My Road To Chess, by Johan Du Plessis

Foolish was my days of young

Steaming like a runaway train

With mounting tension- highly strung

With destructive speed only towards pain

Stopping for nothing and for none

If only I new there will be no gain

Tumbling down the cliffs I came

O how I wished I could fly

Crushing into waters with no name

Drinking the pain that would not pass me by

Tragedy followed all the same

Breaking my wings so there I would lie

Completely helpless unable to weep

Searching as answers ran from me

Eventually losing the will to sleep

Strong, fast, how could this be?

O how high this mountain, how steep!

To where this new path I would have to see

Finding a doorway, it leads to the net

This I could follow without my two feet

Speaking to many the stage was now set

Happy and willing new friends to meet

A white knight there was, with horse I bet

Followed him down a black and white street

Friendly and honorable his family was

Living in house with 64 rooms

Each member his own rules he has

The bishop is present with bride and the groom

Many soldiers to keep them in line

In towers they hide from their doom

For the love of chess

The real ART of WAR

Johan Duplessis

East

I saw the shadow of the monument
Langa payed its price
engraved on its walls
the names.

After many years
I found the place
and bowed my head
and felt.

In the East
they took to the streets
and were gunned
under a Western sky.

Rubber turned into lead
a lieutenant hot collared
gave the signal...

That was then
last night, not far
a stomach was stabbed
and two brothers bled.

The East is still the East.
Tires still burn
hands still yearn
in scarred turns
a present of peace.

I console in the hope
in the veritable fact
in the dream
that we are safe
in 64 squares.

From Nimzo with Love

Still the storm
all be warned
Nimzo is in town.

a King on prix

After the third pawn went
a wise Bishop mentioned
"now is the time to book
an appointment with the
therapist."

My whole camp was happy.
For days, the army was being flung
into suicide missions
with vague plans
no resolutions, and
tired of dying...

...finally, my pieces spoke.

The treasure chest downstairs
was held at gunpoint, and tow
horseman were shot down.
From my window, comrades
looked on in disbelief.

Trauma helds its own
in the residues of the board
and refused to show its face,
til its grimmace bore life
in the indecision of its master.

In the morning my fingers
were shaking, shivering without prompt,
a wise Bishop said,
"Time to face the defence, not the attack"

So, I was sentenced to silence.
And after castling,
met the therapist on g1.
Here behind my fortress of pawns
I closed my eyes, and remembered
the dusk of that day, when the world
was taken in front of my eyes,
when dawn was distant
dwarfed by the shadow
of a disappearing sun.

When I woke,
no pawns guarded my side.
A king on prix.

Doctor

Doctor,
beleaguered pieces through tears
grin like the midnight sun.

Distance seem shorter
the horses have stopped
their bitterness,
and remember Flamenco.

Looked for a tree
to sleep under
and remember,
a field of perfumes
an apple by the river
a meeting, I chaired,
like a Che in revolution.

The vines under an oak tree
many sips of conversation
too much space
so little time.

Departed.
Frost crept its icy fingers
into the garden,
sharp, voiceless.

Beleaguered pieces through tears
grin like the midnight sun,
and closed eyed, yearn birth again.
In your arms.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZJ-QYC2ggE

lately

my pieces seem distant
squares stand vacant
i am no longer किंग.

endless thoughts stream
but moves seem unshakable
in their familiar पैटर्न

where has it गोने.
where have you गोने
a board without its queen.

my rooks stare into distance
like lonely stones
monoliths guarding my मंद.

bishops keep within these walls
knights have gone in hiding
even my pawns have lost their lustre.

lately, winter has incubated joy
and stored it far away,
summer's dreams haunt by day.

zugzwang after thought

His heart cracked on the h-file
broken boundaries, injured pawns.

The smoke from the attack
cloaked the empress's stare
and alone,
on the ridge bordering insanity and the Styx.

His heart cracked.

Medusa

She came on a tray of snakes
a hair cut gone pear shaped,

and gazed into my eyes.
I froze into stone
and unmoved her snakes
slithered over my body.

A nightmare that lived
into day,
Medusa.

You swayed into the horizon
on a carriages of gold and blood
and stole my breath away,

forever.
We played the game
and I was wrong,
set up a strong centre,
and you clipped me on the wing,
and bewildered my king
tempted him along ranks and files,
and then killed him
on e4,
for all the world to see.

32 soldiers stood silenced
as you gagged him from
g7 out in to the open
taunted like a animal
and upside down
sent a bishop to give
final words,
while your knights sunk
deep their swords into his torso.

Medusa, you hardened me,
and I swore revenge.
I sat down with Hercules
and for days and nights
I taught him the Sicilian Defence.

I prayed he would stop you.
He fell, as I did, Medusa.

The venom of your locks
the glint in your eye
like molten steel
forced my love out of me.
And every combination of fear
swept through the palace.

It was, what is was, Medusa.
On the plateau's edge,
the day you were captured,
brisk at dawn on a world's view,
you resigned,

I caught your tear.
Felt its glistening moisture,
Before it became a diamond.
Medusa, like a storm you entered
my kingdom,
like a waterfall of pebbles
you left.

At peace,
in pieces we remain.
Medusa.