home of cards || spoken word poetry

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i never learned how to play my cards right

but aren’t there thousands of games
one could play with a deck of cards?

the difference between your game and my game
is that mine isn’t bs

this is… not a game!
are the words that i exclaimed
as our lives erupted into
magical melodrama last monday

this is not a game because
i’ve dropped all my cards
all my hearts and diamonds and lucky numbers
and i’m revealing them way too early on for this to be fair
because now you know exactly where to strike
with your spades and your clubs

a lot can happen in 52 weeks
almost as much as in 52 seconds spent with 52 cards
and 52 hands that crave the jayus touch of laminated cardstock
so when i reached down to pick up my supernova
i returned from the ceiling
arms trembling under the weight of antimatter

now for the next deck of years
i’m on an expedition to find
my long lost attributes
lingering in the pockets of others

this is the most fascinating game i’ve ever played
because nothing has ever felt more real…

finding your missing pieces in other people
that the cards just happened to be dealt to

when i first learned the word “sonder”
i wrote it in metallic gel pen on my wrist
because it was the most numinous experience
i had ever recognized within ourselves

sonder,
if i’m an extra in your movie
i’m that bad actress that stares
directly into the camera

when i first met you,
you thought i was crazy
(and i know this because you told me)
yet you let me drag you into my lengthy titles
and in return,
you made sure i never wrote a cliche line
ever again

so here we are
standing in the downpour
even though it’s raining
armadillos and alpacas

but even in years of drought
we run through thorn thickets
until we get swept away by the current

and after a tacenda dripping with musicality
we buried summer in our hometown park

“forget me not” is the perfumey remark
as we tumbled down the hill of amaranthine flowers
watching our halcyon selves play guessing games

but it’s those daybreak moments of opia
when our phosphenes dance in synchronization
especially when you’re face to face with a stranger
that feels no stranger than your reflection in the mirror

i was reminiscing of the first grade
when i saw you smile at someone with just your eyes
it was so familiar that i wrote a poem about it
then so unexpectedly this kid painted my words on the damaged concrete
“we’re all so connected”
and i realized the miracle of serendipity
to have fallen in love with your orenda

in the end it comes down to you and me
nevermind that the cards are stacked against us
our home is made of intricate connections
and improbable balance
and holes in walls
and paint in every color of the rainbow
and roof tiles that pitter pat pat in the rain
and doors that don’t always lock right
and crayolas spilling onto the floor
and countless spare bedrooms because we’re always open to company
this is my home and i want you to be a part of it
this is my home
and i wouldn’t want it any other way

when i collect back my deck of cards
it is shuffled in a way the universe has never seen before
do you realize how phenomenal this is?

i’m playing my cards just right
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key words: poetry, spoken, spoken word, slam poetry, cards, deck, 52, connections, people, videography, editing, film, cinema, opia, tacenda, sonder, amaranthine, halcyon, music, home, heart, phenomenal, unique, social, universe, supernova, love, friendship, memories

#spokenwordpoetry