"stalemate" poems
Flashback,
To that time we played blackjack
I was impressed by your ability to shuffle all the cards just like that,
&then; you showed me a magic trick with pistachio shells
Oh what a friendship it is when someone buys you peanuts and opens all the shells
Yeah confession;
You're in my sci fi screenplay
I think I wrote about you in the most innocent way
And theres a song that,
I currently have on replay...
And a smile that can't help but shine when I see your face
What a moment it is when you're sitting there on the bus and you just want to photograph it
Life's a chess game, and now its your move..
I'm standing on the front line,
I'm giving my horsey to you (haha)
Oh this life's a chess game,
One wrong move and I'll lose....
But here right now we're at a stalemate
All my pieces were going but the piece that remains, patiently waits
For you..
Oh with you I never want the game to end so soon
And I know that we can't fall in love
Cause we've got different ones for us
But what a friendship it is when none of that matters no more..
You're the chess opponent I've been waiting for,
You are.
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 3:31 AM UTC
Are We Playing a game of Chess?
If so this is a stalemate,
You're being so very stale Mate.
How can you determine a winner?
If No One makes the first move,
Or have you moved on to
A more simpler game,
Which requires less intellect
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
Elect me, Select Me
Support Me, Report Me
Democracy Needs Me
You all need Me
I am your Savior
I will fight for you
If there is no War
I shall start one for you
I am your Savior
I am your Warrior
Accept this Truth
Ultimate Truth
Beware if you Cheat Me
If you fail to Elect Me
I will break into the System
I will ruin it to Ashes
I follow this golden Rule
Either Win or Stalemate
I can initiate Religious Riots
I can give birth to Civil War
Therefore Elect Me, Select Me
Support Me, Report Me
Democracy Needs Me
You All Need Me
You all have no other Choice
So Never Ever search for it
I am your only Choice
So Stay Cool and Rejoice
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 5:08 AM UTC
Our blood is golden wine,
I’ve been told to try sweeter blends.
My cups lay in my favorite number but the unknown in my shadow still stand.
Inside could be my salty songs for a memory that never ends.
I pull you down underwater to see just how far you can be from the sand.
Eyes wide open to the flame of your being;
It’s confidence and conflict that drag me out of my stalemate.
A torch to gaze upon something I know to be worth seeing.
Whether together or apart we still crawl the same trail to feel and be something great.
The oleander and roses course through our veins like the wax that holds together our armor.
We’re meant to grow our vines past the heavens.
That’s the place that holds serenity and storms that you never have to barter;
Where admiration never leads to lessons.
To be strong through our valleys when we feel like we’ll never climb back up.
In this garden is the place where I can accept your oceans dichotomy.
No matter how many wands, no matter how many cups;
I’ll accept it completely but of course cautiously.
All the eyes can see all the burning in my hands.
What could be sparked by nature feels easier to light on my own.
Is it gasoline I smell on demand
Or has the apple already grown?
Jun 19, 2022
Jun 19, 2022 at 12:24 AM UTC
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
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 2:17 AM UTC
What’s more depressing than darkness,
More shameful than a golden fool,
As hopeless as a castrated bull,
As frustrating, as a stalemate, in chess?
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 7:23 AM UTC
Remoaners to the left, Brextremists to the right,
Theresa “Maggie” May has an uphill fight.
I can’t see her lasting many more days,
Unless she changes her stubborn ways.
Theresa is an immovable object.
Her hubby must be totally henpecked.
Trying to please just everyone,
Annoying all is what she’s done.
Right now she is UK Prime Minister,
But her own back benchers are getting sinister.
Some say she’s sold us down the river,
A thing for which they can’t forgive her.
Others claim she’s gone too far,
As we should stay just where we are.
Some see Europe as our friend,
But others say the UK we must defend.
Ireland is a sticking point
A thing that’s gonna rock the joint.
They don’t know where to put the border,
Without causing grief and disorder.
What an impasse, feels like stalemate,
Are we heading to be a slave state?
Who knows what’s going to happen next?
No wonder we are all perplexed.
Paul Butters
© PB 17\11\2018.
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 6:19 AM UTC
The resonating light left over was your last stance against the darkness..
You shine forth even after you are gone..
You halted the advance of such darkness..
A stalemate of shadow and light..
I am here because of your beacon..
As it calls out to me to finally push back this darkness..
This is you're echo of light::
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
Crowns embellished
with ebony bewitching.
A sliver of gold
pierces the veil.
Stalemate defined
by velveteen seas.
Eyes of steel incandescent
under the blacksmiths hands.
The finest sapphires inlaid.
A woman in hand
the mightiest of weapons.
Snowy mountains nourished
the victory of Man.
Gravid in mysticism
keeper of seeds
bloomed the Kings strength.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
(think Mexican Hat Dance:)
How tall? How tall? How tall?
Will Donald Trump build the wall?
The wall! The wall! The wall!
Will Mexico pay for it at all?
How high? How high? How high?
How high will they have to jump
To clear the wall and prove to us all
That they’ve pacified Donald Trump
(bump, bump)
To clear the wall and prove to us all
That they’ve pacified Donald Trump?
When you’re talking about immigration,
Whether merit based or chain migration,
According to Trump proclamation,
“Illegals, jump over the wall”!!
(NOT AT ALL!!)
How tall? How tall? How tall?
Can Donald Trump build the wall
When not a single Democrat
Is willing to fund it at all?
How long? How long? How long?
How long do we have to wait
To end this shutdown?
When they sit their butts down
To end this gridlock stalemate!!
Consider the workers who are not getting paid;
That is the part we most hate!!
To achieve our homeland protection,
Not just winning the 2020 election,
The Pelosi and Schumer connection
Should grant funding to give Trump OUR wall!!
Give Pelosi and Schumer
A kick in the bloomers
If they continue to stall!!
Written 1/15/19 by Marcus Well
(day 25 of the US Government Partial Shutdown)
(Who the hell is Marcus Well? Those that know, please don’t tell)
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 5:07 PM UTC
Doctor O doctor.
Can you treat me?
This aweful mind refuses to greet me!
I'v been having trouble controling my thoughts.
Outbursts of creativity and crazy wandering thoughts.
I have work to do and need to concentrate!
But these wandering thoughts have me on stalemate.
The thoughts go here and the mind goes there,
They do not seem to coincide anywhere.
Doctor O doctor can you help me?
Bring these thoughts into order,
and let this mind be.
It concentrates of war,
it concentrates on pain.
None of which have any prospect of gain.
It concentrates on hate,
and the ever growing weight,
Of the population that refuses to wait.
No tollerance or patience,
No thoughts on moulding this nation.
Just fights on rights,
And pointing fingers with might!
No one looks at their duties,
Or the subtle beauties.
Beauty of diversity, and the numerous entities.
That form our great nation.
All it need is unadulterated devotion.
I have work to do and need to concentrate!
But these wandering thoughts have me on stalemate.
The thoughts go here and the mind goes there,
They do not seem to coincide anywhere.
Doctor O doctor can you help me?
Bring these thoughts into order,
and let this mind be.
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 10:21 AM UTC
I called a friend of mine,
you see I've always scratched her back
you know and she's scratched mine.
What makes me crazy is that
she's always one to take,
she's always on the make.
You gimmie and grab
and turn around and gouge
out my eyes,
you talk real ****
you don't answer any of my whys.
My thousands of whys.
Well so long now,
sorry but I got to go...
Yes so long, it's been a slice,
shaking loose of you is like
putting down a vice.
Golden earrings and pretty bobbles
couldn't clean up your act.
You've walked barefoot across the floor, broken fragments of glass,
everywhere, and you were there,
but, oh so was I.
I was there too
I've given you my very best,
yes I've given you my very best,
and what do I get?
I get treated worse than all of them,
worse than all the rest.
I wish I could remember
if it was a movie or if
I heard it in a dream.
It doesn't matter much now,
Because when
I see you coming
I just want to leave.
Just like Dylan said, "A whole lot of people dying tonight
from the disease of conceit."
I've tried taking you aside
and softly admonishing you,
that ended in a stalemate,
what good did it do..
You wore my Austrailian hat and battered it black and blue.
You took my painting and threw away the frame,
I lend you money
and you drink it away.
I don't talk about drawing a line,
I just do it and
if you're in you're right mind
you won't cross it
unless you really want
the **** to hit the fan.
This conflict, I must confess,
well it can make me cry.
every time you
turn around
you're telling me another lie.
I feel a lot of ambivalence .
I don't want to hear you any more.
Some times I think I want silence,
some times I think I want to even the score.
Man, I am on
cloud nine,
look what anger does,
as if I'm in a fight.
I just get to average,
but by no means normal,
the only normal I have found
is the cycle on a washing machine.
I'm not sinkin' in a hole
that was dug real deep by you,
thinking
this old world is all ****** up
and
you don't want to play the game,
You'd just end up leaving me,
so sad and feeling so full of shame.
Do you love me, let me count the ways,
it's not that I don't care,
it's not that I don't want to be there.
I just don't know any more...
what's that sound
telling me I have fix it,
that I have to
put it right.
Now you're looking
to put me down,
always wanting
to start a fight.
You're acting so abstract,
while with me it's so 'as a matter of fact'.
Knowing no one has even half the answers.
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 1:44 AM UTC
competition.
the art of discrimination.
its product, the
inferior,
whether by speed, smarts, billiards or darts.
(a race to the end-all 'i am victorious')
a winner and a loser,
for a stalemate cannot be met with ease
when such players practice with expertise.
rebellion, revolution.
two words that can stand alone
when we all stand together.
i feel an uprising of the subordinate few,
growing and brewing beneath our very shoes.
who had a clue? maybe i, but you?
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 12:06 AM UTC
Gene and Jenny Taylor
Had long been man and wife
But a heinous disagreement
Took a hold upon their life
For each bemoaned their tackle
It was Gene who started first
He justified why dangly bits
Were easily the worst
“They tangle in your underwear
And twist themselves about
If I sit down in football shorts
They try to wriggle out
They chafe on nearly everything
They’re difficult to dry
And when it’s hot an humid out
They’re welded to your thigh”
Jenny swiftly countered him
“Well ***** are surely worst
For shaving is laborious
And not all lips are pursed
The periods are painful
With a week of aggravation
And we use three times the toilet roll
And cause deforestation “
But Gene had more to muster
“Well the ***** is a *******
And hiding an ********
Is a skill each man has mastered
They lead us into jeopardy
They always take the ****
And first thing in the morning
They’ve a tendency to miss”
So Jenny said “Vaginas
Are a curse between the thighs
And lady bits look monstrous
To anyone with eyes
They’re prone to thrush and fondling
And embryo gestation
***** are only any good
For use in aviation”
Gene and Jenny caught their breath
The stalemate was called
For genitals, the lips and *****
Or **** and hairy *****
Are vital to our species
More useful than they seem
And you’ll see a marked improvement
When they’re working as a team
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 7:14 AM UTC
Some days you have the ability,
others on a shopping spree.
Dressing clean, ultra supreme.
To live is just a dream that only you can see with binoculars.
I live in our own aura, the World and I. Where we can kickback, sleek the ruffles out of our curtains.
With blood sleeking down the glass window pane, the beginning of a crystal clear scheme
with crimson stains.
A passing by expert, I have yet to earn what removed hastes to which I should come to a slower pace.
Push you into my fool, a clown to a stalemate.
Copping everything on a shopping spree, my feet don’t touch the ground, they elevate.
Now I’m trying to jam using these hands, but one grips at fear.
I don’t have time for tainted misused feelings.
I have to make them squeal for me. Hide in the bushes, they want to be seen with me. Using correct of muscle, I hold me. Carrying all these packages, I’m the one you want.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 3:03 PM UTC
If I don't attain you after 6 years,
I'll turn a hermit for sure, so sure.
A hermit entire life I'll despise it,
I'll bunk society for sure, so sure.
The society will bear the blame,
Apart from me it is responsible.
For your scary future decision,
I will lead the life of an ascetic.
Turning a patient seems better,
Leading a loner's life is awful.
Would be calling me life-long,
A traumatized stalemate state.
This is no blackmail but truth,
Bitter it may seem but it's better to turn a hermit if I don't get you.
Because achieving is love for me,
Silent love is not my thing dear.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
I played the game, alone.
I talk to the air,
Imagining a friend who isn’t there.
My brain’s dual thinking.
- Checkmate -
Personification in strike
Persona’s colliding stake
- Stalemate -
Hello there my stuffed friend
Looks like we are a matched.
We’re Latched,
Encased in the four corners of our walls.
You know I feel restless looking at your frozen face.
Playing with stillness is a hollowed void.
Engross with my ever changing fantasy.
Choosing to ignore reality.
A sad case of my mortality.
- Workmate -
Music patched the necessary unattached realm.
Stories powered the desires to dream the unchallenged dream.
Life is a walking daydream.
- Lostmate -
There are those would think I am coward
And then I box myself not to move forward.
I fear what lurks behind someone’s soul,
Fearing I am not worthy of my own coal.
A charade of personas, hiding.
Tilting the crowd as if I am never there, post acting.
- Soulmate -
Believing you are near,
somewhere far behind that unseen chamber door.
- Castmate -
Sometimes I am just tired of this game.
Whispers of the wind, believing I am tamed.
Sometimes all I need is a real friend
That will hug-out the negative trend
For me to transcend
To the realistic perspective
Waking the sleeping life’s motive.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 1:14 AM UTC
we entered the empty hall.
we were a little too late.
the lights fell onto us.
we both froze over in a stalemate.
a sad love song played over
the wicked cupid used us as pawns
for i'd have never given you my hand
had i'd known you'd soon be gone
but you smiled at me so kindly
i had never seen a smile so bright
i smiled back politely
naive me thought the timing was just right.
our bodies pressed perfectly together
we both swayed to the beat of our hearts
our eyes kissed, our heels clicked.
heaven knew we played our parts
but the little lights began to dim,
and the love song, soon after, died.
we were two slow dancers
thus too slow, from time, to hide.
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 9:17 PM UTC
My mind offers a compromise
Which is instantly refuted
Shot down
I’m absolutely amazed by the sheer
Number of superficial constraints placed
Upon me, my superstitions, my desires, my obligations
Each one currently impossibly to fulfill
Each side impossible to sait
And so,
A stalemate
Sitting here, doing nothing
Unmoving, but
Thoughts whirling about
Fidget spinners, or
Bablades repeatedly clashing
Repeatedly smashing
Till it’s just me and the broken debre
But,
All you see
Is a girl
Too lazy to move
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 7:45 PM UTC
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.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 3:45 AM UTC
I'm waiting on a number of things:
When will you reply, though I gave you wings
To fly away if you will, and you have the right;
I'm waiting for inspiration to strike me in the night
That I am again OK without you - I don't need to feel
My heart implode when I read my old poetry, to steel
Myself when I see apparitions of what I had desired,
To blush and reproach myself for being lost, uninspired,
And pining after you again like a whipped cur; When
You hold space for me IRL
And my messages aren't a URL
Of something that I thought would resonate with you, again
I lose myself, hoping I can gain because you gain, and then
It just feels like I'm throwing my love into a void, again.
I don't just give energy like that; I don't just give thoughts;
I was divinely inspired, and I thought your beauty grand
And lovely, and still those aren't the words, and still this Noughts
& Crosses is a stalemate; And you're cross, and I'm five grand
For nought, and flippin' babbling because I'm so, so lost
And I long for your presence and your voice for me, warm as toast,
Nourishing as honey, real like salt, alive for water, and eternal
And lavender. I can forget roses, even if you like them too; lavender, like you, is eternal.
Feb 28, 2022
Feb 28, 2022 at 3:55 PM UTC
Stalemate.
No one can move
All other pieces are gone
Just the two kinds
Endlessly circling the board
Afraid to get close
So it is impossible
And the black flies
Laugh from overhead
Assured of a feast
In good time
As their strength dwindles
And the two kings sway
Their patterns through the squares
Toppling to span several
Even in death
At least one square between
These two
As the commentators
Swoop in to
Claim their prize
Mar 7, 2011
Mar 7, 2011 at 12:58 PM UTC
Noughts and crosses
Pains and loses
Heartbreak on repeat
The boring same beat
A game of stalemate
A life wrapped in fate
And it's not over
Three in a line
And it's not over
I guess I'll be fine.
Circles and lies
Fail to dry my eyes
Can I not cry?
You could not even say goodbye.
Not much to win
For, these weak bones are thin
My thoughts are not real
Your mind will not care how I feel.
And it's never over
Three or six in a line
And it's never over
My soul did once shine.
Leave this life
You created in your mind.
For you and I
Have had our time.
Noughts and crosses
Uncontrollable forces
A wild, empty city
Busy faces with no pity.
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 5:15 PM UTC
It is a wonderful thing, when the willows doze,
at the stillness of a winter breeze.
The season settles, and it never goes,
with the passing dues at ease.
The heart so stale... the dreams so pale...
But she would dance a-still!
She would turn the world around,
and she would would bring the walls to sound,
and she... would run the waters still!
The stalemate arises, all so subtle,
and the wind in willows, hurdled in muddle,
would fly no more, until...
She sings to be, she sings to me...
And then she would cry, and I shall cease to be!
A.r. Bazian
January 1st, 2017
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
our protective measures
keep each other
at bay
years of abandonment,
tears shed without
reciprocation
has dragged us
to this
stalemate
you're not
supposed to
meet
someone
new
someone
kind
someone
healing
while you're healing
yourself
Jun 15, 2022
Jun 15, 2022 at 12:55 AM UTC