We lie
It is in our nature to deceive
When among apex predators
We hide our true intentions
Constantly camouflaging
In our minds
We make enemies of friends
Wary of what games they play
Friendships becoming wars of attrition
Subvert each other's eyes
Cloud each other's visions
Readying blades
And building intelligence caches
Waiting for the moment
To air out ***** laundry
To manipulate
To puppeteer
To instigate and spread propaganda
A new era of Cold War
As if social interactions
Are but chess games
Who will sacrifice the pawns
Who will take the queen
Who will **** the king
Or are we but pretending to be jesters
Or rooks silently waiting in the corner?

She's not a person.
She's not a human being.

She's just a huge pile of frustrations
sprinkled with endless uselessness;
glazed with overflowing insecurities.

But who is she  to complain? She is just a mere pawn of this ****** chess game.

Last night I sat down in the street
And played a game of chess
With a homeless man I chanced to meet
Near my old Cambridge address,
And thoughts of victory or defeat
Mattered little (perhaps less).

The only thing I cared to gain
Was this mans company,
And I found it quite hard to contain
That it meant the world to me.
(Was it silly of me to refrain,
Since it filled my heart with glee?)

I won the game and thanked the man,
But as I walked away
I knew I didn't have a plan,
And felt the urge to stay,
But the next game had just began-
"Hello sir! Want to play?"

I wandered aimless through the night
Not feeling quite the same.
I cried, as though I thought it might
Help wash away the shame,
Untill a voice helped ease my plight;
"Would you like another game?"

A gallant knight he seemed that night;
A castle until dawn.
Whilst bishops hold religion tight
To tell us right from wrong,
And kings and queens provoke the fight
The pawn protects the pawn.

I want that chessboard love
Protect me from an army of demons trying to get to me
I want you to be what's left of me
But I'm not sure I'm the best King
You can't be a better Queen
I think you're from heaven
I can now count to eleven
Meet me at seven
We can be together until eleven
Doing whatever chessboard pieces do in their spare time.

The money and the power
fit like hand in glove,
manipulating our lives
with hands soaked in blood.

Like pawns on a chessboard
we follow their commands,
cleverly manipulated
by cold corporate minds.

They reap a tainted harvest
bought with sleeping souls,
their purses bulging
as they play out their roles.

Prancing about in their
huge stately homes,
costumes adorned
with skulls and bones.

Masonic handshakes
get you into their halls,
where horrors unfold
amidst terrified calls.

And way down here
on the creaking boards,
another pawn is lost
to the bloodthirsty hoard.

Their veils are returned
as they cover the loss.

Another family bereft,
must recover the cost.


*
Written by Darren Scanlon, 2nd march 2015.
Revised 2nd October 2015.
©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.

I'm your pawn
Usesless and used
But I don't seem to mind.
You're my king  
My everything
But now...
You have your Queen

I've tried Knights in shining armour
All have been quite a charmer
But I would still do anything for you
Even though you have no clue

Maybe one day
I'll make it to the end of the board
And I'll be your Queen
But then again
That only happens in my dreams
'Cause I'll always be your pawn

One, of the two chairs, thrones under
Chinese twilight’s a’swirl and vacuous
come my evening’s stroll. Where once
two men would tinker, tea, and tease
atop a’board of chess, only one remains,
and that one would ‘ever cry. Tears that
only grey’d make, fears that only age
could stake, and a pecking order with
number nigh. I knew, come wail and so
entered the fireworks, flowers atop
promenades near, that the last game of
chess was just the other night. The last
cup of tea was just the other night, and
the one left behind thought about the
“night,” as we all do. When’s mine a
coming? When’s mine a’coming? Just
when is my night a’coming? So that I
may see you again, dear friend, let me
see you again.

I took a seat at the chess-board
I felt tense as a tightly stretched cord
My opponent turned around to face me
And a look of great fear did grace me

Feebly, I moved up a pawn
I felt vulnerable as a fawn
He smirked, and he brought out a knight
So consumed was I with fright

That I did do something so rash
I brought out my queen, and then CRASH!
My queen was captured by the horse
My face was consumed by remorse

I thought of offering a draw
I thought of my chess-playing flaw
Then I remembered one thing
That I was still badly losing

He brought his queen to the seventh rank
He knew that he had to be frank
With a knight of his standing idly by,
My king moved up, up into the sky

He clearly stated in a voice great,
I have won, you lose, Checkmate!
My eyes welled up with salty tears
My cries against the victor’s cheers

From this day forth I dread to play
Chess does make my mood so gray
I forever ponder the mess
That I made of that game of chess.