After A Chess Game....
it is said
that after each chess game
the king and pawn
are put always in the
same box,
in truth
does it really matter?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Queen of tango
I swap ten of my stories for one letter from you.
Letter and gingerbread heart with a mirror in it.
I want to do the tango, I'm tired of chess.
We can: Hidalgo, guitar and Argentina are close
for the souls that fly across the ocean.
Chess is better: a game in which the queen checkmates the king.
But the queen wants to dance, not play.
Make a move and dance, and I'm going to watch.
The queen goes to the dance floor with a pawn.
Here is my castle shooting at your pawn.
The pawn falls; the queen is going for a new one.
The king resigns: Do not go for a new pawn, we will do the tango.
Renku poetry: Tanja Bulovic Johannesburg
Zoran Jankovic Beograd
poem by Jankovic Zoran
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Checkmate
I look the other way.
To all my friends listen tell me what you hear.
The wind telling your secrets.
Feeding the face of rumors.
Fiction or fact doesn't matter the body is still intact.
A chance to get angry.
A chance to over react.
A chance to truly think back.
What did you do wrong?
What is it what you said, that left the room complete dead?
I could hear the pin hit that hard ground before it ever came.
A prediction of more of the same.
In chess I play this game.
Where one piece is given up for the king.
Almighty and defending.
An opening is but in the making.
And their just waiting take her.
But the right moment decides the game.
And it is all mine with just a pawn.
You have been owned.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Mr.Gaddafi
Why can't you Gaddafi step down?
Let them taste their taste.. the choice.
Your voice is no more a voice,
Life is a chess-game
King also killed by the pawn.....
poem by Aftab Alam Khursheed
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Life is Chess
Lets play a game of chess
A game that could bring about stress
A game that could also depress
If you strive to win without success
Chess is life Kasporov said
Thats what l thought off when l went to bed
Its funny you have a king and a queen
That represents a whole lot of things
Marriage, Politics, love and dont forget natures law
While the bishop goes with religion
The knights go to war to represent the nation
And the pawns march on like soldiers without a choice
But to defend our lives
The castle a wall around our thoughts
A protector for what our identity is worth
Who is behind the strategy
Does the player represent leadership
Are the pieces part of the world
If l draw a game what do l define myself
And if l win am l the supreme
Or is this thought merely too extreme
To play chess better
One has to constantly work harder
Recently l have acquired a bag of tricks
Which comes with experience
And while l play
I sometimes pray for luck
Which sometimes works
Such is the representation of real life
A queen so strong is sometimes sacrificed
While a king with only one move to his name
Is always the last to stay in the game
Thats goes to show that life is unfair
With all the pain and suffering that women bear
Life is Chess
I have to confess
© Sylvia Chidi- 17 October 2005
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Shaky Are the Checkers
Shaky are the checkers,
Opponents...
In a game of chess!
How can a rook,
Be mistaken for a bishop?
A strategy 'appearing' to be weak...
As the knight leaps,
To retrieve the pawn.
And put the queen in check!
Yet,
The king of the game...
Has not fallen to sleep.
His eyes are wide open...
Knowing wherever he goes,
Not protecting the queen's steps...
Would certainly meet with defeat!
'Checkmate!
That's game.
While you were looking at my bishop...
You placed your queen in my rook's lane! '
~That's 'not' a checkmate!
You just outplayed me,
By using a strategy that was lame.~
'But 'who' won?
That's all that was needed to be done.
You ready for another lesson?
This time I'll use an easier plan,
That wont leave you humiliated or keep you guessing.
Set 'em up! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Country Song
He made his way to the border
In the shadow under the trees
Down by a stream in a hollow
Turn your head feel the breeze
And the red Queen was waiting for the news
For the white King to move
And the balance hung upon the head of one who tried
To stay within the shadows
And keep his undercover secret tight
They let him in by a backway
Into a chamber reserved for the Queen
She took the note that he gave her
Opened it slowly and started to read
Run to the treasury and bring me back some gold
Give it to the pawn who came, she cried
He says the white King thinks the game of chess is wrong
And all the courtiers crowded her
and this is what she told the gathered round
Go to the store by the dungeon
Take all the red paint take all the white
Make up a newborn colour
Cover your neighbor we'll be all right
There will be no game today, she cried across the board
Everyday will be a holiday
And all the pieces cheered as tidings spread abroad
And the Pink Queen sat
and smiled at the cat who smiled back
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After the game, the king and pawn go into the same box.
After the game, the king and the pawn go into the same box.
At the end of the game the king and the pawn go into the same bag.
You all know that each title in the Chronicles has a chess theme; that's partly because of the overall design of the Chronicles themselves - the game of chess as an analogue of the game of life.
quote by Dorothy Dunnett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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D4 Or E4, That Is The Question
He sits across from me over a board
With checkered squares. He is white; I am black.
I need a win, him a draw. Can’t afford
To play prophylactically. Attack
Is my only chance to win this tourney.
Which leaves me with only one opening:
The Sicilian*. I only hope that he
Will play a hackneyed first move like a king
Pawn center thrust. Queen pawn creates problems
And he doesn’t need problems at this time.
I feel both moves favor me. It depends.
Playing queen pawn I think would undermine
His chances for a draw but then again
The king pawn move allows the Sicilian.
* 1. e4....c5
poem by Albert Ahearn
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At the end of the game, the pawn and the king go back in the same box.
Once the game is over, the King and the pawn go back in the same box.
Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back into the same box.
The Drop In Game
Two curious monkeys sat up in a palm tree
watching two Russian men playing chess.
Everyday they watched the Russians play
until a winner was declared the best.
The next day a Russian sat alone at the table
with the chess pieces set out to play.
A monkey dropped in and sat opposite him
and a game of chess got under way.
For over a week they played each other
until the monkey won five games to three.
The next day a lone monkey sat at the table
until its friend dropped down from a tree.
For two weeks they played each other
with every game resulting in a draw.
The monkeys that sat around watching
applauded and wanted to see more.
Two more weeks passed without a winner,
but then the tropical rains began to pour.
A hurricane blew the chess set out to sea,
now chess is played on the ocean floor.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Chess is a sport. The main object in the game of chess remains the achievement of victory.
En Passant
I have heard this word
but never played,
the game of Chess.
You may capture the Pawn
in the very first movement
oh! what's an interesting event?
But in reality,
how far I was running behind her
anyway at last I caught
only her beautiful body.
Yet, her inner feelings, secrets
and hidden notions who knows?
Somebody must have purposely programmed
of this scheduled brief-lifetime?
The period isn't enough to understand
this curious delicate- woman.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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But it's also because of something personal. My mother and father met while playing chess, so I've always had a fondness for the game. If it weren't for chess, I might not be here.
quote by Dorothy Dunnett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bobby Fischer
your pappy ain't your pappy, but that's OK,
well, he ain't your pappy, but that's ok
you can still play chess anyway,
bobby fischer.
yes, you can play the game of chess,
yes, the game of chess,
but in the game of life, your life is a mess,
bobby fischer.
I don't know but something ain't right,
I don't know but something ain't right,
you were a jew, yet an anti-semite,
bobby fischer,
being paranoid ain't so bad,
I mean it ain't so bad,
considering the life you had,
bobby fischer.
a captive of your own creation,
locked in an world of anticipation,
invalid passport and no relation,
bobby fischer.
poem by Richard Jarboe
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Only A Pawn In Their Game
A bullet from the back of a bush took medgar evers blood.
A finger fired the trigger to his name.
A handle hid out in the dark
A hand set the spark
Two eyes took the aim
Behind a mans brain
But he cant be blamed
Hes only a pawn in their game.
A south politician preaches to the poor white man,
You got more than the blacks, dont complain.
Youre better than them, you been born with white skin, they explain.
And the negros name
Is used it is plain
For the politicians gain
As he rises to fame
And the poor white remains
On the caboose of the train
But it aint him to blame
Hes only a pawn in their game.
The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid,
And the marshals and cops get the same,
But the poor white mans used in the hands of them all like a tool.
Hes taught in his school
From the start by the rule
That the laws are with him
To protect his white skin
To keep up his hate
So he never thinks straight
bout the shape that hes in
But it aint him to blame
Hes only a pawn in their game.
From the poverty shacks, he looks from the cracks to the tracks,
And the hoof beats pound in his brain.
And hes taught how to walk in a pack
Shoot in the back
With his fist in a clinch
To hang and to lynch
To hide neath the hood
To kill with no pain
Like a dog on a chain
He aint got no name
But it aint him to blame
Hes only a pawn in their game.
Today, medgar evers was buried from the bullet he caught.
They lowered him down as a king.
But when the shadowy sun sets on the one
That fired the gun
Hell see by his grave
On the stone that remains
Carved next to his name
His epitaph plain:
Only a pawn in their game.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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