The board was set,
pieces perfectly aligned,
strategy falling into place,
for tournament time.

Every piece a part to play,
the moves would calm advance,
a slide across the checkered board,
a choreographed dance.

Predictable, inevitable
events would occur
Navigated rule by rule,
by hour, by day, by year.

And the matches would be that way,
calm and steady, gentle and slow –
except the player didn’t know
how this was to go.

Like a scattergun of popping candy
just exploded in the room,
and “Born Slippy” is cranked up on loop
as you focus on your moves.

Like the disco ball is dazzling
in LEDs on LSD,
like the head is channelling
an overload of DMT.

The games go on in spite of this
turn by rigid structured turn,
trying to zone out from chaos,
while normality does “crash and burn”.

While every supposed constant,
and every pillar falls apart,
just focusing on that king
like the game plan from the start.

And the resilience is impressive
the steadfast commitment to prevail,
in this psychedelic wonderland
the games play out – won’t fail.

Maybe the sign up sheet wasn’t clear
on the conditions of the game,
maybe you’d have chosen a match
by a different name.

But just think how dull
it all could have become,
all neat and tidy, stagnant, stale
a dreary, monotonous hum.

So I won’t apologise
for my popping candy thoughts
that’s flipped the chessboard
and brought anarchy of sorts

Because even though it’s crazy
and messes up your ISTJ brain,
I’m pretty sure you’d still
Choose it all again.  Checkmate.


Author: Lowrey E. Gray

Usually found with a cup of tea, a pet or a book, I am most content with life's humble gifts. A catch up with friends and home baked cakes is my idea of bliss. My heart beats where my family are close but my soul will always be in that place between sunset and sunrise. 💚

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