Chess mates, drawn to checkmate
when white plays black, as always
in a game again where winners
take it all and pawns
are sacrificed for kings.
The white queen rooks,
seduces bishops
and with eyes that are to mate
a toppled king.
There is a timeless wind
a staleness carved
with cigarettes, when afterwards
a homeless man searches cobblestones
for fallen pawns.
Time again for Magpie Tales, and this image contains so many magnificent tales. So much tension. It was a joy to write to it.
That little girl is fricking adorable. I LOVE her expression. She looks like she’s mind-controlling that dude. Actually, she reminds me of Jane from the Twilight movies. Do you see it?
Your poem is the perfect complement to the photograph.
This is my favorite part … the segue:
“There is a timeless wind
a staleness carved”
But my ears want it to say “cigars” instead of “cigarettes.” And, they also want a hyphen in “after-wards” to draw out the hard /r/ sound and to switch up the stress, you know.
Ah.. yes, the cigars would be a nice touch… almost Cuban too.. I agree the girl’s expression is great… The mindcontrol that’s very cool.
Oh, I forgot to mention how clever that hidden “stalemate” was.
You’ve taken chess to a whole new (metaphoric) level. That game has always confounded me.
I think chess is a game and other games could make great metaphors.
Chess is always a great metaphor in poetry and life. Love that last stanza Bjorn. We just about titled our poems the same. :-))
Running off to read Carrie…
The closing lines break my heart 😦 I dislike to play chess, because it feels too real.
So true – sweet and poignant, Bjorn, which I suspect you are too. 😉
I expected it to say the white queen rocks, and then it didn’t. And I had to think over what rook would mean there. By hook or by crook, she’s been rooked, but I don’t think that’s what you mean. 😉
I used rook as it means one of the chess pieces, but as a verb in the meaning to cheat or swindle… 🙂 so it’s a little play with the words as well.
Yes, it made me pause and ponder. Not a bad thing at all. I like your inventive use of language. It’s one of the main reasons I like to stop by. XOXO
nice!
The pic proves it all. There are good chess players even on the street. Perhaps they have all the time in the world to indulge in it!
Hank
last lines are just killing
I don’t completely understand chess, but your metaphors are always great, Bjorn. The father seems to be coaching the boy. Charming. 🙂 — Suzanne
I remember the first outdoor chess match I watched while standing on a sidewalk in Belgium ~ life size pieces moved on a huge chalk drawn board. Love your poem.
Really enjoyed your take on the prompt…especially the “staleness carved with cigarettes.” Nice.
Coming back after a long absence and reading your beautiful words is a little bit like coming home after a hard day at work. Love this piece, as always!
like how you used chess terms to pack meaning into your poem
Searching for falling pawns! I think we all keep our eyes open for such things, Bjorn! Very cryptic, yet direct!
Some glorious lines in this piece: “winners
take it all and pawns are sacrificed for kings” – that pretty much sums up the way of the world. Love the expression on the faces of the little ones learning that hard lesson.