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The Psychology of Gambling

Gambling is a behavior deeply rooted in human psychology, with measurable patterns that scientists have studied for decades. According to the National Council on Problem Gambling, approximately 85% of American adults gamble in some form during their lifetime, yet only 1% to 2% develop serious gambling problems. These numbers illustrate a fine line between recreational risk-taking and addictive behavior.

The Psychology of Gambling

Gambling is a behavior deeply rooted in human psychology, with measurable patterns that scientists have studied for decades. According to the National Council on Problem Gambling, approximately 85% of American adults gamble in some form during their lifetime, yet only 1% to 2% develop serious gambling problems. These numbers illustrate a fine line between recreational risk-taking and addictive behavior.

If It Wasn’t For Poetry

From the very depths of my inner being I cherish  poetry,
without the written verse I’d  be impoverished as a person,
literary projects spur me on to otherworldy epic peaks,
an open channel with furtherance from lexicons endowed,
golden opportunity for human pathos rich and fair,
stomach-wrenching pain, joyous peals of  laughter, mental stimulus,
visions I adhere to have a wider world impetus,
the comity of fellow authors and their honest feedback,
diplomatic goodwill hint at barren lapse within my canon,

Time Stops

Time stops. The vile hands receive their recompense. Time stops. The fallen rise again. Time stops. Prayers ascend to the inner court. Time stops. The door opens to the needy. Time stops. The night summons the cocooned. Time stops. There is a battle between two worlds. Time stops. The withered meadows bloom. Time stops. The tendrils of darkness retreat. Time stops. The seekers stand by a glowing river. Time stops. I see my mother kneeling by her bedside, faint words escaping her lips as tears stream down her face. Time stops.

August 13th, 2025 – twenty six plus years since awful series of unfortunate events

The following poem posted about a half hour before the bewitching hour that spelled calamity (which though a freaky Friday the thirteenth) did (nor does) not find me exceptionally superstitious, and rather than wait for the morrow, I feel so pent up with aggravation concerning chronic checking account issues linkedin to Citizens Bank a need for a healthy distraction finds me sharing a tragi-comic combination of contusions upon body electric of mine at that time a forty year old father of two young daughters.

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