Poem : Monkey’s Chess

It is his game

He and his cohorts

He and his pawns

It is a pure monkey chess

Not the one we play crisp and cross

Not the one we play with snake and ladder

Not the one we play with bows and arrows

Not the one we play with black and white

In the shades of grey and grey hounds

There exist a primordial hunter and a traveler

They took the game to the east

And traveled to the land of Ottoman

And lived by the sides of a cedar lattice

They could share their eyes with the stars

And they could be the beacon for the centuries to come and go

Years of molten lava and steel, they sunk the chess board

Monkeys persisted, yet the game went on to the twilight of the times

When you play a chord, music may come and go

A monkey’s chess and its surrogate soldiers

A monkey’s chess and its surreal bishops

A monkey’s chess and its snooping dragons

A monkey’s chess and its silver ministries

A monkey’s chess and its golden temples

Lifeless game persisted, yet life won and the game is lost

Good, bad and the glad ones, they survived this game of the gardens

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.