Love at the Roulette Wheel Dealer cashes in all love has, you think youíve picked the right number, watching the wheel go round.† Thinking about slim odds and the red and black spinning in a hypnotic way entrancing you close to discomfort, like working under a heat lamp; close to contentment, like sleeping in paradise. A knight fixated on his life of honor, marching into a double edged sword, everything to lose. Stabbing a vein in attempt to reach the summit of the first high, everything to gain. and when the mountain canít be obtained, framed only in the form of a picture for sentimental moments, the gamble drops you from the cliffhanger. Lost like a broken car in the middle of the desert, you live there forever.† A ghost surviving after a violent crash giving away the only seat with an airbag to the one thing you love. Breathless air at the top has the best view, knowing that the hand will always be there to hold. Like an old blanket always there for you, and imagination couldnít lead to wanting any other blanket to wrap the soul tightly, sleeping in a dream forever. Like a love struck millionaire knowing that he really does have everything. The wheel is rolling, the odds when betting on double zero stand as tall as all of the chips sitting on one long shot bet.† You stand deaf to all noise and excitement and blind from visions of mountains and millionaires. The ball bouncing and skipping through all colors, the wheel seems to spin forever.
Eric Tang's Questions:
Do the analogies make sense and flow well with each other?
ive reworked this poem several times and the flow of analogies still
Does it seem like the gambler is drifting off in thought like I intended, or does it seem just wordy?
Rollercoaster Days Dance them along one by one let Ďem roll, I say like waves, perfect to ride rush of nature to push me somewhere next to the sun would be nice get a good look at the world Iím about to dive into. Then drop me like a rock on its last skip through the water up the stream into the mountain realizing how it all began. Call in a cloud 9 taxi I want to ride straight to the thunderstorm, driver starts the fare and Iím off to take part in a tornado spinning me back to yesterday stopping with a skid. Break an old pattern of thought just to do it again.
Eric Tang's Questions:
For some reason repetitive words bother me, and by me saying this you'll
probably notice and bother you too.† but the word "to" seems to be used
many times. does anybody feel that's a problem?
Does the poem seem too vague and simple?
I wanted it to move quickly, does it?