STOCKFISH
my pieces do not flow
they are all
nut
and bolt
whilst the Stockfish pieces
swarm to devour
attack like piranhas
strip my defence down
to bare bones
there’s blood
in the water though you cannot
see it
Oh, that one day my
chess brain might
be Achilles and his Myrmidons
so brutally fleet
and adept
at butchering
slaughter without mercy
and then we shall find
out exactly what you
are made of
my artificially intelligent friend
UNBOXED
chess:
so many games played
never
a masterpiece
moves missed (many,
many)
victory
falling by the wayside
and so
I do not succumb to
the joy of a world
of sheer
possibility
where every thought
of genius
lies the far side of a
blunder simply
begging to be
blunders of the kind
you can no way redeem
but here I am
sweating my way on
supposed improvement
trajectory
puzzle after puzzle:
mate in five, four,
three, two
find the best move
now plodding through
with each opportunity grasped
tiny chess revelation
this box-like wonder of a
a perfectly square game
all
blocking, line and
angle
divulging the logos
of its beauty,
glimpse of mystical infinity
unpackages the light
takes
me heart and soul
poems 2 die for