April 16 NaPoMo 2021

[CRNDLSM]

Rules: Write a poem for national poetry month on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for National Poetry Month.

NaPM April 16, 2021

Topic: write a poem based on a game (board, card, video, etc.)

Form: any

Line Requirement: at least 8

---

'Hey dad, where are you going?'
'I don't know what I'm doing!'
'Stop running that way! Follow
me, I'll show you something cool. Oh!
Look out those things will kill you!
Dad! Dad!  Ahh Look out!' 'Will you
stop shouting for a minute??!!'
'Sorry!  I just want you to win it.'

[TranquillityBase]

I set up a Civil War game
three color map, 2000 counters.
It was July 1, 1863,
I marched the gray counters of the 42nd Mississippi,
including William Bluford Holland, my great great grandfather,
along with the rest of Davis and Archer’s brigades
up Chambersburg Pike towards Gettysburg
and ran into the blue counters of Devin’s New Yorkers
with their breech-loading carbines.

We pushed them off  the forested bluff  hexes of Herr Ridge
at a cost of over 900 men,
but Union reinforcements were arriving,
and they had another nice set of ridge hexes to defend.
I looked at WBH, he looked at me,
we saw where this was going.

He was destined to die
from a stray bullet on Sunday, July 4
after the carnage had ended,
after surviving Pickett’s charge the day before,
before Lee’s retreat.
I thought the first day’s slaughter
might make him amenable
to walk out of the game with me,
but he shook his head and turned back.

I had no heart to play
God any more that day, 
And put the game away.




(mmore than 8 lines, so Sioux me )

[Mark A Becker]

The Final Score

Down to the final tock
    rushing up
out of clock
    lashing lastsecond shot
screaming crowd leaping up
    flash of white curling net
goal keeper clutching
    at air

[Tiger the Lion]

The Small Blind and the Big Blind

Dad used to have a pack
of nudie playing cards
reserved with a bottle of cognac
and box of Cuban cigars
for when my uncles came.

The Friday after my mother found
the ten of diamonds
tucked between 
my mattress and box spring
father lost eighty bones
chasing an impossible hand.

[Keith]

I haven’t got a Cluedo how I got here

Heavy rain washed over the wiper blades
the car juddered to a halt, steam rising
from the radiator like a Roman spa.
As I looked around for any sign of help, lightening
flashed across the silhouette of large
foreboding house set back from the road.

I started the 60-yard dash, coat over my head.
The solid oak of the front door gave a dense thud
as I banged three times. It opened before the fourth
“come in Reverend” said a well-placed butler
“We’ve been expecting you”, I was about to say
you have me mixed up with someone else,
when I saw my reflection in a large ornate mirror,
I run my finger inside the white collar
that had appeared around my neck.

I was ushered into the Library
sat down on an old chesterfield.
“May I take your coat” asked the butler
exchanging if for a large silver dagger.
“My cars broke down” I said in a distant voice
looking at my reflection in the blade.
“Can I introduce you to Mrs. Peacock”
he said as he left the room.

She strutted in, all her finery and
feathers interlaced with her dress,
“hello reverend how lovely to meet you again”,
I saw the candlestick behind her back,
her eyes burning with a dark madness.
In a flash she lunged towards me,
candlestick high above her head.
I instinctively stood up and raised my arms
causing her to run onto the dagger.
Its sharp blade sliding into her torso,
as the madness drained from her eyes
she tried to tell me something.

I collapsed at the sight of blood
and came-round in thin white room
that smelled like a dusty old envelope
with just the dagger and a sign that said Library.
As I scanned the walls, trying to find a door
I began to panic.
I could hear voices outside
giant footsteps each one called out by its number
I could hear names, rooms and weapons
being listed in different orders.

Then someone mentioned the dagger,
its blade glisten as it spun round
standing on its tip in perfect balance.
Next the Library sign jumped to attention
as if waiting for further instruction.
Then I heard the words “Reverend Green”
the paper-thin walls of the room
fell apart in a blinding white light
and I was stood outside again
back with my car in the pouring rain
blood dripping from my shaking hands.

[Leaf]

Aged 13, 11 and 8,
the bros and I played
Amcom's FORTRESS;
it had come free
with Dad's Micro User magazine.

Soon, Dad regretted
allowing us to play,
as we got a bit hyper
piloting our starfighter
over enemy defences
and trying to destroy HQ --

me on A and Z
A. on < and >
and G. in the middle
bashing on the space bar;
   MIND THE KEYBOARD!
Dad would implore.

We didn't, though,
so he took to hiding the disk
   first on top of a bookcase
   then in a kitchen cupboard
   even in the garage for a while

until playing 'Hunt the Disk'
became more entertaining
than any computer game.

[dukealien]

Great Game


Used to work with some guys
who’d play the game of “Risk” (tee-em)
loudly at all hours – “high-speed Risk,”
they called it.

Board game – you know, map
of the world with markers representing
armies, fronts, colored by nations
invading, retreating, drafting forces
continent to continent
sea to sea.  Kept us up at night

in our part of the bunker, echoing.
Then in the morning
they’d get up (as would we) and sometimes
preflight their bombers model bee-fifty-two
verifying each contained its load
of fuel and intercontinental maps and nukes
ensuring that no one mistook
the Great Game for Risk (tee-em).