Game Poems

Game poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of game poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on game are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!

Life Is A Funny Game

Life Is A Funny Game short poem

Life is a funny game, yet it remains never the same, Winning here is a chance of fame, and losing a mere shame, We learn to fall, to win, and to rise, Facing each day with a new surprise, And

Love is a Game

Love is a Game short poem

Walking there on those roads, you were coming with someone else… Its funny how life unfolds, even the best of the efforts fail…! How quickly you moved on, while I still am where I was before… All by myself, alone,

Body Game

Body Game short poem

Alone to witness the crash I invited the moon to walk with me on the harsh terrain of the agony of a poem, I wanted to give it as a collateral for a shadow, who has moved away from me.

The Game Of Love

The Game Of Love short poem

The game of love Some play with other hearts Yet they end up alone without excuses And when they realize they lost their whole lives Time cannot go back and fix the mess And so they go looking for another

This Side Of Game

This Side Of Game short poem

The world has shrunk. Have sex in half-black bipartisan calculations. Ripping apart, no body was naked inside the costume. I was too wakeful under the ventilator. They were killing me methodically. It was theatrical. White gowns and blue gowns. Only

At The Big Game

At The Big Game short poem

Last week I went to see the big game. And everyone was there. The N’gina family from 2 doors down, The Cheng family from across the street, The guys I see going to the mosque sometimes, The ladies who always

The Game

The Game short poem

If the game were to have what we wanted All the time, with each impulse, and when With the waits infinitesimal heartbeats So you get what you want, with no pain Without leaping, or jumping, or running Without straining, or

Love: A game?

Love: A game? short poem

Caged in the cobwebs of the past Surrounded by the tall stalagmites of blames Lying uneasy on betrayals amassed Is A vulnerable soul for whom love was no game. Splinters of Lies that hurt and bled Trust shattered, Malice brought

A Secret Game

A Secret Game long poem

She wants to be remembered, A chant, a whisper, a name, She thinks to herself that if she really shut her eyes, Would the world notice she is gone? All the she hears are raindrops against the roof The rustling

Poems you will love


The Shuttling Heart!!!

The Shuttling Heart!!! short poem

The Moment you walk in with the shuttle racket; My deserted street welcomes with a bouquet!!! Along with the cork, you bring liveliness too here; As you settle to serve, the winds obey your move!! I see you there… Busy

‘Quarter Past’ To ‘Quarter To’

Quarter Past To Quarter To long poem

I went for dinner; she came on a date… Waited for her until a quarter past eight… She walked in, looking like a million dollar, Anyone else would’ve known, but I’m no scholar… She ordered for some strawberry and wine,

In My Flesh

In My Flesh short poem

Like most men in the past, Death eludes my ample frame. Though he strikes up Fascinating conversations, Helping me soar to newer Flights of fantasy. Sometimes he watches me From across the table as I empty Satches of caramelised sugar

The Wasteland Limericks

The Wasteland Limericks short poem

The world it was changed with aplomb, When they let loose the nuclear bomb. After living in fear For many a year, Now it’s time to leave Vault 101. But fighting the bandits is hell, When your shotgun does run

Chessboard

Chessboard short poem

dark matters are floating like bowls made of leaves spilling hunger, make me upset, figures moving like ghosts wrenching out the fish plates from rails, nothing will move now except the eyebrows of stone faces, bodhisattvas sitting in scorching sun,

What Kind Of God Would Treat Us This Way?

What Kind Of God Would Treat Us This Way? prose poem

What kind of God would treat us this way? In mankind the wide spectrum between evil to good can be found. In some, such kindness, while in others a wickedness not to be believed is in play. The ancients believed

Funny composition

Funny composition short poem

Two souls come near Without feeling any fear Think about no other Including father and mother Sister and brother May often offer Little help In getting letters Replies are sent later Love game is in swing But it is in

Flight

Flight short poem

Whirling discus thrower controlled precision, spinning presence concentrated energy coiled awareness for that one release Watcher sees and knows at the moment of letting go this one will be good same dynamic for shot putter, javelin thrower conscious complex actions

Hot Southern Nights

Hot Southern Nights prose poem

During the time before television came to our home, My dad sat there in his car on a dark Southern night. And I was somewhere close by, enjoying a wonderful Game of Major League Baseball on the radio. O, there

Futurity

Futurity short poem

The show is on. Sedition will play with death now. Deceitful black knives, white gloves. No hope, battle lines are drawn. The wasps are whirring at a furious speed stings ready to inject venom. Bronzed body, huge turbaned skull. Eyes

Poems containing references to : Game

Life Is Not A Guess

Life Is Not A Guess short poem

Life is not a guess, neither taking up of a stress; It’s a divine beauty, to respect it is our duty; Whatever may be the conflict, you need to face: It’s not a race, so slow down your pace. Live

Amazing How The Time Flies

Amazing How The Time Flies prose poem

Amazing how Time elapsed Just yesterday it seems I was playing with other kids in the sand To day I see myself coughing and trembling at the dust of the sand I feel I am not even a competitor to

Cartographers of Consciousness

Cartographers of Consciousness long poem

The train has already departed, From the country that they call yesterday, Into the territories uncharted, Leaving behind the remains of the day. Leaving behind the sobbing hills and churches, And nurseries full of sighing, And forests of ashen pines

Woman

Woman prose poem

When I was a young man I chased them by the score. They were fast, young and lean. Conquest was my aim, seduction was the game. Procreation, I was playing with biology’s rules. I cared very little about much more.

A Fetus Speaks

A Fetus Speaks long poem

How sweet the Autumn breeze Wafting from my window Before this Winter freeze I could see skies are blue; But how would I to know Or how will I In truth, I lie Even as poets do, Saying life is

14th January – A day never forgotten

14th January   A day never forgotten short poem

This day is here again, Its the same one as before… Yet completely different in itself, By just a few contradicting things… Feelings had bloomed, After a long unending winter.. I yearned for a companion, And found you along the

Untitled

Untitled short poem

You charm me It’s all about the tricks you play Tickling my feet Splashing my hair I laugh You whisper We dance You mesmerize me How you never stop your little game, Six hours here Six hours there Back and

Father Figure

Father Figure short poem

The clouds, would give us no clue. Miles around, seemed abandoned… Do you ever miss us, glance down? Ever Wonder on how days pass by, here. It’s been a while, we heard mama say.. Life shallow, and she in her

Paradox Of Comparisons

Paradox Of Comparisons short poem

People who live all their lives observing others often amuse me.. Here is a poem to such… A happy neighbor causes such to go green, A sad neighbor may easily be demeaned… A rich neighbor may be the one in

A Zillion Wonderful Things

A Zillion Wonderful Things short poem

I hid that first poem from everyone But you read it in my eyes You taught me to love my books And smile with every sunrise I don’t understand this world I would crib and ask you why “You will

Invoking The Rain Gods

Invoking The Rain Gods prose poem

Come month of May And the sultry summer is here With all its fire and fury In full swing . Like an unwanted guest It arrives with no invitation And continues staying unduly Despite the hosts’ displeasure . Equipped with

The Feather On The Trigger

The Feather On The Trigger long poem

It’s just a way of life said the man with the gun, you win it or you lose it when all’s said and done. But the odds and the favour can be tipped over here by a winning smile from

Plastic Times

Plastic Times short poem

The times we live in…. Hungry urchins with big eyes.. Mugshots of them, liked by so many… No food tho’ in their sight, As they trudge along, for a miracle. It’s worth talking about, and long scoops. But then, it’s

I Smiled At Death And Held His Hand

I Smiled At Death And Held His Hand short poem

When I was born, so was death. He awaits my last breath. I would be death’s thorn. Each morn I trilled, and eye balled him. Told him death be a sin, and his thoughts he must kill. Time scurried, passing

Miss Fortune And The Poet

Miss Fortune And The Poet long poem

If only I had a döppelgänger, I’d peacefully live my life of languor, Entirely at my own sedated pace, For me he’d run with rats of human race. Then, entirely at my own leisure, I could entertain my simple pleasures

What was that dream?

What was that dream? long poem

What was that dream A colour so strange Never felt before Which neither keeps me awake Nor let me sleep Compelling me out of myself Each moment And I stand perplexed With a fractioned heart Restless, Entrapped, Behind those walls

A Realization

A Realization short poem

Where do fly my prying eyes Like a pair of rustic birds ?! Where the breeze and lily leaves Playing game of hide and seek, Where the glossy twinkle stars Wearing anklets and bangles, Where the pretty fairy queens Weaving

Seemingly Snowing

Seemingly Snowing short poem

In good old days I built adobe houses for each memory but then came flooding, freezing and again flooding even the scarecrow’s shirt discolored in our orchard with red apples However you still ask me what happened, how do I

How To Kill The Soul In 10 Years

How To Kill The Soul In 10 Years long poem

My mother should be an author She carves her soul into millions of pieces Leaving it behind in all of the family photos When I see my mother I see a woman Who wants to hide her soul in a

Stay. And complete me.

Stay. And complete me. prose poem

I’m watching us in my mind’s eye bound together like thunder and lightning to get away from the world and into secret places We’re gushing alive flaming flickering love bursting born leaving nothing to chance until we fade out. Then…

Random Musings

Random Musings short poem

Something lies dead here. Something, that until yesterday Was the source of all Beauty, Whose warmth dimmed Every shadow of loss And sedated pain. What it was, I cannot say- Perhaps it was love, Or an idea or a belief

Dying Wish…

Dying Wish... long poem

I remember the day that they stopped the clock, The day they told me your time had been bought, “We’ll make him comfortable”…those dreaded words, If there’s a “comfortable” way to die it’s absurd! I’d armed myself with so many

The Corpse

The Corpse short poem

There lies the corpse and the game is over, who won and who lost doesn’t matter because scavengers are closing in and before they pounce on the dead, it has to be removed so that we can at least have

November nights

November nights short poem

When the night train leaves the terminal, It’s body cold as a corpse, It’s lights alive as chickens in The butcher’s cage, I sit bunched up in my Flea market shawl beside the closed windows. I play that game of

Semantic Hide n’ Seek

Semantic Hide n Seek short poem

Granted that I say, What I always needed to; That the words on which I play, Might not seem like a game to you. That the lyrics my brain And tongue spit out Should not come to strain, And I

The Ballad Of Bessy

The Ballad Of Bessy ballad

Bessy now pulls the cart towards their home that day Her size makes pulling baby carts as mere child’s play She’s huge, a Labrador, obtained from Russian friend Trained by cop, we’ll call Tim – that isn’t his real name

April Green

April Green short poem

I sat at the table with rotted drawers scribbling the April green drawing spirals with a French curve when sunshine was there drawing straight angles with the set square because clouds were needed too I learned flowers’ shapes by heart

Winner

Winner short poem

Just a random thought came. Words of praise recognising my name. My body rushing to the Hall of Fame. But now I realised I was in a game; a game in a dream to blame. Maybe? Maybe …… the dream