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Marshal Gebbie Dec 2014
The fiscal snare is drawing tight
Putin’s day... now courting night,
Rouble tilts vertiginously
To Satan’s **** religiously.
Fiscal snare is drawing blood
A trickle then... is now a flood,
Russia’s central bank adjusts
But ineffectually, combusts.
Hard line prospects elbow dance
Aligning for assasins lance.

Perhaps….
Better now, the Devil known
Than facing down an Unknown throne…..
Facing down an Iron call
With finger poised in nuclear thrall.

What choice now for ego’s Prince
Retreat from Eastern Ukraine’s wince?
Retreat Crimea’s balmy shores
To face the nationalistic howl of hordes?
Brinkmanship…the other way
A gamble that the West might sway?

Either way the game is up
Now bitter wine brims Russia’s cup.

M.
Amelia Browder Apr 2013
The world is my chessboard.

The people are my pawns.

Moved to acquire my needs.

Everyone is just a piece,

In this cruel game.

I play them as I should.

Moving slowly and carefully.

Making my way to the checkmate.

Everyone has a part to play.

Mother and father, the Queen and King.

Brother and Sister, Knights.

Teachers, Bishops.

Friends, Rooks.

All just apart of the game.

Even me, the ruler of it all.

Fate as my opponent.

Conquering all the pieces of the game.

That's all it is.

Just a game.

And I will win!

When it comes to the end

And all my pawns are played

The words will slip off of my tongue.

The words that end it all.

My final command.

Checkmate
I’m drenched
in the flood
which has yet to come

I’m *******
in the prison
which has yet to exist



Not having played
the game of chess
I’m already the checkmate



Not having tasted
a single cup of your wine
I’m already drunk



Not having entered
the battlefield

I’m already wounded and slain



I no longer
know the difference
between image and reality



Like the shadow
I am

And

I am not
We found something worse than hate and love,
something that spawns when a heart is lost
and we thought it didn't exist, but it does
and we got hit with it's sun like the moss of a tree.

So now every time I fall for another one
it feels more like the ending of summer
and less like my favorite season.

Our mouths are loaded pistols
with golden bullet words that have no real direction,
spraying upwards towards a cloudless night sky,
but they never quite hit the stars.

I picked you out like a flower in a field
where the rain clouds stay,
where the ruiners of all good things play,
with temporary wars between you and I.

I moved your eyes like a chess piece
to wherever I walked in the room
so I checked into checkmate
so you could destroy me.
I thought you would have moved your rook
to E6, ending in a stalemate and us in love forever...

But you said "I'm so sorry" right before knocking my king over.

I hate your checkered past. I'm going to play solitaire.
Nickols Oct 2012
Waltzing into the blanket of dusk.
A pawn escaping across the checkered board,
Out and inwards to the green grassed yard.
A sleeting figure, past-and-future,
Gone the way of the fearless noble rook.
Down-acrossed squares of black and white.  
Into the field of endless battle.

This game we play, has become a tournament.
White against black, two players locked;
Locked in a battle of constant wits.
Who shall win?
The noble too afraid to capture the evil queen or,
The darkness plauging the board.

**Check and mate.
© Victoria
Poetic T Apr 2015
Checkmate was the moves that followed me,
Each was noted as if known before I had stepped,
Frustration gained pace upon my fragile self.
Motion seemed stagnant and still,
My life was a dismal stalemate of defeat.
When all life feels like is a failure that builds upon each fall
Rachel Glass Jun 2012
You caged me in your game of chess,
But you never taught me the rules.
I was only ever a mere pawn,
Never a courageous Queen.

You painted my entire life
But you blurred the lines and shapes.
I saw rainbows throughout my time
But you took away my colours.

You trapped me in a glass jar,
Like a lonely caterpillar.
When I bloomed into a butterfly,
You never let me spread my wings.

But now you’re losing power,
You’re controlling me no more.
I’m now getting stronger
And I’m evening the score.

My queen is moving in
Upon your mere pawn.
And all the colours have been drained,
From your life that you have drawn.

My butterfly spread her wings,
And she flew away from you.
And then she said ‘Checkmate!’
Because your chess game is now through.
Max Chisholm Jul 2010
When I got that call
I knew it was foul
I heard the name Jon
And I knew he was gone
Like a game of chess
He died a pawn
Never had time
To grow and spawn
The next couple days
Were filled with greys
I was feelin very blue
Not a clue what to do
Tryin to find out what I’m doin
I ended up missin the viewin
Missed my last chance to see
Where he would forever be
Man I feel bad
For Shamawd and Nancy
Sounds like a story
Straight from Tom Clancy
On April seven
He was sent to heaven
Or at least we hope
Cause he was sellin that dope
I wonder if I’ll ever
Be able to cope
We use to always play ball
And chill at the mall
I rue the day
When I got that call
People always say
Live and Die by the burner
But I’m the one
Whose brother got murdered
Your life was took
And now mines shook
Some people think
That you were a crook
But they didn’t know
That person inside
The one hiddin in you
Behind all that pride
You were on a mission
But you would never listen
And now were all sorry
Dealing with this quarry
Feeling like we
Should all go on Maury
Povich is a *****
You used to always say
But on April seven
At about eleven
You were shot and stripped
Dropped in a ditch
Now that I think
Was you a Crip?
Naw you was smarter then that
You always tried to earn it
But then again
You had your Unit
But that’s all in the past
The good memories will last
And dog you did
Go out wit a blast
Just like you said
But now you dead
2 in the shoulder
2 in the head
All cause of what
Some counterfeit bread?
Only a few people know
What really went on
The problem is
One of em’s gone
In my eyes
You were never a pawn
You were always the king
You had all the bling
And if you used your head
You’d have everything
The reality is
That it’s too late
Its unfortunate dog
Checkmate
Gone from our lives, not from our hearts.
Rest Peacefully.
Jowlough Feb 2011
She have created a world,
that she did not know.
have appointed a pawn,
to build it for her.

Waited until it's done,
never ever sat on it.
No worries and second thoughts,
trusted on her mighty wits

thought this was good,
Will make her the master.
To go with the trends,
of this fast phased ambience.

Did not care on the work,
Showed a little effort.
while the poor pawn,
was proving his humble worth.

stayed late,
worked overtime.
to polish the demands
of the demanding divine.

while Time had flee,
the so-called universe was done,
completed the systems,
of holy progress crowned.

Yes! she was overwhelmed,
without knowing the details,
as she takes the merit,
the deed and the title.

Not until a flaw,
was shown and highlighted,
because of her ill leadership,
issues have ignited.

why and why,
are the repeating questions,
all thrown to the poor pawn,
gazillion revisions.

Yes she knows why,
but she never cared.
you can't approach and talk,
but the mood was always there.

All the issues,
resulted from the unobserved.
Scattered around,
up down onboard.

And you can see,
the blame is always there,
for the incomplete universe,
she want's to give and share.

as she pushes the pawn,
off the high cliff,
with spikes and swords,
sinking quicksand beneath.

as the Queen wants it,
the fame and popularity,
easily shifts mood,
cannot adjust to scarcity.

As she blames it,
to the skilled pawn,
turns to her scapegoat,
to protect her own

to misguide and uplift,
one's own selves.
to project a good image,
and please the elves.


as she was pressured,
by his lord King,
yes! she's pressured,
without a wink.

and she had slaved the kingdom,
for a long long time,
oh darkness ruled,
as she drinks her wine.

Until the pawn had chance,
to gather alliance,
break free from slavery,
come and hear the mob's chant.

Until they realized,
that they are abused,
given a title,
that is always misused.

Until the pawn reacts,
had the ultimate break.
saw an opening,
and it's zap, it's checkmate .
(c) 2.23.11  -Until it's checkmate - jcjuatco
Elli Apr 2014
tick tock
goes the clock

darling you are now
under my spell

play in this game
called love

there is no escape,
you are now in the palm of my hands

if you fall first,
checkmate
don't take this too seriously please, love is not a game. I was just writing for fun, no serious feelings intended.
Rob Sandman May 2016
Playin' games.
=============
Jay Text Sandman aka Skitz Text

Set the timer click click now the clock is tick tockin'.
I came to play the game. Like a KNIK KNAK knockin'.
Your rhyme flow is slow you know like PLAYDOUGH.
I gobble up fine rhymes like a HUNGRY HIPPO.
Like SUBBUTEO I kick it.
Shruggin' off your challenge like BUCKAROO kickin'..
..up ****. I sunk your BATTLESHIP.
You played out your game of CHARADES. That's it.
I dig deep in me rhyme dictionary.
You scrawl on the the wall like palsy PICTIONARY.
Not strugglin'. I'm jugglin' the rhymes in me head.
Slam dunk. KERPLUNK. Nuff said.
No, never. No way. Who am I kiddin'?
You know I got the rhymes. And I got the rhythm.
I confess. Like a game of CHESS.
Checkmate. No debate. Not a pretty pawn missin'. *  

It’s the end of the games like RIP,
I Multikill MC’s like COD,
Keep your mind on your MINECRAFT can’t catch me,
Cause Skitz is EC's Artillery,
droppin bombs watch the FALLOUT or you’re Dogmeat
FAR CRY from the old days of CRT
So your attempt is DOOMed best clear the room,
SWAT’s get Swatted Mic shotgun BOOM!,
Blast backdraft will destroy your CIV,
No cheat codes PAC em up MAN time to give,
RESPEC- to the PORTAL gun hangin’ on me hip,
You’ve got HALF a LIFE left faster than NO CLIP
But I said no cheatin’ Hackers get Hacked up,
No Multiplayer,cause you’ve no backup,
I’m glorying in the games we play,
Checkmate VS XBOX  pass to Jay.


Chorus
Not mentionin' names. We're playin' games.
Energetic and poetic and it's Jay to blame.
Set the mic aflame. We burn it up now.
Set the timer click, click.  

When I flex it's hectic. Like SCALEXTRIC.
Switch lanes to PERFECTION.
I've a MONOPOLY in this game.
Don't pass go. Go straight to jail.
You fall like DOMINOES. I leap like a salmon.
Tisk tisk. Big RISK. Now I have BACKGAMMON.
Stamina. A steady hand OPERATION.
Ace up me sleeve and I'm just playin' PATIENCE.
Got me POKERface on.
Read 'em and weep as the game plays on.
I got a dead mans hand but I animate the mic.
BULLDOGS charge. You know I'll reach the other side.
Back to me den.
Repeat after me like SIMON SAYS.
RED ROVER, RED ROVER. I call Jay over.
You think it's over ?
No my friend. *  

Not mentionin' names. We're playin' games.
Energetic and poetic Schizophrenic to blame.
Set the mic aflame. We burn it up now.
Set the timer click, click.  

This Steam Machine is heatin' up a treat
So don’t be TEKKEN the ****,just feel the beat,
This KOMBAT’s MORTAL to enemies,
But it’s a full HEALTH PACK to Fans of E.C.,
So OverClock your CPU,
get your Soundcard Jumpin like chimps in SIM ZOO,
drop DICE on ICE from here to Timbuktoo,
STREET FIGHTER’s and Writers BIOSHOCKin' you


Not mentionin' names. We're playin' games.
Energetic and poetic Schizophrenic to blame.
Set the mic aflame. We burn it up now.
Set the timer click, click.  

I SPY with my little eye.
Somethin' beginnin' with J. I let fly.
As your JENGA tower wobbles.
I smile. You drop tiles. Dropped your poxy box of SCRABBLE.
Look out. That could spell disaster.
Triple word score as the rhymes rip past ya. Blast ya.
Quick out the trap like The Flash playin' SNAP.
Check the lyrical master. *
As the Dungeon Dragon spreads his wings-lets fly
playin' the game the pied piper pies,
catch you rats in me MOUSETRAP its a snap,
"cause I wrote the rhymes that broke the bulls back"
I'm the KING OF THE HILL I got ya QUICKSCOPIN'
in THE SHADOWS OF MORDOR prayin' and hopin'
for a hero like MARIO to bust you loose,
Jay's SNAKE'n' up the LADDER time to twist the noose


Not mentionin' names. We're playin' games.
Energetic and poetic E.C. to blame.
Set the mic aflame. We burn it up now.
Set the timer click, click.  

What ya think ?              
Me rhymes kink, bend and fold like TWISTER.
A wicked rhythm like DOUBLE DUTCH. Skip, skip.
Like EVEL KNIEVEL. Flywheel spinnin'.
Rev it up. Dump the clutch.        
See me grinnin'. Knockin' down the pin and..
SPIROGRAPH lines in me rhyme. I'm spinnin..
..out of control. You can't cope with me GYROSCOPE.
I bring you back to the beginnin'.*

Not mentionin' names. We're playin' games.
Energetic and poetic E.C. to blame.
Set the mic aflame. We burn it up now.
Set the timer click, click.
Jay came up with this idea and tried to mention as many games we played as kids as he could fit in,when  he invited me onto the track I went more down the PC/Console game route,
let us know how many we missed!.
Kati Davis Nov 2015
A Curse or A Blessing

Time is a gift
a healer
it heals the wounds we
have yearned to close
it heals the times we
long to forget
it's a healer
friendships grow stronger with each passing hour
couples loving every minute they are together
families enjoying the second spent together
but
time is a curse
a stealer
poison to our blood
venom that there is no cure too
the only known thing that will never stop
you cannot out run time
it will always win in the end
it’s a stealer
it will tear us apart
our skin going wrinkly
creasing
our minds no longer young and free
held down
by the weight of the world
causing us to lose ourselves
time is a
stealer
it steals our breath
beauty
innocence
time
is the reason why we
learn from our mistakes
we will never make the same one twice
why our internal wounds close
that gaping hole through our heart
that seems to always bleed
seals as
time goes on
why we have to die
why we grow old
why we lose our innocence
everything will leave
the sun will lose its light
the lights that keeps us warm
is slowly fading
the icebergs are slowly melting
the world a little more worried about what
will happen in
10 years
20
30
40
50
years
we are becoming engulfed
the wave is about to
crash over our head
drowning us
making us count the minutes
until the class is over
high school is over
college is over
a job is over
a hard time is over
we count each passing minute
hour
year
till we are finished
we think now we can take a break
but time doesn’t take a break
it stops for no one
and no thing
now
we have to realize
the wave has crashed over
drowning us
filling our lungs with the moments
that we wish would be over
not the moments we can’t forget
each passing hour filling
our head with moments
that make us think
and wonder when
we get a break
the wave has drowned us
the wave of time.  
Time has won
it always will
the wrinkles on our skin  
prove that
the ice that is melting
the sun that is fading away
the world run by technology
the power
being abused
the hope that keeps us living
one day after another
after all time does in the end
takes our breath away
is part of times plan
we are chess pieces
in time’s game and
we always seem to be in checkmate
checkmate

checkmate

checkmate
again and again
we are losing our sanity to time
the ice melting
proves that
our resources diminishing
proves that
why can’t we out run time?
Because time will keep on ticking


tick tock
goes the clock.
AM May 2013
If life were a chess game
Me against you
You'd sweep the board
Of my valiant little army of pawns
Capture all the kings horses
And all the kings men
Yell "Checkmate!" in triumph
And leave me to place my pieces
Back together again
RazanSidErani Feb 2015
I've planned my escape
Long before you've made your move
I see the light now
And I'm moving towards it
My checkmate in sight
I'm gonna leave and you'll be left behind
Keep bidding and keep planning
I've already made my dismise.
© RazanRinaldi
refresh mesh May 2015
Your fingers are on my throat
   the world is rocking like a boat
an ocean
is unbearable
because it never seems to end
   and all I can do is float

   Your lips are rosebuds that never stop moving
   and somehow I find my own disgust soothing
my fingertips
are numb
whenever I lose myself to the waves
   but you're deaf so I'm unsure what I'm proving

   Your move was the deadly spawn of knight
   I sacrificed my pawn, paralyzed by fright
we will protect
the king
from sicknesses like you, *******
   Checkmate. I never lose a single fight.
delete this poem
[Opening]
I play dark, she plays light
Her move toward me, a destined sign
I want her heart, I give her mine
But my gambit, she declines

[Middlegame]
Her pieces out, a closed defense
But I can tell, she means "yes"
My royal pin, she rejects
So I keep her, in constant check

[Endgame]
I had played the perfect game
My forcing moves she can't escape
But her hidden queen, comes into play
She stands her ground, stares me down, and states:

Checkmate
Shashank Virkud Apr 2012
I sleep with the pigeons,
I sleep under bridges,
a deteriorating photograph
is all I have.
She left with that winner,
the one that looks like an athlete
but he's actually an artist
you know, the one that gets noticed.
I can't blame her, I've lost it all.
These are the types of injuries that occur
when the ethics are below your pay grade.
So now I sleep under bridges,
the grass is my bed,
and I
bathe with the pigeons.
I keep a hat on my head
while I read the paper with my shoulders
hunched over, although I don't
get cold anymore.

Agitated at how this guy has me figured
out, I just want to throw him on the ground.
I look up at the board in front of me
now and see
that Bukowski has me cornered again
and I want to scream expletives
as loudly as I can, but I catch myself
just before I begin to vent because
the three and four year old children
all around are the only people that
don't yet hold me in complete
contempt and I'd like to keep it
that way.
Sarah Khan Aug 2015
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.
Based on an actual game of chess, I wrote this poem to truly capture how crushing it can be to be defeated in anything!
torrey Feb 2015
I've rubbed my skin raw,
To diminish all the stains
Your kisses used to leave
Me in awe
Now all I want is for them to be gone

I was a frivolous pawn
You'd use as you'd go
You'd play me when the time was right
It was only a game,
Black or white

Then one day you made a mistake
You played a blunder
You lost your game,
I stole your thunder

You were a catalyst of sorts
Always playing the pawns
Feelings never contort

But I've won this round
The queen is to be crowned
Now this time
You'll be kissing *my ground
on Valentine’s Day he is working on black painting hears knocking at door with rag brushes in hand he asks “who is it?” “it’s Reiko! come on mr. birdfishdog open up” he has grown afraid of her nervously shuffles brushes rag in hand guardedly opens door there stands Reiko Lee Furshe shoulders pulled back arms akimbo black leather jacket black tight jeans black pointed toe boots hair cut extremely short looks like handsome young boy grinning “hi aren’t you going to invite me in? want to **** and ****?” Reiko’s altered appearance suddenness alarm Odysseus "why did you cut your hair Reiko Lee?" she says "it’s my hair and I can do what I want with it i shaved my legs armpits and ***** too want to have a look?" he replies "no no way why? why did you cut your hair?" she says "because i felt like it and because i know how much you love my hairiness Odys i wanted to displease you i’m female again!" she defiantly glares at him he looks away slowly closes door hears her holler “*******!” listens as footsteps race down stairs out building he drops paintbrushes rag rushes to front window looks out watches her saunter away down street until she is gone writes Reiko Valentine poem he will never send

love listens when you speak understands what you think love watches while you sleep love holds back as you leap love lounges while you run frantic love picks your pocket puts you in checkmate love builds nest hatches egg love rips open your chest plucks heart away love is racehorse love is rattlesnake love pretends not to notice while you ******* love swings on gate love visits your grave love impersonates a poet love slits your throat love devours everything leaves crumbs for hate

he receives Valentine card in mail from Mom wonders if ultimately his fate is somehow sorely connected to her what if Mom stands in way of every woman? what if stars lead away from recognition as painter instead steer straight back to Mom? what if each is trial to other as if their souls are entangled in insolvable riddle ancient curse? he drinks himself to sleep

Laius and Jocasta are king and queen of Thebes in ancient Greece they have baby boy oracle prophesies boy will grow up **** father marry mother to nullify prophecy Laius Jocasta decide to **** their son back then it is common to abandon unwanted or damaged baby on mountain for vultures child survives grows to be man he travels gets into fight on road kills stranger who unaware to him is his father King Laius traveler Oedipus goes to Thebes solves Riddle of Sphinx saves city he is made king unknowingly marries his own mother King Laius's widow Queen Jocasta Oedipus rules wisely he and Jocasta have four children eventually Oedipus and Jocasta realize what ******* Oedipus is Jocasta commits suicide Oedipus pokes out his own eyes becomes wandering beggar assisted by daughter Antigone at time of their marriage Oedipus is young naive but Jocasta is middle-aged woman maybe deep down Jocasta knows she is marrying her handsome son it is thrill to sleep with him maybe it is only after Oedipus realizes truth in disgust confronts Jocasta that she is driven to suicide Jocasta cannot live with herself because she has known truth all along and now she is found out Oedipus can live with himself yet he plucks out eyes because he never wants to see truth again

Odysseus continues to work on black painting many weeks pass slowly snowdrifts begin to melt on occasion sun appears in sky Penelope calls to catch up with him says she is in hurry has met really cool guy is falling in love again their conversation is brief he hangs up receiver considers how resilient Penelope’s heart is she seems so much more capable of getting over heartbreaks
Axl Rose Feb 2015
In a world full of pretension
Secrecy and bad intention
The most fulfilling
Is to have finally found yourself
Somewhere
Within a person
When words don't crumble
Where sentences never stumble
We'll be the loudest click
Most fascinating wit
Slowest kiss
And hardest fall
Olga Valerevna Feb 2013
She'd not laid out the chessboard yet your fingers played the game
moving up her body like a rook upon its frame

And all directions scattered as the vacant squares were won
kept by her fidelity then claimed as if a pawn

But only one can occupy the spaces in between
a narrow road that leads you into that which can't be seen

The guard is up and she is safe inside the lines that pave
a path without an end in sight - eternity, the way

Her en passant captivity may drain her weakened state
and bring about the enemy to stand before her face

But nothing's made if it's not moved for then it has no verve
advance, retreat - her victory is what you will preserve
I don't even play chess.
Andrew Rueter Jun 2017
You make me feel so stupid
When we play chess
The way you en passant all nonchalant
You chase me into castle
From there I watch you intently
The way the Russians watched Bobby Fischer
In his hotel room
But while I wait for a move to develop
I become the Boredest Spazsky
My mind in a stalemate
As I try to crush your Sicilian defenses
As much as I harangue
You leave me in zugzwang
Which confuses my feeble mind
For I may be a pawn
But I'm the king pawn
Which means the board usually revolves around me
But your queen takes that instantly
And I'm left in a fool's checkmate

I wish you could see things from my side of the board
You'd see how desperately I wanted the king
All the complex and unique obstacles in the way
But instead you just sit there
And laugh at me losing all my pieces trying to reach you
DC raw love Jul 2017
I know a day
Mother may i yes you may
Wait in January and May
Changing time delay
Financial gain repay
Washing with GAIN spray
Water beaches waves
Money grow on tree branch break
Taking a break from life decay
Maybe just stolen fish on bait
Men mastery *******
Mason and teplars template
Money laundering contemplate
Some words can relate
Relationships replace
Playing chess checkmate
Success i will regenerate
All along make a clean slate
The year 1776 to1778
My path clear and straight
I will eat because u already ate
Knowingly frustrating designate
This design is precious simulate
Simulating grids no hesitate
Motherboard and pannel fate
tHe 13th and 9HT gate
Souls and destined key to soulmates
The road 66 or 69 navigate
Mr and Mrs contract negotiate
Go with your gut or go with faith
Coins and diamonds a future await
Raquel Cheri Nov 2013
delicate aggression
tender abrasion
your words caress
like a soft knife
your lips warm
and smooth like ice
eyes dilate; enchanted
and we all fall down

red roses and blue jays
ringing, singing in my ears
violent shrills in a foreign tongue
swept tile after ashes of fun
the friction of bare skin burns the rug
brows furrow, the battles won
still, you wish it could all
be undone
chloe fleming Apr 2018
I am a stalemate,
I will never be won,
But I will also never be lost
I could never be your checkmate.
The sun was warmer
and the skies were clearer,
When you smiled at me genuinely
and kissed me sincerely.
The past seemed like a distant dream
when I got lost in your eyes,
You made my demons disappear when I slept
while you held me tightly in your arms.

Now the dream is over
ripped apart by the cold claws of reality,
leaving me trying to piece together the vision
reduced to nothing more than a distant memory.
You act like nothing has changed
you are as distant as the memory of your touch,
as cold as the day you left me to drown in my sorrow.

Now we play a game of chess
you try to check my king,
and I pretend like I don’t care
that each day that rolls by
you take more and more of my pieces off the board,
until there is nothing but your army
and my king.

What will happen when you finally get your checkmate?
Jenifer S May 7
Every piece is placed with precision
The same way it's been placed before
Remember the moves, repeat the rules
Eyes on the target,  ready,  set, go

You stand alone in the company of many
You stand silent while they struggle to spill their story
I seek your attention, request you to join the game
You oblige  and wander into my territory

I make my move and you accept
As always, for  information, I pry
For you are different,  just as expected
A new story,  a new answer that you reply

"Interesting" "intriguing" "fascinating"
you recite the words I have memorised
With every gesture, you  fuel my curiosity
yet I never fail to play the moves I've revised

Check;  break down the barrier to your mind
Check; earn and conquer your trust
Check; uncover the story caged in your head
Checkmate, the next move, a must

And though I've stuck to my rules
You've broken the invisible fence
You surround me just as I have done to you
You widen your grin as I try to make sense

On this field of black and white, little did I know
The pieces had merged into an ugly grey
For you had been playing by the same rules
Imitating the moves that I play

Neck to neck, you and I
As a generous gesture
You allow me to make the final move
Expecting me to conquer

All eyes me, as I reach out
I won't dare let my heart lead the way
It knows only of how to be played
Not how to play

No matter whether I win or lose,
The game, I know won't last forever
You will leave me, no matter of the outcome
So why even bother?

Yet I play not to win
Nor to lose
I play for the thrill
And the unexpected I'll choose

Your king stands alone
surrounded, helpless, vulnerable
You may think me a fool or a genius
But I plan to make this game memorable

I make my final decision
And move my queen towards her fate
Towards your king, but not quite
End of game, a stalemate
David Nelson Jun 2010
The Persian Chessboard

as the story goes, it happend in Persia
could have been India, or even in China
the King was bored, so he looked for someone wiser  
the Grand Vizier, being the principle advisor

entertain me the King said, challenge my senses
I need something different, I'm tired of burning fences
the Vizier scratched his chin, and stared straight ahead
how about a new game, where you have to use your head

we'll use moving pieces, on black and white squares
the King will be the major piece, the rest nobody cares
capture the opponents King, to make him surrender
be careful of the others, the ones who are pretender

we can call it 'shahmat', or death to the King
and when this death is proclaimed, everybody sing
the final move is checkmate, there will be no place to run
the game sometimes in real life, the loser had no fun

the pawns and the knights, each one fell to the side
eventually then an added piece, the King's special bride
the Queen was entered in, she also had some power
she was just as deadly, cutthroat behind you in the shower

the King was very pleased, he granted Vizier a treasure
he told him, pick your price, anything you pleasure
the Vizier tried to trick the King, he made mistake instead
the game lived on and on, but the Vizier turned up dead

Gomer LePoet...
miranda schooler Jun 2013
you will never be let down by anyone
more than you will be let down
by the one you love most in the world
it’s how gravity works
it’s why they call it falling
it’s why the truth is harder to tell
every year
you have more to lose
but you can choose to bury your past
in the garden
beside the tulips
water it
until it’s so alive
it lets go
and you belong to yourself
again

when you belong to yourself again
remember forgiveness
is not a tidy grave
It is a ready loyal knight kneeling before your royal heart

call in your royal heart
tell it bravery cannot be measured by a lack of fear
it takes guts to tremble
it takes so much tremble to love
every first date is an earth quake

sweetheart , on our first date
I showed off all my therapy
I flaunted the couch
where I finally sweat out my history
pulled out the photo album from the last time I wore a lie to the school dance
I smiled and said
“that was never my style
look how fixed I am
look how there’s no more drywall on my fist
look at the stilts I’ve carved for my short temper
look how my wrist is not something I have to hide”

I said
well , I was hiding it

the telephone pole still down from the storm
by our third date I had fixed the line
I said listen ,
I have a hard time
and by that I mean I cry as often as most people *** and I don’t shut the door behind me
I’ll be up in your face screaming

“SEATTLE IS TOO RAINY SEATTLE IS TOO RAINY
IM NEVER GOING TO BE ABLE TO LIVE HERE .”


I sobbed on our fourth date

I can’t live here
in my body , and by that I mean
I can’t live in my body all the time it feels too much
so if I ever feel far away know I am not gone
I am just underneath my grief
adjusting the dial on my radio face so I can take this life with all of it’s love and all of it’s loss

see I already know that you are the place where I am finally going to sing without any static which means
I’m never gonna wait
that extra twenty minutes
to text you back ,
and I’m never gonna play
hard to get
when I know your life
has been hard enough already .
when we all know everyone’s life
has been hard enough already

it’s hard to watch
the game we make of love ,
like everyone’s playing checkers
with their scars ,
saying checkmate
whenever they get out
without a broken heart .

just to be clear
I don’t want to get out
without a broken heart .
I intend to leave this life
so shattered
there’s gonna have to be
a thousand separate heavens
for all of my separate parts
and none of those parts are going to be wearing the romance from the overpriced vintage rack
that is to say I am not going to get a single speed bike if I can’t make it up the hill
I know exactly how many gears I’m going to need to love you well
and none of them look hip at the hot coffee shop
they all have god saying

“good job . you’re finally not full of ******* .
you finally met someone who’s going to flatten your knee caps into skipping stones ."


throw me
throw me as far as I can go
I don’t want to leave this life without ever having come home
and I want to come home to you
I can figure out the rain .
Sy Lilang Feb 2015
Parang ako yung nag-aabang sa kanto
Yung ang tagal makasakay
Yung umulan, umaraw makapaghihintay
Yung kahit naiinitan na, mag-aabang pa rin.

Aasa pa ba ako sa muli **** pagdating?
Pano pag dumaan ka’t hindi pala nakatingin?
Pano pag bumalik ka pero may sakay na pala?

Kaya nga ayoko ng laro
Minsan madaya kasi
Seryoso na, pero ba’t nakikipagbiro pa?

Hindi laruan ang puso
Na pwede may mag “Time First”
Pag na-checkmate na ang isa.

Pilit ko mang ikubli sayo
Pero sana hindi na lang
Tinanggap ang hamon
Ang hirap pala mag-move on
Tutulak ka nga
Pero may pasan pa rin.

Walang pasintabi,
Katapusan na pala.

May nabibigo pala talaga sa laban
Hindi man lubos na maintindihan
May istratehiya pala
Pero sa bawat laban, bawat laro
May sasalo pa rin pala sa bawat kabiguan.

Titingin pa rin sa Kalangitan
Titiklupin ng Hari ng Sanlibutan
Ang pahinang walang saysay
May maisusulat pa rin pala
Kahit sa pusong naging sugatan.

Ang Amang may Likha, nagbigay-pag-asa
Patuloy na iibig nang tunay
Pagkat simula pa lang nang pagsagwan
Hindi ko alam kung kailan hihinto
**Pero alam kong may mararating ito.
myrrh May 2015
Let me undress your sanity
Make your mind bare, one petal at a time
Holding the pieces of your broken judgement
One more move and its checkmate
Washing the rights off your being
I am your God, I write your fate
Read your thoughts through your eyes
Put you in a sense of illusion
Make you define delusion
Im back! Bit Rusty though:3
Sienna Luna Dec 2015
I am so ready and waiting and
there’s a retraction point between us
where my day off stretches almost
to eternity
I am so ready to touch you and
it feels like the crest of plateau
before the initiation has even started
I am so ready to do what is necessary
to begin like there’s a chess board
and we’re checkmate
the only two pieces left and
I am researching this like crazy
like a sort of ultimate observer
so alien to the unknown future
as it pulses like neurons or electrons
in the brain creating wavelengths
of spastic contractions and
it feels like I’m stepping into
a dark chasm ready to reach inside
the crystal cave lined with diamonds
freshly squeezed from decrepit coal
now shining in their excellence.
lust love checkmate chess game diamonds cave crystals brainwaves neurons electrons coal transformation hope fallinginlove transition alien feelings fear excitement *** sensuality sexuality
Jett Jul 2017
Sleeping in your bed, next to you
For the first time
Is far more intimate than I'd like to admit
But the bobby pins on your window sill
Remind me that you are not mine
I am nothing more than a warm body
To slide into when you get bored
constantly reminding myself I am
Good enough, that your indifference
Is reason enough to walk away
But I don't walk away, I follow
The familiar path to your front door
And in a tangle of legs and sheets
I come undone
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2019
.how did the political "debate" ever become surmount to include musicians? from what i've seen? of the KEXP radio session...  Ashish Vyas had the most fun from the session... i always admired the bass players more than those ****-offs running out of rhythm guitar sessions... bass, a tier above the drums... masturbator-grand-master-soloist... i guess this is one of those nights where i drink more than i write... elephant's ******* choking me to come... oh well... not even a Decalogue will save me... the political art is no art to begin with, curtains... all i'm seeing if curtains... and households filled with retired personel... and curtains... curtains but not blinds... it's abhorrent to have to listen to music with hushed bass guitar... notably metallica... apart from devil's dance and... where's the bass guitar? the rhythm guitar section overpowers the music... fine fine, have your solo *******, but don't silence the bass guitar with the rhythm guitar, i need to hear the drums translated via the bass guitar into the rhythm guitar... solo guitar and vocals all you want... it's like... the lessons to be learned from jazz, when all the fire prime instruments are allowed to solo... went, "missing"... i need the bass, man... frantic bass & drum genre type of music will not do lollipops for me... what was the alternative? dub-step? well... vex'd & distance... burial... who were the others? i don't remember... don't make me cite skrillex: white privelege man! yeah... at least with rabbit teeth missing, doing that well known party trick! i don't like bands that have a knack at an over-emphasis of the rhythm guitar, who neglect the bass guitar... it's so counter the jazz-inheritance... tool: grand bass, red hot chilli peppers, silverchair... i need that smoothing out layer of sound that manifests itself in a bass... a layer of sound just below the rhythm guitar and a tier above the base (not bass) of the african drum borrow... bāß... base (not bass)... yes, it's not supposed to look pretty: a phonetic antithesis... as most "things" in english...

             mind you... did i mention how heidegger
has a foot in the door?
       oh... i didn't? did i?
     the reflexive and the reflective quadratic...
the reflex of conscience "vs."
the reflectiveness of consciousness...
       heidegger:
                  language - only if speech has acquired
the highest univocity of the word does it become
strong for the hidden play of its essential
   multivocity (as withdrawn from all "logic"),
of which poets and thinkers alone are capable,
in their own respective modes and their own
directions of sovereignty.

  of the few lyrics i've entertained these passing
"days"?
             the black keys: lonely boy -
              i got a love that keeps me waiting...
borrowing from Kafka i guess:
      in that case, i’ll miss the thing by waiting for it.
   no?
   guess there's no "oops" where these words
come from...
              
    with the "passive" circumstance of the faculty
of memory...
                two tiers of memory:
the reflexive memory type,
the scholastic rubric type...
  1 x 4 = 4, a + b + a +c + u + s = instrument =
counting... etc.,
            that's the reflexive memory type...
a scholastic rubric...
      dyktando...
but memory also occupies
the reflective parameters...
          which involve personality...
a sort of memory dissociated from schooling,
and more, associated with:
disinhibiting any chances of succumbing
to dementia's grinding machine
of the mortal circus...

  the reflexive memory storage bank is
the buffer...
the "placebo": nay... the safety mechanism...
but... too much education,
too much pointless education,
and the erosion of the reflective memory
storage bank: this is not a buffer,
this is not a something equipped with
a "safety mechanism"...
        given that a self is perpetuated
within the confines of
a constant conflict with the "self"...
   a and italics / the and "ambiguity commas"...

well, there's always a place to start...
i find of like philosophy as being
a rigour associated with a satisfactory
form of vocab.,
       namely?
i can use the associated words bound
to a sentence with confidance...
unlike a ****** fiction writer,
sometimes dabbling into loan words
from a thesaurus, to, invoke:
an intelligence superiority...
  don't worry...
  when people lend themselves
to use a thesaurus, having exhausted
their adjective knowledge... it shows...

come on... a background in chemistry nouns?
3,5-methylhexane... you think?
that's the remains of a saxon past in english...
in chemistry...
germans spell like dr. faustus to begin with,
they, compound...
        the remains of a germanic past in
the current state of english shrapnel still
lives... in chemistry...
        hydrocarbons...
                  usually met with a hypen:
hydro-carbons...
       siebentausendzweihundertvierundfünfzig
(7,254)...
well, very german: what a waste of not employing
punctuation marks (', -) when it came
to the caterpillar 189, 819:
methionylthreonylthreonylglutaminylarginyl...isoleucine,

Me­thionylthreonylthreonylglutaminylarginyltyrosylglutamylserylleucy­lphenylalanylalanylglutaminylleucyllysylglutamylarginyllysylgluta­mylglycylalanylphenylalanylvalylprolylphenylalanylvalylthreonylle­ucylglycylaspartylprolylglycylisoleucylglutamylglutaminylserylleu­cyllysylisoleucylaspartylthreonylleucylisoleucylglutamylalanylgly­cylalanylaspartylalanylleucylglutamylleucylglycylisoleucylprolylp­henylalanylserylaspartylprolylleucylalanylaspartylglycylprolylthr­eonylisoleucylglutaminylasparaginylalanylthreonylleucyl arginylalanylphenylalanylalanylalanylglycylvalylthreonylprolylala­nylglutaminylcysteinylphenylalanylglutamylmethionylleucylalanylle­ucylisoleucylarginylglutaminyllysylhistidylprolylthreonylisoleucy­lprolylisoleucylglycylleucylleucylmethionyltyrosylalanylasparagin­ylleucylvalylphenylalanylasparaginyllysylglycylisoleucylaspartylg­lutamylphenylalanyltyrosylalanylglutaminylcysteinylglutamyllysylv­alylglycylvalylaspartylserylvalylleucylvalylalanylaspartylvalylpr­olylvalylglutaminylglutamylserylalanylprolylphenylalanylarg inylglutaminylalanylalanylleucylarginylhistidylasparaginylvalylal­anylprolylisoleucylphenylalanylisoleuc…

or just read the end of james joyce's ulysses
or jean-paul sarte's iron in the soul...
you do have to insert shrapenl punctuation
into this word...

but these are the last remains of the english language
being associated with a germanic origin:
compounding words...
             esp. in chemistry...
                

as any drunk would state,
to suffice...

    what was it that the luftwaffe
prescribed for the night raids
on London?

   and what did isis fighters
be prescribed?

    amphetamines?
n'oh!
   (minus the extended omega:
oooooo enough time
for a katy perry song,
an afternoon shower,
a slap in the face,
and then a few punches,
hey, jerking off became
boring)...

   so the british,
and a few polacks doing their
r.a.f. bit beat the germans
because?
   oh... **** no...
they were ingesting
an impediment factor,
durg, ****,
drunk, numb-skulled...

    we're talking counter
measure to the "enchanced"
mensch...
    high on amphetamines...
insomniac, but still going...
i guess the loci of
the amphetamine adventure
had to relocate to the anti-ego
focus of the phallus
in the variation of viagara...

****...
i care more for my giggles
and a friar tuck physiognomy...
seriously...
   it's more important than mere
gymnastics of
a freudian "metaphor"...
  ha ha...
   i guess conversation is
also allowed...
   try keeping that up...
given that most men are
******* into a solipsism...

     date nights... m'ah ah ha ha ha...
i figured that i don't
need french intellectuals to
redefine absurdity,
or german philosophers
to "redefine" existentialism,
i just needed to leech
off an nativistic english
"public"...

                      what the ruling
class spews:
   i reinterpret...
                  simple, 1 + 1 = 2...
crux, numbers,
   bounce back...
echo...
     compliment to the language...
as i stood in the shower thinking...
well isn't modern gaming
slightly "ingenious"...
money piggy...

or... reversed...
    provided the unlimited time
of experience...
no constraints,
just a game within a game,
like sims 3: making a sim
play a video game...
wormhole paradox
      and a brain shattering moment,
a jolt,

         these modern "free" games?
well... at least if you
do not invest in them,
are... games mostly associated with
time...
time is the game...

   whoever gets ****** into
the money laundering schemes
of these games,
forgot to read the cheat walkthroughs
akin to final fantasy VII,
because of homework,
and... Saturday mornings.

   **** air guitar:
here's to air drumming to posit
a point...

          the allies drunk their pint
of whiskey, slightly debilitated,
without the circumstance of feeding
a feeling of superiority,
the germans over-inflated
their superiority complex with
amphetamines...

         ergo?
    i'm either proper drunk, or just plain dumb,
or... it's related to listen, repeat,
listen, repeat: katy perry
  (sucker for POP!)....

      never mind...

games used to be fun,
games used to lead to a completion,
tenchu, that was fun,
final fantasy VII...
but this current,
money-sucker of an experience?
well... sure...
now games have reached
an anti checkmate conundrum
which it is...
because, the games are "free"...

           apparently time,
is perceived as a non-commodity...
tell that to someone stuck
in traffic...
      time: the "elder" flimsy
              construct of relativism...

try not giggling
while exchanging whislting to
either the british grenadier march song,
and the french la marseillaise...

   it's like eating pork liver with onions
fry funny...
    or at least a stew of chicken
hearts... tight tender little *******...

but modern gaming is just that...
ingenious counter measure
to the old school variation
of gaming,
    games... without fiction,
games, without script...
    continued perpetuation
of engagement "syndrome"...

     thank god,
i'm pretty sure that if i went beyond
owning a PS1,
i wouldn't have spotted this,
and have a narrative subsequently,
for the worth any sort
of compromise...

ergo? i drink...
   eh... i need to dumb down...
it wouldn't be fair otherwise...
it's not so easy,
to acquire a culture,
a psychology,
a mentality,
   and then...
     to ****... (grimmace, burp,
         snigger) it all away...

**** me, the flute always
gets me...
          i mean...
every time i hear that flute...
my feet at rambling,
itching to tap along...

   well of course it wasn't
the ******* jazzy clarinet,
was it?!
  tell that to the broad
who perfect a *******...
see if she comes back
as smart,
as smart to comply with
the intricacies
of playing, the ******* clarinet.

p.s.
aud lang syne: the only song,
of all time...
shakespeare seems
pale by comparison,
"side-note"...

          broad vs. brode,
******* giggles in the afternoon.

— The End —