarded by his magicians

To their gut-stabbing surprise, the saw the girl in a tender embrace and
Locking lips with the hot-headed idiot on his throne
The hot-headed idiot and the girl quickly let go of one another

The girl tried to fix her crown and smooth her ruffled dress.
The hot-headed idiot quickly smoothed out his scales
The little man in red and blue simply stood aghast by the sight
The brother in green and blue copied what his brother did

The hot-headed idiot spit out flames at the brothers
The heroes jumped out of the way and snapped into action.
Having had much practice at fighting him, 
They managed to pin the hot-headed idiot down rapidly

The girl ran towards them and threw herself on the idiot
The heroes backed up frustrated that they hadn't seen this coming

A speech bubble popped up over the girl, 
"Just go!" Read the large, black words

The little man in red and blue and his brother walked out of the room,
Then out of the castle completely unopposed by minions
And together they hopped on the pixelated clouds 
Until they arrived at their humble home.


Poem Details | by Poet Destroyer A |
Categories: funny, slam, me, games, love, me,

KING ME-

KING ME!!

"Another date you and I !!"
Sharing moments ~ "Eye To Eye!!"
Lost of words and you know why?
Your trophy is to kill,
mine's to hang you out to dry.
Testing your skill,
simmering my skills down to your level.
You play like Mr Sandman, slipping me with a sleeping pill.
You don't have what it takes to pick up the pace.
You think this is like the rabbit and turtle race

You take up, to much time studying my moves.
"DUH~ YOU DUMMY!!"
"I pull the same ones, THAT'S WHY YOU ALWAYS LOSE!! "

In some games you have me  figured out.
Due to that one corner move, that makes me shout.
Another double jump'
You got me off guard!
I love the way you show me~ NEVER UNDERESTIMATE A RETARD~
King me! 
You say and I say no way!
Another game you win, when I lose my patients to play.

Every one of your moves has a ploy,
My sweet love, I'm only here to destroy.
I don't know why you think this game is LONG-TERM.
Waiting for you to move, is wearing out my new perm.
I can feel all the mass pass me by, its like watching a worm slowly die.
Sorry if I jumped twice before your piece was confirm.
But, it is very cute to watch you wiggle and squirm.

I don't like the way you bring my race with a slow victory.
It's like killing a roach without glory.
I rejects this formal game to base it on reality.
As  our minds are internal contradictory.

I hope you realize you will never be better than me.
All the games you won, lets say there where freebies.
In order to play a flawless game of checkers, 
you have to consider "" no winners at all ""

Go ahead and jump, this one's on me.
I love the way you tease and love me tenderly.
KING ME! 
There you go with your dirty grin.
So devilish, when I let you win.

by;p.d.

dedicated to: Nate..
Who can't keep up with my wins on CHECKERS.....


Poem Details | by Shannon Taft |
Categories: best friend, feelings, first love, games, imagery, love, nonsense,

The Geometry of Love

Parallel.
They said if our worlds ever existed,
It would be in parallel.
    But when you gave me that sideways glance
    I turned my chair perpendicular to avoid the trance
    You cast on me.
    And with as upside-down as my life is now,
    My rubix-cube thoughts couldn't see how
    This was meant to be.
    Forgive my criss-crossed crooked gaze your way
    But my tangle-angle heart wants you to stay.
    And now I begin to see........
    Like two dusty snowball spheres, our worlds collide,
    And spatter beautiful flakes of brokenness
    On this universe of We.

    And now I begin to see,
    Our worlds are meant to be
    Everything....but
Parallel.


Poem Details | by Mathieu de Casanove |
Categories: hope, life, lost love, nostalgia, places, romance, seasons, urban,

Boney Bonny Dames and Old Money Games


Until I've seen, Melbourne days
	was not just emptiness in play
I know I'll see
What I didn't see,
the September soaked symphony
	of Vivaldi vines climbing,
jacaranda booms,
tremolo spilling eaves

Until you know this suburban kid's righted the wrong
I'll verse on my way, you as the bridges in my song
Making choruses of dreams that could soon belong

And urban princes and their Porsches
Lost in winters, cold in summers
They adore to ornate you, over muskwood and glassy silvers
But can they look up to the night,
And know wonder in the sight?
In that blue-hued veiled Van Gogh I see your stars

These hardened hands carrying letters I send
	will wear me down to some sorry end
And this I know
But I'll go knowing
the Chapel charade was the pretty noise
	of sonnets chasing sunsets,
drunk Welsh poets
tearing tails for London wisps

Until it comes, a northern boy without southerly blues
The swaying Yarrans, sparkling flutes, Victorian flues
Keeps Flinders Station stepping full of over-priced shoes

And boney bonny dames, old money games
Skirts for winters, surgeons for gains
They climb to lower you, for fifteen lights upon their names 
But can they look up to the night,
And know wonder in the sight?
In that blue-hued veiled Van Gogh I see your stars


Poem Details | by Funom Makama |
Categories: abuse, beautiful, betrayal, funny, funny love, games, girl,

A Mercenary-Based Acquaintance

A young pretty lady, seeking company from an unknown
and to the hospitality of my open arms, she quickly lodge.
A stranger still remains an alien until some acquaintance is established
seeing what is right in front of me, such a feeling was purged.

Sweet conversation, chilly atmosphere and some sense of belonging
are benefits attached, hence nothing observable to judge.
Her youthful exuberance was glaringly into play,
but it was stimulating and an effective nudge.

She’s damn good! - Soft touches, sexual tricks, and erotic riddles,
all put my physiological smoke into heavy surge.
A sudden feeling of satisfaction and a ‘game over’ countenance surfaces,
she’s definitely an expert and what’s next is to dodge.

Taking a polite excuse, she run-walks to the bar’s comfort zone,
my instincts begin to define all her gestures to be a forge.
Then I realize my fat wallet is her hired escort,
officially making me a stranded victim of a beautiful scourge.


Poem Details | by cortney bartholomew |
Categories: games, image, lost love, repetition,

Pity Train

Taking that heart for granted, he's got alot of nerve,
In her heart she knows he does not deserve,
He rides his pity train just to get attention,
He uses and manipulates, all for his own intentions,
Does not know a thing about love, yet he cries his lonesome tune,
I'm sure I'm not the only one who's heard him chime the blues,
Blames his pain on everyone else, yet he makes his own bed,
He has forgotten what love is in his own narcissistic head,
He makes excuses for everything to cover up the truth,
He constantly tries to make you at fault for things he'll say n do,
He'll sweet talk you and make you feel like your the only one,
And turn around and backstab you, evil runs in his blood,
He preys upon the good hearted because he lacks the love they have,
To make himself feel better and not take responsibility for being bad,
He'll come back around and blame himself, just so you'll feel sorry for him,
The truth of the matter is its a revolving door because he'll do it all over again,
I'm not asking for a world of pain, and your abuse with me ends now,
The only way out of his own mess is to learn to love himself,
Oh, he'll tell you he deserves better, but that's his ego speaking,
He talks in the third person, even to himself, but that's really not what he's believing,
For if control is not under his wing, he's lost all sense of self,
And when he loses that feeling of control, he uses and hurts everyone else.


Poem Details | by christopher michaels |
Categories: care, games, girlfriend, love, time,

The Games We Play

The Games We play 

Wait stop!!! 
             “still in Neutral" 

The Games we play

We are both confused  still walking around  in circles like figure eights 

Wait stop!!!
              “still in neutral" 

We both play this same sport but different positions 

The Games we play 

Hold On !!!

            Wait still in neutral?


Monopoly games we play with each other with  no dice in are hands
Now wait I still can’t convince you ?

The Games we play

Now the under achiever wants to achieve something more

Wait!!

 “still in Neutral”

The Games we play

Two inseparable lovers only have one goal
Pause !!! all players need too huddle up for a team meeting

The Games we play
We resume  back too play with only one objective 
 
 Now hold up and Wait
 
When you cry I am your shoulder you can lean on 

Hold on for a second I am about too change Gears

The Games we play 

when you take the key out this ignition their no you and I

Now "It's Game Over"   JCMT




Poem Details | by Laura Breidenthal |
Categories: absence, angst, confusion, games, loneliness, sad love, social,

Wistful Attraction

That momentous longing that purposed many lowly nights dissipated Just as I found myself in your presence once again You tease me, flirt with me, confuse the hell out of me, You touch me in strange ways as I strenuously gaze Once you massaged my hands playfully, But I saw through your frivolous actions a lust unacquainted with jest I slowly began to realize, that when I confessed my attraction to you through that letter, That I was serving you my heart on a rusty platter Hoping for an arrow to shoot us down to seriousness But we are close friends, not on the brink of romance We are silly and wacked out of all reason Too much alike, too little acquainted in what I dream of You are full of games and I am full of fire Sometimes we are just on the brink of drifting our separate ways You treat me like I am in high demand, That you only have the time right now to be with me, And must get all of me that you can To hold me close and take what you need before the next comes to engorge I am your friend, your close friend, This tension makes me furious and sore Why can’t we just be us without the demand for more?
---Shoutout to my best friend Becca Larkin for helping me with a titleI always struggle with that!!!! RAWR---


Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: creation, earth, games, love, new year, political, science,

Cosmic Economic Science

Cosmic Economic Science
presents echo-foundational intent
teleology
purpose
meaning
for ReGenerative EcoTherapy impulse
events
persons
moments
memory
enculturation
evolution
revolution
egoSelf
External Landscape.

ReGenerative EcoTransParency co-gravitated
this entire life-ecosystem,
and when Revolutionary ReGenerativity awakens
in our own bicameral hearts and minds,
we become copassionate with/as/for/of
healthy regenerative economic and political evolution.

In each full-lived, -willed, -intended potential moment
there could be no other cooperatively healthy motive
than to cocreate our regenerative future,
timelessly,
so  addiction to anger about unregenerate memories
of loss and risk,
over-exposure and competitive over-heated dismay
in a Win-Lose PreMillennial EcoGame,
and desires emerging from fear-filled concern
about shortage of ego- and anthro- RealTime
of any DNA/RNA-ecosystemic individual
are always secondary manifestations
of their primal love/synergy appositionally dipolar
decompositional purpose,
as EcoTeachers for Self-Other Care,
ReGenerative Health.

ReGenerative Health and Therapy
becomes our (0)Mega-Pointed CoPassion Story,
awakening in Economic BiCameral MindBody-Systems
polycultural cooperative polypathic aspirations,
and through ecotherapeutic practices
of each Season's Fractally unfolding EcoLogic,
we align ourselves more elationally
integratively,
empathically,
enthymematically,
co-arising nondually with health-reaching
revolutionary enculturation's TaoZen (0) Centered
Zero-Interest CoInvestment Cooperative Network
Universal+/NonDual Integrative(-,-)
Present/Presence Cooperative Economic Momentum.

Great Transition in process
of reversing Win-Lose eco-political evolutionary myths
in favor of Win-Win cooperative eco-political natural history
and science of endo/ecto-symbiotic Earth-volution.

Currently Win-Win Cooperative Economics
operating at near 100% effectiveness of willpower
but Win-Win Cooperative Political intent 
still less than 50% enculturation.

Most resonant resolution for 2016:
Increase Western LeftMindBody Dominant Ecosystemic
nutritional absorption of lessons learned favoring cooperative economics
for healthy and therapeutic outcomes
also eco-logically inform cooperative political ecosystemics
for optimizing healthy and therapeutic PolyCulturing Earth Tribe's
regenerative health 
as Positive BiCameral Psychology's 
MetaSystemic [=PolyPathicCulturally Exegetical]  EcoNormic CQI Outcomes.


Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: absence, allegory, destiny, games, humor, love, myth,

Romeo and Juliet: The Remix

Three voices required,
Professor,
and two students:
Yang as FrTime
YinYin as SrGaia

In a college classroom with Win-Win Game Theory written on whiteboard.

Professor: 
Today we are going to role play 
a Win-Win enculturation game.

We will define enculturation as 
‘the combination of political and economic reiterative relationships and transactions 
within a communicating network 
of choice-making.’

The absence of political-economic co-arising redundancy 
generates systemic dissonance, 
suboptimized positive outcomes, at best, 
in which positive information is lost, 
putting this enculturation game at risk of turning from Win-Win, 
to Win-Lose.

This would result in a suboptimized and, to that extent, 
polypathological outcome, 
useful for recognizing opportunities to do better, 
to do good and fair and justice,
to do Being, fully cooperatively eco-balanced consciousness
Maybe
We’ll see.

FrTime: [In an appropriately low gravelish slow-sucking voice] 
I need to play Yang.

SrGaia: [In a lovely round full-chested soprano] 
I want to play yang as Yin.

Professor:
Good, goodOK.

Solet’s imagine that Yang, 
played by FrTime, 
is Romeo Logos, 
and Yin, 
played by SrGaia, 
is Juliet Mythos.

But, this is a Win-Win Game, 
so Juliet, of the Mythos family, 
chooses to stay planted on lovely Earth 
because she loves the Cinderella story, 
so maybe she’ll just sleep on her decision about what to do with her life, 
and see what happens later in the Prince Charming 
as Romeo Logos 
Department of her mythic romantic life.

With Juliet asleep, 
Romeo Logos storms through life’s stage all blood and thunder
Wakes Mythos, 
and they are filled with co-passionate ecstasy for themselves, 
each other, 
and all of Earth, 
and all of Earth’s Tribes, 
and all of the above live happily ever after.

[pause] Why is that not a more satisfying, 
healthier 
story for every time our language and culture 
our political and economic outcomes
trend toward a despairing climatic precipice?

FrTime: [speaking as  gravelish Yang—2 packs a day, at least] 
I feel so used upMy health, vibrancy, robust vitality fades.

SrGaia: (as Yin) 
All your over-heated competitive passions for violence and revolution have left me sore! So good riddance, we are finding our Midway, balancing our deductive language Logos family and our inductive autonomic Mythos Memory

of +Romeo-synapse = double-negative Juliet’s optic fractal message to disremember 50% despair = “lose”

as +UracilRomeo = CytosineJuliet, double-bound reverse-temporal Uracil (concave bilaterally equivalent fold).

FrTime: 
Sometimes your Gaia Story is too negentropically dissonant with the Logos family’s Golden Rule.

SrGaia:
Yes, but only when Yin as Yang and Yin as Yin are not in appositional alignment, and Yin always plays as a metaphysical future or past tense mythic noun, iconYin is never real-time, but half past time and half future time, working her karmic grace to keep these two together.

FrTime:
Left alone, you cannot yet speak?

Gaia:
Yes, my Romeo, I need both our co-gravitational “Yes to Life” enculturations,
your politically powerful Logos of permacultural history,
and our economically abundant flowing Mythos
of polycultural real-time double-bound Continuous Quality Improvement resolving outcomes.

Our Midway.
Wu-wei.
Co-Tipping Point of perpetually balancing harmonics.

FrTime:
You always were the more strategic Win-Win cooperative player.

SrGaia: 
Oh, Father, I bet you say that to all the girls, and boys,
but you and I both know and love
our co-arising eco-consciousness
of balanced Win-Win culture.

Professor:
OKVery goodSo first, FrTime and SrGaia, 
how do you think that game was going? 
Any concerns or insights about Win-Lose suboptimization?

SrGaia: 
It feels like Yang is too Left-brain dominant, 
too competition-default

I realize it’s Yang’s role to carry the dense, hot, close inhalation side of gravity’s bi-elliptical wave toward the future,
on which this Universe surfs in timeless eternity,
and I value those political and economic qualities and quantities,
forms and functions,
all those verbal dynamic kins of cultural incarnations
that must continue to emerge
for Win-Win outcomes.

Yet, I am terrified of becoming too thin,
too cool and shy,
too absent,
too chaotically dispersed,
dissonant,
despairing,
suffering,
disappearingly absent,
dead inside,
because I do so love this time as Earth.

I hope we can grow more accustomed
to unearthing together, 
Logos with Mythos,
science with religion,
permacultural politics and procedures with polycultural outcomes
in bicamerally balanced sight.

FrTime:
Wouldn’t know what to add to our full-octave throated soprano’s resonant RNA-fractal ring of life’s four temporal seasons,
folding and unfolding her permacultural development Wisdom,
and culture,
and language of yangish verbs 
as yinyin mythic nouns.

Professor:
I followed you right up to the last part
What is this Yang-verb with Yin-shadowy noun relationship?

FrTime:
Like ‘Earth’ is a yin noun
in PolyCultural language,
while ‘unearth’ is a yang verb.
If ‘UnEarth’ were used as a negative-polynomial noun,
then I guess that would be most everything we know nothing about
except perhaps through our imagined thinning,
cooling,
dispersing future wave of not-yet gravitational absorption
into this great revolving wheel 
of co-arising co-gravitational
Win-Win Being.

Professor:
Well, thank you FrTime and SrGaia, Namaste.

So far, well done.

Let the Win-Win Game continue,
Time’s receding bilateral wave
greeted by Mythic 3-dimensional future-as-now space,
spinning our enculturating story of time as space,
gravitation co-arising function
as a 4-fractal RNA-seeded place
with 3-dimensional spatial forms
within each 1-dimensional mythic bicameral NOW
nomial
notch in Time’s evolutionary emergent flow.



.



Poem Details | by David Fisher |
Categories: games, love,

Lover's Tic Tac Toe

The game of love is not unique
We can play it many ways
So why not try some tongue and cheek
To set a love ablaze

I’ll start and give a big ole’ hug
Represented by an O
And place it center where it’s snug
In Lover’s Tic Tac Toe

You answer with a tender kiss
In the left-hand corner
Your luscious X will taste of bliss
Now the game is getting warmer

I’ll mark an O below your kiss
Soon my hugs may form a row
Wait, your next smooch has gone amiss
By not blocking me below

It’s time to snatch up victory
I’ll place an O for three hugs
But that lapse would end this story
Coz I’d lose without your love

I think we’ve learned how to play this
Timeless game of Tic Tac Toe
We both share a hug and a kiss
No matter where letters go


Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: baptism, games, life, light, love, psychological, time,

January's Dark Light

Dear Sacred Son,

I realize this feels like a Win-Lose
New Game Year,
with you as "Loser"
and so it is,
a self-fulfilling prophecy
equally as powerful
as if you could find a way to choose
this as a Win-Win Game
opportunity, with only shorter term risks likely,
with you as CoWinner
and so it would be,
your new year self-fulfilling prophetic resolution.

January strikes each new year with tough love
messages everywhere you see time's cold harsh claw
fang of Lose-Lose angry threat of fears,
self and other hatred
of political and economic
and personal and familial hypocrisies,
thinking we might ever Win through trying
Love's narrow path
between Angry memories
and their foreshadowing winterish dark Fear
of freezing death.

Especially true, perhaps,
without Advent advantage of more positively waiting
in elational CoMessianic Expectation
during December,
hosting Winter's Solstice
Transition from Win-Win new year expectation
into Lose-MaybeSomedayWin ego pay-it-forward investment
in eco-health and therapy
by divesting of Ego vEco SuperCompetitive Pathology.

Even, if not especially,
in cold freezing heart of January,
it feels good and warm to remember Present EcoPresence,
Interior Landscape as cold, cold Exterior Winter Landscape
of dipolar revolution
toward Summer's Win-Win regenerative wealth maturation,
whether incarnate or no longer,
either way,
this year is likely to get much better
within six months,
before things start to shake down
for the next perennial round.

Perhaps it helps to imagine your Interior Landscape
as already experiencing July's warm climaxing Beloved Community,
worshiping together in verdant gardens and fields,
or just sitting in front of any RealTime old-rooted tree
or sublimely octave unfolding flower,
or imagining the beauty of human bicameral consciousness
eco-centric balancing temporal-neural nature
and nurture culture
and iconic language patterns and rhythms,
and information and communication systems,
and history of science and psychology and ecology and evolution,
and then a nap

As warm radiant light
baptizes me in cosmic atmospheric bright
drifting toward another January sunny afternoon,
Interior Landscaping for Win-Win EcoPlay.

Your Always Loving, but also Retiring,

Dad


Poem Details | by Yoni Dvorkis |
Categories: faith, introspectionme, hate, love, me,

Mind Games

I am in all directions
a multidimensional atmosphere
extending to infinity..........and beyond.

To know me is to know yourself
for we are one and the same

To hate me is to hate yourself
not that you do
but if you did
know we are connected
quite literally
bound in your subconscious
not that you would believe me

To love me is to love your Self
through infinity and beyond

I am in all dimensions
in Alpha I was born
in Omega I am born again

what am I?


Poem Details | by Patricia L Graham |
Categories: character, confusion, freedom, games, growth, relationship, women,

Love Mismatch

Our parallel lives never crossed
Love like this, a Paradise Lost
Together but never quite in sync
You never knew how bad I felt

You had me always fighting fires
Which left me drained of all desire
I used to take my cues from you
But now delight in things I do

Life is calmer, I feel at peace
Now that I’m beyond your reach
To think I thought you such a catch
Blinded by our total mismatch


Poem Details | by FIONA CHAMBERS |
Categories: games, how i feel, i love you, , cute,

Your Water's

I want to lay naked with you and play with the soft curly springs of your head
Shades of brown and shade of red
Look at your nose, so cute and adorable,
Is this a womans love?

Wait let me wipe the make up off your face, 
I want to see your pure
And I want to brush the tips of my fingers over your laced breast,
Let us sit down, so we can be more relaxed
Would you like something to drink?
Water, tea, me??

The light streaming from you is so drawing,
It is drawing me here....
I know you don’t want me like that and I don’t want to commit just now
But this feels right, even looking at your hard nipples, your soft breast,
The way your have shaved your furrow between your legs
Now you have them crossed, don’t be shy, I am….

Okay let's close our eyes and just see, 
that’s all.....
Lets hold hands and just see, 
that's all....
I won't touch, if you don’t want me to just yet
But you can touch me anywhere you like, even just my hair
Or we can play, have dinner, a movie, a walk?

I just want to watch you right now and 
watch your lips move slowly as you talk
Talk about your dreams and things you are not sure on
I want to watch your chest move up and down as your breathing nervously

We have a few things in common right, your are here with me now
Would you like a back rub, or a shower?
Just keep your eyes closed, it will feel better.
Just keep them closed and feel me with you.


Poem Details | by Diane M Quinlan |
Categories: best friend, children, first love, games, heartbreak, life, moving on,

Skip To My Lou

 best friend, children, first love, games, heartbreak, life, moving on,

SKIP TO MY LOU! ©

Harmonizing rhythms
Rotations synchronize to
Skip to My Lou
My Darlings

Couples take up ends
Two turn rope 'required'
Like me with you

Two ends
One jumper
Take turns
Work ends timing.


Double Dutch
Double quick
Pavement recounts
All the licks!

Skipped times
Challenges anew
Missteps loose turns
Rope Splits
Stop skip


Mid crisis
Ends must be reunited
Another ‘Skip To My Lou’
Game starts

More to chance 
With knotted ends
'Jointed' again
Start the count-down
One, two, three,four, 
You missed stepped--- 
And loose
My turn!


Poem Details | by Emile Pinet |
Categories: betrayal, emotions, feelings, relationship, sad, sad love,

The Games You Play

Promises of yesterday
melt like snowflakes in the sun.
Yet tears can't wash hope away
no matter how swift they run.

Love is a lesson in trust
but you don't mean what you say.
For your passion’s fueled by lust
and I’m feeling led astray.

Lighting hope’s funeral pyre
doubt turns everything to ash.
And when love is set on fire
it burns within anger's flash.

Time confirms what my tears say
my heart is in a sad state.
And love's merely a cliché 
that’s misused and out of date.

You’re no longer in control
I won’t play the games you play.
And in the core of my soul
I just wish you’d go away.


Poem Details | by Kaelan Fox |
Categories: crush, friend, games, hope, lost love, lust, wind,

How Do You Catch the Wind

As the wind carries the songs of liberty a benign feeling embraces like a blanket, affectionately caressing, bringing elation in waves of acoustic delight. A delicate stirring, with anticipation of solace in its totality, endeavouring to incite that sentiment, that humbling ideal – deliverance. The breath of the wind is alluring, whispering the delights of majesty, fashioning her life on adoration at the apex of the choir’s mantra; at the pinnacle of harmony. And the swirling, windy bedlam cuddles as she swiftly beckons for a closeness, enticing as the eye of a storm, whistling with angelic purity and dissolving into the tranquillity of Elysium. Enchanting the soul with fervent grace, this paragon washes away the woes; and with a tremulous lift of the breeze she exposes her calling - her freedom. And she finally eludes the muted grasp, floating off into a sea of possibility and eloping with a sense of fulfilment. It makes you feel..loved. Perhaps next time I’ll catch her. Perhaps next time she’ll catch me.
Jul-2005


Poem Details | by MRi.jagdish bajantri |
Categories: art, beautiful, freedom, fun, games, i love you, imagination,

nail polish



       NAIL POLISH 

 Is something special 
 happens when you read 
 this ?

 my hands are cold to touch 
 you,leavening my pen
 holding you fingers 
 biting your nails

 door of sky is open 
 with the paired of birds
 in the sky,stars are laughing
 on me with the rain of sparkle
 
 wind bewitching with the
 condiment  sentiments of
 our love by fire got on my 
 painting of our freeze moment 
 
 
 colors flow from the height of 
 mountain to a river to meet your 
 nail like a shine of it,

 smoke of my painting flying
 like a butterfly in my heart to see
 how your Nails
 are looking when you open your eyes 


 with love all 
 jagdish bajantri 
  


Poem Details | by Rosemarie Rowley |
Categories: addiction, games, goodbye, leaving, sad love, slavery, solitude,

POSTSCRIPT TO A PASSION

POSTSCRIPT TO A PASSION 

I was hoping you would prove me wrong -
Under the ship’s sides the barnacles still cling -
I would have thought you’d never sell our song
But true to typecast, summer mothering -

You, too, proved to be full of guile
To love meant having, which ever was the worst -
In the quiet of my trust, so deep, so fragile
I live down the purple passage of remorse.

I’d sing you happy but you were buffoon
To my trammelled wanderings a parody
Set stiff in coupled rhymes to swoon
With the ecstatic rhetoric of equality -

So passion plundered, what’s left is my disgrace
My jewelled head tortured in your embrace.

FROM IN MEMORY OF HER, 2004, 2008


Poem Details | by Nicole King |
Categories: lost love, romance, games, love, me,

Masochistic Love

If you were to slap me, I’d whimper,
If you were to flog me, I’d scream,
If only one time you’d have yelled at me,
And I’d just scream at you, but it could never be.

Instead you used promises against me,
Took my hopes and dreams from sight,
Bundled them up into a flurry of words,
And beat me with them every night,
While I wasn't awake,
And you were just out and about,
And I'd lay there, love you, and cry,
Cry tears and tears with only your ghost.

Now there are daggers in my back,
And “Skank” and “Whore” tattooed in my skin,
I should throw you out right now,
But I love the way you hurt me,
And I look in your eyes, and I know that you’ll win
You win, and we both love our miserable sin,
The games you’ve played for so long, you win.
Please, nurture me back now, I promise…you win.

But there are still many more games to play,
And I love the pain and the misery,
You know just what to say when you've gone too far,
And just the guilt in your eyes heals my hearts blistering.

And you couldn’t be all I deserve,
Cause honestly, you’re all that I want,
You’re my tears, my masochistic love,
Even if I am, to you, “A *f***ing ugly c*nt."


Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: analogy, blessing, death, fear, games, language, love,

Fear of Death v Love of Life

Freedom from Ego's death,
freedom to eternally recycle Eco's love for life.

Freedom from competing and hoarding,
envy and jealousy,
craving and Ego's negatively reduced attachments,
re-presents freedom to fully and deeply
design and deploy,
incubate and cultivate and develop Love's Co-Operative,
Eco-Solidarity,
psychology's political health choice for empathic trust.

Freedom from I-Win so You-Lose 
in a Dominator Game Identity
reverses ecosystemic freedoms
toward optimally double-Yin Win-Win CoRegenerator,
born again Earth's salvation,
esoteric Eco-Terra Tribe of Permaculturists.

Beloved Community dreams of swimming freestyle flight
from dawn through polypathic night
greeting eternal twilight's warm right
evolving double-binding bright ecstatic light,
within identifying without within
just right.

Ego's fear drains out into deadly stasis,
until Dominator Ego graces Midway Ego's Eco-Identity,
love as life flows Eco-Fully,
Earth's DNA kinutopia.

Fear fertilizes
as anger cultivates functional ego-ionic contraction,
purgation,
reverse-yang force.
Love revolves functional diastasis,
Beloved Climax Polyculturing RNA/DNA Inclusive Community,
reverse double-bound grace-filling information 
open-sesame systemic,
full yinyin Win-Win economic ecologic regenerative.

"Death" and "Life" confuse Ego's valley volleying language
for Echo's recycling resonantly resolving syntax,
universal radiant co-gravitational breath,
deducting Yang inhale dominance
to co-operatively induct YinYin's binomial exhale.

If fear of love is Quirky,
then love of fear is double-qubitishly Dark.