Darling, our love is like a chess game:

We play with each other continuously

Without worries and without shame

And often it gets hopelessly messy,

You are the queen and I am just lame.

And, like a memory of grass and storms,

Our passion is still unimpeded,

I feel we could eternalize worms

Even if death cannot be defeated

And emprisoned in these blue eyes of yours.

I thought I was a pawn

An expendable piece

Destined only to move forward, never look back

My only option sneak attacks from the side

Hoping for the slim chance of

Becoming a queen

But I was wrong

I thought I was a king

Locked up under guard in my castle

Movement restricted to single, shuffling steps

My only purpose staying alive,

My only prerogative safety

But I was wrong

I thought I was a knight

Leaping over people's heads

In these lopsided, chaotic jumps

Never to be properly understood

Just a distraction, a diversion

While the important people do the work

But I was wrong

I thought I was a bishop

Moving with pretend purpose

Limited to this one colour,

No permission granted to explore the other side

I must attack, again and again, from my

Righteous holier-than-thou

But I was wrong

I thought I was a rook

A stately piece, reliable, works best in pairs

With the power to stride as far as I choose

If the game gets that far,

If the walls that confine my starting space

Ever manage to shift

But I was wrong

I might just be a queen

"I see!" he told me that night. "I see that you certainly don't know where you are. You think that simple unfortunate fame you achieved is the greatest of successes, but the truth is, like a false wooden king on a grey chess board, you're trapped, and only allowed to move your feet to a step, but no further, and on each and every step around, you should see a sword that pops a dark smoke out, waiting for you to make that one step, so that it can behead you cleanly. While those of whom you left behind, the enlightened bishops and the broken knights, even the dying soldiers, march forward... forward towards a greater success, without the sword of pain and regret put on their way, you’ll remain in that deep darkness forever, struggling to make that single step!"

I remember laughing at the words of that old man, and now, sitting inside the shade I built from stripped clothes, staring at the empty street without looking, and so depressed even to commit suicide, I started laughing, and didn’t stop till the laugh turned to tears.

“Hail to king me!” I shouted to the moaning wind and dropped backwards… backwards to the even deep darkness.

Hospitals are a place of death,

pawns for the sacrifice.

Doctors are drug dealers,

knights jumping pieces.

Minimum wage job won’t pay the bills,

bishop deployed.

Buy the next big toy,

keep up with the Joneses,

rook takes bishop.

Your life for an education,

paid off by retirement,

Queen exposed.

Drowning in debt,

paste a smile on your face.

Checkmate.

Don’t worry,

there’s a pill for that.

King down.

hopscotch at the tabletop tribunal

slap the stopwatch

set off the seismometer

shockwaves sweep squares like a São Paulo death squad

rubbing rookies off the road

behold

a birds-eye view of bereavement on a board

unwelcome lines flicker in paused time

like a gobbled VHS

the stage is set

plucking pages of this murder magazine with each sideways step

irate pawns at the gate

revved up on revenge

for their tapped out, toppled teammates

cubes shift & crack

damn

will anyone escape like Kazan?

the lives of many directed by a couple of hands

castles creep like crabs

it’s all in the game

it’s all in the game

you are not what you say you are

you are not

you

giddy up, take an L

friction in a fortress

a mass grave of fallen soldiers

exposed

slapped in the face by the smell of eliminated stones

dawn rises

down to the last few pieces

plugged in

making Matrix moves

petrified

pole vaulting on this zebra crossing

on the route to ...

“what the hell

might as well

where is my mind

when is my time?”

I only know a little bit about Chess. I only know a little about life, and I’ve been playing that for quite a while. Here’s what I do know. We’re all trying to make our way across the board in a world of power, sex, careers, and politics. In this game of thrones, it’s everyone for themselves. The pieces are abstract. So are our relationships and finances. As a child, games were just something fun. You played them to pass the time. As you grew up, you learned playing is more serious now. Oh yes. Now, we’re hoping we survive on this chessboard of life. Alas, there is no guarantee for that. Similar to a chess club in school, us adults form social clubs. We include those who agree with us. We shun those who don’t. It shouldn’t be this way but that is just how it goes, dear reader.

The queen guides along the chess board.

She protects her kingdom from damage

While the king hides,

Never moving unless he is in check.

The queen runs the kingdom,

Protecting her husband even when he

Is a coward.

Because she is just a figurehead.

Even though she does all the work,

The king still has the real power.

And one day,

The queen is captured

By the opposing queen.

And call it Stockholm syndrome

But the other side is

So much more appetizing

Than the other side of the board.

So imagine his majesty’s surprise

When his own queen

Puts him in checkmate.

She refused to be pushed

To the side of the board any longer.

Now the queens have the power.

And with no king,

Checkmate is impossible.

Just another pawn in the game of chess.

All your mates beside you, fighting for something they don’t believe in.

And one by one they start to disappear.

The one whom you called your Queen, her heart has been captured by another.

Your Knight in shining armor is not there when you needed them the most.

Your Bishop that always has your back should’ve been right behind you... but when you turn around he’s gone. You’re just a pawn on this checkered board, looking for a future that was nevermore.

before you know it you are captured.

Taken away to the enemy’s sideline, waiting as time passes by,

for a checkmate.

Pawn to King Four. The price of admittance.

And I earn a knight that shadows my very position.

Shall it be a war of attrition?

Or can a bishop angle in and hold ebony at bay, on restriction?

Long enough for my ivory tusks to sally up and slay.

A castle carried out then condemns this.

As their Rook & King Jet

In a Two part Two piece play.

That nullify’s a previous alabaster parlay.

Now I can dance around the question

"Is it black or white?" all day.

Until one can’t remember anything before?

All the grey I’m stepping in per say.

It’s like pulling teeth getting anything off the back line of the good guise.

A ransom does hand some a cheeky check? Checkmate guys.