My115thDream

Poem - "The Ace, the Joker, and I"

Let’s cut the deck, shall we, and see what we find,
An Ace with a hand as sharp as his mind,
That’s a tough one to beat, for chance is so blind,
One rarely uncovers a card of this kind.
An eye for beauty adorns his young face,
His feet can run down what dreams he may chase,
These dreams he keeps in a carrying case,
Its burden apparently slows not his pace.
With an ace to my left what more could I need?
His presence is powerful and potent indeed,
But then to my right, without warning or heed,
Silently sitting atop a milk-white steed,
There appears a Joker with a crown on his head,
Stolen in a land he has many times fled,
I could cry on his shoulder but I laugh instead,
He appears to me now while others left him for dead.
With a knowing nod devoid of a sound,
Three pairs of feet land on uncharted ground,
Staking our claim on the soul’s lost and found,
Battered and bruised by the end of each round.
The Joker and Ace on an organ are playing
Something somebody somewhere should be saying,
Lost in the dark and solemnly straying,
Collecting on what cowards are constantly paying.
In range but exchanging the bow for a pen,
Three pairs of hands set in motion again,
Mirrored by muses of long-dead men,
Pausing to listen to the breeze now and then.
We care not about our critics or peers,
For they fail to follow what they find in their fears,
Their wills waste away as they count off the years,
So fast do they flee at the first falling tears.
But I with the Joker and Ace right beside me
Refuse to fold when things don’t wrap up tidy,
Many times have they come and untied me
From the ropes of the hopes that this world has denied me.
Through the chaos and carnage that chisel away,
Through the grudges and guilt that we knew wouldn’t stay,
Through the times when all we could do was pray,
Three sets of dreams remain strong to this day.