Love has never dared to defy me
on the bored chess shores .
There's nothing but emptiness
in the eyes of a children
who hasn't learn to play
always just a pawn
lost in a grotesque reason ...
Queen subjected
to the jester's volptuousness
prince eaten by blood flies
dancing on the vanity fire gallows...
Crowd gambling with illusions
that pretend to be lives ...
The pieces have taken their place
ready for a daily holocaust flight ,
the clock began to beat its tempo of eternity...
Your excellence ,please turn off
these colors in my brain !
I am Bobby the fisherman !
Conqueror of gods and devils,
vodka drinkers and jehovah's devotees,
and I killed this cackling rabbi in my woods !
Tremble sinners who think they are players !
organic destinies disguised as parody and appear !
Satan is an angel maker...
In this equivocal fashion that faces me
I recognize the fool who is none other than myself...
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 4th, 2024 10:32
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
Offline)
Comments4
"Tremble sinners who think they are players !". The paradoxical nature of Bobby Fischer.
Powerful imagery in your poem!
He ended his life playing against himself !
Bobby had his troubles and became a bit paranoid in the end. I feel rooked all the time and like a pawn much of the time but worst of all I hate when I'm check mated. Oh yes then I know the king is dead.
Complexity of the human condition through the prism of a troubled genius !
I read this last nifgr and never commeted. So, I read it again tonight. I clicked on this poem basically for the title. Bobby Fischer always did intrigue me. Can you imagine your mind playing itself over and over, all the time? Yes, Bobby Fischer was a legend yet, a sad soul.
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