Ball Out Of Play

There’s a game that people play but I don’t get it;

it’s called take offence when none intent is there.

I’ve seen it all, enacted in my family,

with exes; dearest siblings pulling at their hair.

It’s a power sort of game that leaves a flavour;

a bitterness that tastes of dank decay,

when wealth of hate showers forth in spittle

but not for any words they had to say.

It’s for being who you are but they don’t like it;

like you’re happy and they can’t believe that’s real,

so the vitriol or silence seek to thwart it,

expunge the love, let crusty scabs not heal.

It’s a game I see in work and with companions,

as if life is just too easy so let’s fight;

a soap opera to my reality, really,

I don’t get it! How can this attitude resemble right?

Naivete has always been my virtue

and my vice as well, if truth be told at last;

I never comprehend that I’ve offended

for it’s the last thing that I’d seek, so always ask.

I’ll move my knight to your rook and I’ll ponder

the route to trap and check the king, no vice,

I’ll throw the dice and play the cards and wonder

if betting on the game is worth the hellish price.

I’ll move my dog and hope that I collect some

prize or fund for playing my game fair,

but changing rules, anarchic games that some love,

are way beyond the bet I’d ever dare.

There are bastards in this world, please don’t doubt it,

I know god loves them just as much as me,

but I decline to play the games they’re playing

and leave, I hope, with vestigial dignity.

I’ll watch from sidelines when my friends are challenged,

I’ll bite my tongue and pray for some control

but never when I see a bully smirking;

I’ll jump right in and save that goddamn goal.

The penalty of those who play this game; you know,

the one, where winners there are none, or broken souls,

is loneliness forever, never reaching,

destitute in spirit; fragmented whole.


23 thoughts on “Ball Out Of Play”

      1. Oh gawd, when it’s family watch out for roars, right enough. But there are some strange folks out there that defy logic to me. Can’t be doing with them at all, at all.x


      2. I think your poem says it well. some misinterpret and don’t always have the courage (not assertive) to ask for clarification. I could have used you today with my boss…sheeesh:(


      3. Don’t they just come in all guises? And it’s a shame when you can’t walk away because you work for/with them. I just go for it anyway regardless figuring what’s the worst that can happen? They generally back off. I’ve had a few bosses who enjoyed the power and control. But if I know I’m right or they’re being unjust I’m afraid I get all deathly calm and usually go armed with notes and pen to take down everything they’re saying. They don’t like that. Shitting bricks at possible grievances. Unfortunately, they find someone else to try and freak. The aim of the game apparently being to always have someone to hound. I dislike these people intensely. Life could be so much easier without their angst/egos/narcissism/whatever-the-hell-it-is to deal with. Shove them on their arses. Metaphorically, of course. 😉 x


      4. In Toronto I was fine as we had a union to protect IF there would be discrimination….of course there are always power trips, but I would just duck/pretend not to notice. This office does not have a union…so if I lose my job…I will have a hard time finding work due language issues in this province and I love working with youths…so I keep reminding myself my true purpose here and voilà


    1. Thanks, Jen. Sister’s exe is being a control freak again. And I’m about ready to let fly. I’ve met quite a few over the years as I daresay we all have. Real pleasant folk to know…Not. They all make me wonder at how they tick. Most times I can choose to ignore them and refuse them access in my life. But not when they hurt the ones I love with stupid games. Dangerous people to know in their twisted psyche. Feckers. And eejits. 😉 x


      1. Oh, she’s well out of that a good few years ago. But kids mean contact. And control means never letting go. He is an eejit and a fecker. Most unfortunate combination.x


    1. I don’t like that game and, where possible, absolutely refuse to play it. Such a pity some choose such a perverted course of human interaction. Takes all sorts I suppose. Just not my cuppa.x


    1. Thanks, Cole. It’s sad that we all know them. I really don’t know how they can be bothered. So much effort involved in being nasty. So much apparent delight they take. Really sad.x


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