Dealing with Life’s Poker Games

The Food Yogi 0 Comments

June 20, 2012

A poem for all the single men who have had their heart broken or have been disrespected.

I stand my ground — and claim my rights,

to discard all disrespect and petty fights,

to raise the bar — of honor and dignity,

and not degrade myself through false humility.

Yes, there’s a time to shine — through subservience,

but now — is not a time to acquiesce.

When your heart’s been torn — and reputation aced,

it’s time to kick those “jokers” square in the face!

Honor yourself — honor your life,

Didn’t you learn that lesson from your ex-wife?

Don’t look behind — while pointing ahead,

make progress from your past mistakes, instead.

Take those fine-cut “diamonds” — of Karma’s law,

and hastily add them to your final score.

Let them mature in spades — and impress their will,

until life sunsets — and your lessons are nil.

Keep your “cards” held tight — to your broad chest,

like the poker pro — who knows when’s best …

to raise the stakes — or sit and wait,

or when to act vulnerable — or when to berate.

Assaulting that table with your winning hand,

as the crowd roars loudly from the adjoining stand.

“He bet the house,” one spectator calls,

“Yes,” says another … “He’s got balls.”

Yes, there is a time to bow out — and lower your hand,

when you know you’re beaten and cannot command …

the respect you deserve — when your feelings are hurt,

So now is not the time — to bet your shirt!

When the “tells” are clear — and you get a “heads up,”

thank the Gods — there’s still “red wine” in your “cup.”

The “blood of the Lord” coursing through your veins,

as you drink your losses and count your gains.

Join the club of self-worth — it’s open to all,

Membership is free — unless you fall …

to the fallacy of questioning — your place at the table,

So sit tight on your chair — and act like Clark Gable.

Stand strong like a King — and act like a man.

Life’s game’s not over — please understand.

You’re a winner, a gentleman — and a beacon of light,

you know when to “fold ’em” — and when to “fight.”