Please turn on javascript in your browser to play chess.
Only Chess Forum

Only Chess Forum

  1. Standard member KJCavalier
    Happier Now!!
    05 Dec '12 11:24
    First I will unequivocally state I did not write these. Some groan some smile all are on chess.
  2. Standard member KJCavalier
    Happier Now!!
    05 Dec '12 11:24 / 1 edit

    Big and powerful,
    Checking, crossing, fighting,
    It's going to checkmate me,

    Hao Wang

    Chess And Arms

    He lifted his arms,
    "Mate soon!," he said
    As he locked his fingers
    Behind his head.

    He considered the move
    He was soon to make
    That would end the struggle.
    This victory he'd take.

    He arched his back,
    Took a satisfied breath,
    Then looked at me
    Like the spectre of death.

    An impish smile
    Stretched across his face,
    And his eyes rolled back
    In a pleased grimace.

    "My rook goes here
    And takes your queen,
    Then my knight jumps to
    Where your bishop has been."

    I studied the board.
    He was quite correct.
    His analysis clear.
    His calculations checked.

    I searched my brain
    For the right finesse
    A subtle move that would
    Display my best.

    Then Cassia spoke
    My muse! My rhyme!
    I pointed to his clock,
    "You're out of time."



    She makes her move and hits the clock
    On my poor Kingside she's got a lock
    Down the file her Queen comes like a truck
    This time I think I'm out of luck
    Her Blue eyes sparkle as she captures my Rook
    She's playing so fast, it must be all Book
    She think she's got me up a tree
    Yea, guess she spotted that Mate in three
    My clock is running Tick Tock, Tick Tock
    I'm between the hard place and a Rock
    A quick glance at her & I see her grin
    She's ready to chalk up another Win
    Flag is hanging, it's my move, and YES, by Heck
    Now it's a Draw by perpetual Check!
    I'm kinda glad I didn't win, I hate to be rude
    But it is disconcerting when she plays in the Nude

    Chandler Yergin

    Pawn to Queen Four

    There I go again, pushing Pawn to Queen 4.
    I uncross my legs and put both feet on the floor.
    My subconscious move when playing this game,
    A repetitious move, it's always the same.
    I throw him my Gambit, yes he jumps at the chance.
    He slammed down his piece,
    But it's my turn to dance.
    Hand on my forehead, I get in my groove,
    Swallowing his spit, he makes his next move.
    With his rook open wide. I spring out my trap.
    I bring my queen out, now my hands on my lap.
    With my queen standing tall and his rook soon to fall,
    His chest sinks to his stomach.
    Winning this game, he sees he's unable,
    Lying his king down flat on the table.
    We extend out our hands,
    Cause we two are the same,
    Nodding our heads, and we both say,
    "Good Game!"

    Dean Reinglas

    Castle Courtesy

    If u wanna get down & dirty then we can go low
    Guess what now the queens royalty status is cleaning off your back row

    Just a lil longer, not far to go
    Im gone make this game worthwhile
    and at the same time freestyle
    as I give you a run for your money for sho`
    This pretty pawn has infiltrated, your king is stuck
    Now my darling, you`re shyt outta luck

    your defense is late...
    Did I forget to mention the magic words checkmate

    Melissa Carruthers Wilson

    Chess Poem

    He stares at you,
    Watching your every move.
    Does he know?
    He makes his move.
    You breathe again,
    Counting on logic,
    You see it all come together.
    Hoping that your accusations are true,
    Calm and quiet, you make your move.
    You take a deep breath,
    Hoping the next game is as lucky as the last

    Anon - submitted by Anon



    What a game.
    Complicated, intricate, demanding and consuming
    Sometimes it has been a challenge
    An escape
    a distraction
    mostly a passion.

    There is beauty in this game.
    The coordination of pieces
    Their individual movement and power
    The sometimes surgical precision of a Checkmate
    or the fierceness of a long drawn out battle
    to the very last piece

    And the people I've played across the board
    The opponents
    few were actual enemies

    The game being the door to many friendships
    drawn to each other by the basic love
    of a complicated game.

    That invokes comraderie, companionship and respect
    for you learn just as much from your opponent
    as you do the game.

    Chess grabs you by the throat
    forces you to live by that
    most basic of principles
    "Thou shalt think"

    As you play you are always seeking
    that perfect move
    that beautiful combination
    that better position
    To win in spite of the devious tricks
    of your opponent
    Tactics, exchanges, mating attacks,
    retreats, flanking movements, pins, swindles,
    trades, sweeping victories, resounding defeats

    infinite possibilities for both of you
    The moment you move the first piece
    Every game like a horse race
    The dark horse can always win

    Always a measurement of skill and knowledge
    But knowledge is never enough
    A true lesson of life
    How to utilize knowledge and skill

    And there is a wicked pleasure in this game
    to disrupt your opponent's position
    to steal his pieces
    to thwart his attacks
    to snatch victory from his side and
    make it your own
    A delicious thrill
    to outcon the conman
    to outsteal the thief
    to trump the gambler
    to beat the crook at his own trade

    for Chess has its own world
    where sportsmanship and basic rules of play
    provide a wide open field of possibilities
    where you both can appreciate
    the beauty of a well played swindle or trick
    A surprise move
    a hidden threat
    the con and the bluff

    And in Chess
    There is no room for complacency
    No resting on your laurels
    Arrogance will always be humbled
    Conceit reprimanded and foolishness educated.

    Submitted by Brian Wall, printed with permission from Elizabeth L. Scott Casper, Wyoming 1-307-265-3861 Copyrighted

    Long Live The King

    Light penetrates the darken paths
    Of the scarred grounds of an English battlefield
    Home to men, in pursuit of a king's dream,
    To only suffer the wrath of another.
    But fearlessly they marched on
    To death seemingly, but unknown
    Archers fired; Chariots rode,
    Until blood masked their shields
    And Chain mail clashed no more.
    Then Out of the darkness, into the light
    Stood nothing more than a mere foot soldier
    Although proceeded in battle with many,
    He returned home alone.
    He closes his eyes in remembrance
    Of the remains of once was
    And silently cites a prayer, to the merciful God above.
    Upon opening his eyes he stands there straight
    With the victorious spirit of those before
    Then darkness recedes, trenches dissipate,
    Leaving signs of a war no more.
    Gradually....... He too, fades,
    A mere figment of imagination.
    Long lives the king he echoes,

    As I announce checkmate.

    Submitted by Sharita

    Scholars mate


    Submitted by Anthony Grzyb. (Little does he know I invented this yet-to-be-refuted opening - JE)

    Chess Poem

    kings knight and queens rook fell side by side one night
    the new days light puts them back in line
    the rook waits for night to fall again watching as the knight takes many a pawn
    Anon - submitted by Anon

    Chess Poem

    Battlefield of Life

    I make this pledge to you alone,
    that I shall serve your royal throne.
    My silver sword, I gladly wield.
    Squares eight times eight the battlefield.

    With knights upon their mighty steed
    the front line pawns have vowed to bleed
    and neither Queen shall ever yield.
    Squares eight times eight the battlefield.

    The castle walls protect our back
    and Bishops plan for their attack;
    a master plan that is concealed.
    Squares eight times eight the battlefield.

    For chess is but a game of life
    and I your Queen, a loving wife
    shall guard my liege and raise my shield.
    Squares eight times eight the battlefield.
    Anon - submitted by Amera M. Andersen

    Chess Poem

    chess oh great king
    oh great king that is never with out vaesl, seeking out only castle, your men mark a line and make a stand for their hopes and dreams all lie in your hands.
    oh great king that holds the mandate of heaven cry out your wish and the skys will turn into swords and come to thy aid
    oh great king you need just say the word and we your men will make the battlefield, turn into a pit of hellfire for our enemy.
    submitted by fernando

    Chess Poem

    These are from the CHECKMATE series in TD Euwait's book PAVLOV'S CAT
    The White Queen

    She must move first
    Thin vanguard of Pawns
    Or knights leaping forward,
    Shes crowded in tight with faith and family
    And two turrets flanking,

    She waits, unable to take a step herself, then pushes a Pawn by two.

    The black Bishop
    His Knight alongside riding
    They wait without pity
    But first, Black must front her Pawn with Pawn.

    She answers, pulling faiths White bishop into the slot to chastise

    Cross or black Crown
    The black King ponders
    Pawns will not quench his insatiable thirst as Power Pieces can.

    He sees her there, and her actionless King
    She builds a nice wall of players,
    But, he will have her.

    The pitched battles gridlocked on off-colored squares,
    Nowhere for succor or solace
    No part or portion off limits.

    White moves, Black moves
    White attacks, Black defends

    Who will win, in the end, the first move offends


    The White Pawn

    Identical, these eight on line
    Shining miniatures of Bishop and King
    Striking at will
    since granted first move

    Aggression or Death the White Credo
    Youre handed the advantage, now take it
    No mistake, Black King wants you dead

    Move forward, move fast, move en mass
    The game will not last long after
    You are piled aside the board
    submitted by TD Euwait

    Chess Poem

    Subject: My Dad's Chess poem ( 77 years old )


    In my craft or sullen art
    Exercised in the still night
    When only the potzer rages
    Any my love lies in zugswang
    Trapped in a futile back and forth.

    I labor by singing light
    Not for ambition or bread
    But for cheap aluminum trophies
    Making glad my bitter heart.
    submitted by Brian Wall
  3. Standard member SwissGambit
    Caninus Interruptus
    05 Dec '12 18:32 / 1 edit
    It's Just a Game

    Tell that to the Bishop,
    who, staying on the straight and narrow, protects the roadways assigned to him,
    ready to plunge into danger for victory.

    Try saying this to the Knight,
    who jumps friend and foe, seeking the optimum post,
    while eyeing weaknesses within the enemy camp.

    Deliver that news to the Pawn,
    a foot soldier, who moves ahead with vigor
    in search of the ultimate metamorphism, knowing all too well he can never retreat,
    who fools his enemies with his forward gaze,
    only to surprise them with his deadly peripheral vision.

    Say that to the Rook,
    whose life aspiration is to sit upon the enemy doorstep,
    placing the opposing king on house arrest.

    Inform the Queen,
    who stays close to home at war's start,
    too important to stray before mere minors collapse,
    her vision limitless, her strike deadly.

    Then make this declaration to the King,
    the one whose army will sacrifice their lives for his rule,
    at war's near end, with carnage strewn, he storms the land in search of opposition,
    demanding victory, to draw is unacceptable.

    For those carved from stone and wood, chess is not just a game;
    it is the epic battle of life.

    -Diane Barnard, 2005
  4. 05 Dec '12 18:57
    "It's a trap!" - Admiral Akbar
  5. Standard member SwissGambit
    Caninus Interruptus
    05 Dec '12 20:24
    Her eyes burned like the glare of red lacquered pieces in bright fluorescent light
    I went for a direct mate
    Hoping she would make it a helpmate
    But I ran into a stalemate
    So home I went to self-mate.
  6. 05 Dec '12 20:42
    I THINK that I shall never see
    A pawn lovely as about to queen.

    A pawn whose hungry mouth is prest
    Against the sweet 7th's flowing breast;

    A pawn that looks to march all day,
    And deliver checkmate to its prey;

    A pawn that may in summer wear
    A bishop's cross in its hair;

    Upon whose opponent's king is slain;
    Who intimately gives a cringe of pain.

    Poems are made by fools like me,
    But only pawns can make three queens.
  7. Standard member Agerg
    The 'edit'or
    07 Dec '12 03:30 / 1 edit
    I still haven't got round to writing the third (it'll be a stalemate) and final, but here are a couple I posted a while ago...

    Poem 1
    The Kings eyes move now from his Queen
    To the grounds ahead, deathly serene.
    Far ahead darks' swords do rattle,
    Today will be a bloody battle

    "Charge my friends, take e4!"
    and so pawns march, to die once more.
    Swiftly comes black's grim response
    "Quick you fools!, e5 at once!!"

    Cavalry race forwards from their ranks
    and stop dark knights taking the flanks
    Black bishops dance and grin with mirth
    as they summon demons to scorch the earth

    White bishops call their gods of wonder
    The skies now boom with flash and thunder
    The queen rides forth with all her powers
    The king takes refuge in his towers

    All his forces in position
    He contemplates his next decision
    Black minions charge, e4's overrun
    Swords start clashing, war has begun!

    With pawns bogged down, white calls it's brave
    to trick the blacks into an early grave
    But these feints are met with ghastly cunning,
    Once fearless knights are now seen running

    More gambits dodged and ploys repelled
    a drawn out slog will not be quelled.
    The way ahead to black's dark hold
    is closed by an evil that does not fold.

    But the king now rides to join the fighting,
    Whites' spirits are bolstered by this sighting.
    And as black troops feel the war going sour
    they join their master to skulk and cower.

    Both sides numbers a fraction of the all
    It won't be long till one should fall.
    But white the stronger they assault blacks' lair
    That they win or lose shall will be decided there.

    One final scheme is left to a pawn
    To the end of the world his feet are blown.
    And as reward for white, the queen given back
    is a final nail in the coffin for black

    Poem 2
    From blackened wood and rusted metal,
    Black's king reborn has a score to settle.
    Shadows shiver, and the ground turns black,
    His line reforms for a new attack.

    With a hearty laugh and beaming grin,
    White's king expects another win.
    His forces rally, and eager for war,
    They do not wait - they charge e4.

    With lessons learnt blacks take g6,
    It is from the wings they'll weave their tricks.
    White pawns cheer and grab d4,
    Taking dominion over the middle floor.

    Black responds, again not violent,
    They push b6, slow and silent.
    To central squares white bishops race,
    Whilst behind their pawns black's take their place.

    More moves from white secure the centre,
    An imposing front black cannot enter.
    More moves from black are calm and steady,
    Hiding their schemes until they're ready.

    With both kings safe on the eastern side,
    White armies charge as blacks still hide.
    Black pawns break rank far to the west,
    and to kill them there is now white's quest.

    But for black's doomed pawns there comes no aid,
    It is towards the east black points its blade!
    With white engaged so far from the king,
    Blacks now unleash their deadly sting.

    The killings stop, white forces panic,
    The roar from black is cruel and manic.
    Those that stayed to guard their lord,
    Are now too few to thwart blacks' horde.

    A sleeping queen white tries to bluff,
    But to black this gift is not enough.
    With excited frenzy they break whites' wall,
    and one by one whites' pieces fall.

    The white king flees to avoid a mating,
    But outside his fort the blacks are waiting.
    They shepherd him towards their side,
    and on blacks' door is where he died.