Chess Poetry

First I will unequivocally state I did not write these. Some groan some smile all are on chess.

Cinquain


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

Hao Wang
2005



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."

FishOn
2001



THE GAME

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
2002


Pawn to Queen Four

P-Q4
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
2003


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
2004


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.
Check...Mate!
You take a deep breath,
Hoping the next game is as lucky as the last

Anon - submitted by Anon
2004


Chess

Chess

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
2006


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
2006


Scholars mate

e4,e5
qa4,nf6
bf4,bf5
qc2
CHECKMATE!

Submitted by Anthony Grzyb. (Little does he know I invented this yet-to-be-refuted opening - JE)
2006


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
2006


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
2008

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
2011

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
2011

Chess Poem

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

MY LOVE LIES IN ZUGSWANG


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
2011

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

"It's a trap!" - Admiral Akbar

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.
😞

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.

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.