In Which I Bid Facebook A Not-So-Fond Farewell

This has been coming for a long time now.
One straw always looks innocent and light
Until one bows 'neath many. I'll allow
I bore more than I should have; I'll not fight
With anyone o'er what it finally took.
The ratio of benefit against
Annoyance long has caused me, yes, to look
Askance at Facebook; I for long have sensed
Someday I'd leave it for good reason. Schemes
With "features" that just mock my privacy
And open up abuses despots' dreams
Could barely outline, all add up to be
Not worth it to play chess or simply chat.
There's other places where I can do that.

SESTINA SATURDAY: A Duffer's Grasp Of Chess

Sonneteer's note: just to keep on challenging myself I've gotten the crack-brained idea to attempt a sestina a week in 2010 in addition to continuing with a sonnet a day. I make no promises and have made no firm resolution. We'll just have to see!

An early menace may come from a knight.
The canny player puts a well-placed pawn
Athwart, to drive him off, perhaps a priest
May close to him diagonals. The rook
Stays home most games 'till late and lets the queen
Rampage a bit in defense of the king.

Oh, let not stray your sights, though, from the king.
Yes, gladly you may stalk him with a knight
And subterfuge. Or bully with your queen;
He'll run like a white rabbit. But a pawn,
If kept alive in numbers, with a rook
Or two can make the kill without a priest.

I've one dear friend who ill-esteems the priest,
Dislikes the zigzags, mayhap (and his king
Gets caught betimes 'twixt scissor blades); the rook
He strives to bring out soon. Meanwhile his knight
Sneaks all about. I chase it with a pawn,
Distracted, till at last it rapes my queen.

When starting out I liked to use the queen
More as a bugaboo than threat. The priest
I'd set on outer files; I'd treat a pawn
As cannon-fodder, and castle my king
With haste unseemly, poorly use the knight
To try and seize the center; and the rook?

He'd sit there, fat and ready, my poor rook
To fall before the weakest siege. My queen
I'd tend to swap with his quite soon. His knight --
I've learned to fear his knight. Many a priest
Has fallen to his sneaky ways. My king,
Oft forced to move ere I would, like a pawn.

How best to start a game? To move a pawn
Right up into the center? Free a rook,
A partially cleared file for it? The king
One leaves alone of course; his queen
Close by his side will guard him, sure. The priest?
O fianchetto, take control! The knight?

He's in the way of castling. Knight and pawn
Go forth at first, right? Then the priest and rook
Can take command. No: lose the queen, then king.

In Which I Have Had To Keep My Wits About Me On My Way

Night driving is a challenge at its best,

When elements do merge, as Whitman said.

Less horrid than at sunset, when it's west

To which one has to drive into the red

And blue and grey, directly into glare.

But I was driving east; 'twas just delay

And indolence that forced me to beware

Of darkness, eighteen-wheelers, and the play

Of wind and snow and ice across the road.

At least no white-outs threatened, but snow plows

And unskilled winter drivers, these bestowed

An extra need for caution and for vows

To tarry not so long 'midst the delights

Of coffee, chess and wine, on future nights.

In Which Distance Becomes Even More Meaningless

Most of my friends don't live here in Cheyenne,
But I still may pass entire days with them.
The internet is chiefly why I can,
That and a cell phone (what I have's a gem!).
In Saratoga Erin, graciously
Engaged in conversation, geeking out
And, of course, playing games with silly me
On Facebook. We are even on our bout
As these scant lines emerge, but we're mid-game
On number three, is all. How wonderful
That she has this free time, and she will spend
So much with me, in telepresence. Pull
Me from my dreary day? Well, I'll say yes!
And give all thanks that I've found Facebook chess!

In Which I Prepare For A New Adventure!

It's Friday in my strange, shift-working world,
And nearly time for me to call it quits.
I stretch out with a smile, my limbs uncurled,
Preparing to go north to match my wits
With my friend Jana on a real chessboard
Instead of one on Facebook, and to quaff
Some margaritas. I'll emerge restored,
I think, from Chugwater (now don't you scoff;
It may be podunk to the untrained eye
But it is all about who lives there, no?)
I'm sure that soon the time will simply fly
Too swiftly and 'twill be time to come home.
Oh -- wish me luck, would you? She's kicked my ass
Of late. I'm tired of losing; e'en with class.

In Which I Thank My Medicine Men

It takes strange tools to patch a torn-up heart,
Takes songs and tales and poetry and play.
Comes time for me to thank those who, in part
Have made or done the things which, I may say,
Have proven the best medicine for me.
Phil Rossi wrote a song that e'en before
The hardest blow came down did help me see
A light at tunnel's end. And there is more:
For Jeremy Shipp's novel did a lot,
As did a poem by Gregory Wright
He wrote just for me, to tell me I'm not
Alone, not even in the darkest night.
Thanks too, to my White Rabbit and John Ladd:
Chess therapy is good, too, when I'm sad.

In Which A Friend Steps Up Into A New Role

John Ladd, I think I'm making a great trade

A column or two for your magazine

(I hope that what I've done do make the grade)

On our poetic, internet-ic scene,

For counseling on my misdeeds in chess!

As coaches go you're patient, funny and

You give me hope that I might blunder less

In future games! Your wish is my command

On future essays. Any you may want,

On any subject for Paradise Tossed,

Is yours! Few are the bloggers who may flaunt

A captive sonneteer so to be bossed!

My gratitude, dear John, for all your aid.

As well for all the practice games we've played!

In Which I Discover That Chess Is Good Medicine

I took a duck right to the face today

At two hundred fifty knots, as the meme goes.

My throat's new lump just will not go away,

My heart feels like it's taken thirty blows

From someone's mallet. But a game of chess

Long distance, over slow and thoughtful time

Has proved a worthy cure for my distress,

Reminding me I've partners yet in crime,

E'en though my dear Mac Tonnies cannot be

Among their number anymore. Each move

Captures my thoughts, attention, makes me see

More possibilities and does much to improve

My frame of mind, to have it well-engaged.

Thanks to my friend for this small war we've waged.