Michael Cook wrote:
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
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
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