"checkmated" poems
heart turned as heavy as metal
sinking down, it's an uncanny battle
stomach twisting, can you feel it contort?
someone once said that life's a contest of sorts
I've created stories patented for myself
yet they still belong to somebody else
I've found love in nooks and crannies
only for it to be ripped away potently
with confidence, I'll make my move
only to be checkmated with crude
I'll pack my belongings in a metal crater
my head's been submerged underwater
chlorine stains the tips of my hair
I close my eyes and she's not even there
the crowd thinks that they might know her
scream the chorus, play the player
when will you see that the glass's been shattered?
she's viewing herself through minuscule scatters
do you not see that her head's a mess?
she's losing the strive, won't be the best
history is repeating
can you feel the wind?
cold as ice
while she's paper-thin
they drag me out of the pool
unwillingly, I go
the men are worried
the women don't show
the poison burns like fuel and fire
life's a train, it's advancing forward
I imagine myself walking through compartments
everyone's now in a different department
Aug 16, 2024
Aug 16, 2024 at 1:43 PM UTC
I see it all laid out before me.
I wanted someone to hold
Love, appreciate, entertain, and comfort
and the same I sought in return.
You gave me that when you
moved that first pawn into place
And from there, everything was set
You checkmated me
And then went to play with someone else
without so much as a "Good game"
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 8:13 PM UTC
1.
Then comes the day when
I on a clay-tiled floor lie spread-eagled,
a box of chess pieces toppled over the checkerboard,
wracked by phenomenal indecisions--
should it be the rook, the bishop, the pawn?
Oh from all directions checkmated!
2.
And at sunset,
when the birds on tired wings fly to roost
and the whole earth is suffused in a golden glow,
a door opens
at the far end of a dark corridor.
Light skids down the floor,
like skaters sliding down a silent slope.
Words vanish to open a void...
The strains of a poem
trip lightly in!
3.
Was it long ago, or just yesterday?—
In a flickering moment of revelation,
when the distant lighthouse swung its beam
past my windless sail,
did I quiver?
Like this, did I quiver?
Was it the chill on the open seas?
Or, was it
your soft tread on my cabin floor?
Do I remember? Don’t I remember?...
4.
At your touch
I turn a bubble,
a bubble,
balanced on the tip of a thorn,
On this windless evening!
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 11:40 AM UTC
Stunned played by fate
She didn't play
any Chess games
to know
to Sheikh-mat cut off timely
the stonefish proud Greek
in his own chess biggoted
many a game with
non Greek queens
She noticed his weird gaze
morph his face
uglily though as he spoke of marriage deceivingly so
the mad Greek had been checkmated
by Greek evil Medeas
the freak in his far away land
Hellenic chess game of lure
under their jealous spell
of Synanceiidae
stonefish medea Kiriaki
and her many more Medeas
knowing his record
marked his queen for death
The geek proudly ignored
She me had checkmated
with great value King
American elite
in the chess game of life
having checkmated
such a valued King
she had won the chess game
of Life and love
knowing Chess games or not
She then sheikhmat
his deceptive Greek gaze
bone fish old man
She was no Queen in power
to move freely away
but she fled soon as she could
anyway
And as her true King
has the value
the queen has the power
for moving freely so
in his palatic home
to lose the value King though
cornered in his castle's bed
by other Queens
And in this Chess game
of life
to lose the value King
is losing the Chess game
and every other treasures
promised or received
this is a wise matter to know
to not lose
the many other games
surely to come
reigning at the king's court
In looking for love
dear queens!
know your chess game rules
calling out check mate timely
wins heaven on Earth
and the willing King's love
each time
~~~~~~~~~
By:Karijinbba
03-30-2020
~~~~~~~~
revised 04-28-20
Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 2:58 PM UTC
scars are love and memory from the world
which (though oft accused of indifference)
does care enough to pierce the skin
not the broken glass
not the rusty nail
not the bedspring from an old mattress
or the handsaw that slipped
or the edge of the coffee table to a wobbly toddler
not the knife
or scissors
too blunt at first - but try, try again
not the careless indifference of others
made manifest in flesh
or the million failures headaches heartaches
sicknesses
tears
no, pain never forgotten is formed
on brain and skin
just like cheeks flushed, heart pounding, sweat-dripping
you make your move and are checkmated by a far
more skilled opponent-- it doesn't take much
feel something if you try
feel alive and awake and know
that somebody loves you, and remembers
just like your skin.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
It was raining
so I invited Enid
in to learn
how to play chess
I shut the front door
of the flat
and we went past the kitchen
where Mum was doing
the washing in the boiler
just showing Enid
how to play chess
I said to Mum
she looked at Enid
and smiled and said
make sure he doesn't cheat
Enid nodded and smiled
and we went into the sitting room
and sat at the table
in front of the window
which gave us extra light
I got the chess box
from the side
and opened it up
and put down the chessboard
and showed Enid
where the pieces went
and how they could move
and how many times
and gave her the whites
and I had the black pieces
you go first
I said
because you're white
she looked at her pieces
which piece can I move first?
any pieces provided
it moves as I showed you
she gazed at the chessboard
and this piece is called the prawn?
she said
no pawn
I said
it's like a common soldier
it moves as I showed you
she hesitated her small
9 year old fingers lingering
over the pawn
forgot where
and how it can move
she said looking at me
I smiled and showed her
how the pieces moved again
she watched
think I've got it now
she said
ok off you go
I said
she moved her first pawn
and then sat back pleased
that she'd moved a piece
how's your old man?
I asked
she looked at me
her eyes bright through
her thick lens glasses
he hasn't hit me or Mum yet
she said
that's nearly two weeks
and he's been all nice
and patient and not rowed
and Mum's happy
in a nervous kind of way
Enid said
I moved my black pawn
do you think he'll go back
to how he was?
I said
hope not
she said
moving another white pawn
that's what I fear each morning
that he's gone back
to being as he was
and that'll come in my room
one morning and slipper me
or hit me around the head
in my bed
I moved my knight
to the front of my army
take each day as it comes
I said
we played out the game
I took all her pieces but one
her king
and he I checkmated
and won.
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 1:50 AM UTC
slammed down with a smirk, and
a counter; smile turned scowl
as I get checkmated. Some days it's
the rush of victory, feeling higher
than the sun itself, and some days its
the sigh and reluctant handshake of
defeat. It never mattered the outcome;
what mattered were the people, the place
the energy of a bunch of nerds who love
that same rush we all get from another
hand, another card, another game.
"Let's duel!"
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 10:14 AM UTC
The pawns are lining abreast shoulder to shoulder. The King the queen rooks knights and bishops are ready and both side are ready awaiting for the mysterious hands to lift them up from their spots. The ancient game can commence.
The papers neatly stacked. The pen in the olden days is inked poised for a poet's hand to place it onto the blank piece of paper to begin its journey.
The pieces are moved in turn one after the other until a player concedes and defeated.
The poet placed words one followed by another until the work is completed.
Whether one play like a patzer or grandmaster depends on one's knowledge and mental capacity.
Similarly a poet through experience will write according to the level to a given technical know how foresight and mental ability.
Poetry is the art of expression of mind with words through every known emotional state. The art of crafting words with awe.
Chess the art of intellectual intelligence of territorial ********** The art of war.
Poetry and chess are like art mathematics science and music and both are life.
The attitude in chess is to play well and mine is a quest to write my best. To write what I like and to like what I wrote.
And to write till my pen ends its traveling
The King is checkmated the game is over
I won't be a Hardy a Frost or a Browning
I am but a pawn and an incorrigible rhymer.
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 12:01 PM UTC
Barcelona played chess
with a ball, created an
optical illusion for the
fans, mesmerised the
camera's not to mention
Sevilla's goalkeeper who
was looking for the bean
under a shell, but, Messi
checkmated Monarchally.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 9:39 AM UTC
Just in case
its been miss communicated.
Are government
Has been heavily underestimated.
And unless you chose
to become acclimated.
And let you mind become
Contaminated.
While each generation
is more uneducated.
Just a dying breed
being **********
Cops stories being fabricated.
That's why they are becoming abominated.
Its all a story that's been fabricated.
What is that me
I've been duplicated
I'm not talking cartoons
My cells have been fabricated
From money that's been allocated.
To companies that have become conglomerated.
While there CEO'S
are greatly compensated.
They keep us all checkmated.
By making our jobs automated.
With machines making jobs eliminated.
And our wages are all but dissipated.
They try to keep us alienated.
Why our lives are infiltrated.
They know whether or not what we drink is decaffeinated.
All are privacy has been decimated.
Thanks to technology that has been created.
But just as all things can be hated.
We the people our power can be demonstrated.
Before we become annihilated.
By those who keep us alienated.
Why their plan is becoming accelerated.
Taking our freedom
its confiscated.
Adding chemicals to our foods keeping minds contaminated.
Our minds our manipulated and captivated.
As bombs detonated cause innocent to be devastated.
Can't you see us so frustrated.
Its time for them to be investigated.
All mighty companies to be separated.
So all companies can be family orientated.
It was we the people when we became declarated.
But we gave our freedom away
To become isolated.
Its time to stand up
Its time to be liberated.
Before they make us all medicated.
Take my words as ye will
I may be opinionated.
But heed my warning
Its all being orchestrated.
Our end is prefabricated.
Our civilization will be eradicated.
Unless we become reeducated.
And those behind it all are eliminated.
Written By RICHARD B SHICK
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 1:10 AM UTC