##Starting from today, we will be holding a Go Poetry contest!
- The 3 winning entries will get small surprise prizes!
- The contest ends on October 31st 2014!
##How do you participate?
- That’s very easy to answer! Just write a piece of [Poetry][1] about GO/Baduk/Weiqi and post it in this topic! Be creative!
- Every participant is limited to 1 entry. (Please don’t cheat!)
- Comments and Spam will be deleted from this thread. If you want to comment or discuss the pieces of poetry, please open up a new thread.
- The jury will be you, the players! You vote for a piece of poetry by clicking the Heart Icon under the post!
[1]: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poetry
I scratch my head and frown at the board.
I sniff air through my nostrils like a bull.
I place a stone next to the white invader
and the print of my finger glistens wetly.
“That’s why they make the weaker player
play black in handicap games,”
someone once joked. “So you can see them sweat.”
My opponent, who has been running his fingers
through the stones in his bowl, making them
clack, immediately places another stone next to mine.
“That was,” he says slowly, “Not correct.”
I clench my teeth and wonder
how much the sudden flush to my neck and ears shows.
I was given nine stones, a nine-stone head start.
Nine stones scattered over a whole board
as if I owned it all already.
Nine stones, marking each of the star points
a sign that your opponent can give you
everything
because you know how to keep nothing.
I look at the now-cut-off cluster of black stones -
a broken dragon, a clump of bones and flesh
tangled and ugly
and now dead, dead, dead -
and try to judge whether I’m so behind
that the polite thing would be to resign.
But I can’t tell.
So, I decide
to struggle.
higher ranking plays white
why do u always play black?
is that how u “win” game?
with dirty mind
he has chased u all the time
you are the meanest player I ever met.
sorry. a little “joke”
Endless peace
and frothless rage,
Play out
on this wooden stage.
Connections created,
silent and seen;
The actors unmoving,
yet shine a soft gleam.
The toils will come,
The battles enlarged;
Links will be broken,
Others mischarged.
And over at last,
Silence will reign;
A small piece of art,
It was not in vain.
Suddenly the game went south
My stones are eaten by tiger’s mouth
But comeback is fated, I know,
because your reading is so slow.
You play so close to thickness,
it has to be some sickness.
Well, I shouldn’t be nagging,
As I’m really sandbagging.
Twice i have tried and failed to find words
For the feelings i have for this murder of nerds
Nerds whos feelings and thoughts are the same
When they come to this site for more than the game
I came to this place wanting someone to fight
Someone to challenge and battle that night
Instead i found humor and help in the chat
All made for us by anoek and mat.
So thank you, developers, for taking your time
For making this place without earning a dime
And Thanks to the mods for not banning me yet
Sometimes you do want to ban me, i bet.
Now i think ive wasted enough of my time
Struggling with wording, phrasing and rhyme
Twice now ive boarded the wrong subway back
Perhaps now ill finaly find the right fucking track
All the stones that lead me there are winding.
It’s just a plight, I can’t get there! It’s blinding.
I really wish, that I could get, the fuck away from you…
But I don’t know how
I said maybe
This next stone will save me…
But after all
You’ve formed a ladder wall.
Today was supposed to be my day,
But I’ll never get away from you
By now I should’ve somehow
Realized what I’m not to do
I don’t even know-oh-oh
why I keep placing stones down.
I really hate you.
All the stones that I place down, destined for dying.
It’s just a plight, I can’t get there! I’m crying.
I really wish that I could just… get away from you…
But I don’t know how…
I said maybe,
This next stone will save me…
But afterall…
You’ve formed a ladder wall.
I said maybe
This’ll be the stone that saves me.
This’ll be the stone that saves me…
Yose, time to empty your head
Go on my pal and play ahead
Cleverest contraptions meet an end :
If you are too thick
Your move is a bit weak
But don’t be silly or you’re dead.
(limericks have a rhythm, please make sure to read it with the good one before not liking)
SPRING
Player: I place this stone, it is the day I choose. It is not Tengen. This stone is my day, the life that is only set in the waiting. You do hear It’s convex wobble. And soon I’ll hear that cold bowl of shadows, wanting life too quickly.
Ghost: Well, so you’ve had all Goban, with choice of stone to play. The one stone you are now watching for, is tomorrows, without squabble or whack, I’d say. The moment is rightful, also it is yours, though’ I’m here to Surround The Year, reading’ ahead of blurs.
Summer
Player: It’s warm within these corners. I’m placed there without fear. No Moyo has been gathered, my eyes are reaching clear.
Ghost: Those shadows that you vision, while not noticing a plan, has led you to Joseki, would you like to use my fan?
Fall
Player: It all seems so confusing’ all this, over here and over there. The edge seems just for finding. Your winds will push me there?
Ghost: I must admit' You're cleaver, I understand edge, column and row. But listen' my bowl rattles, welcome to my Ko.
Winter
Player: This year is almost over. Our own is not so clear, So I will move at Tengen. You see, my Moyo appear?
Ghost: All is all and counted, when blood flowed into the grid. All these stones did gather or died and then be rid. Will be no game that's finished, nor Gobans full thus finer When your Surrounding The Year Alone you always finish re-signer.
Player:gg
The next time that someone asks me what I’m doing, hunched over a plain wooden board, decorated here and there with lines and points and scattered stones
I’ll tell them that I’m dealing with problems of life and death. And I will be.
I encircle, feint, fend off the shadows from the disused corners of my mind.
Some people say that you can tell who a person is by how they play.
I agree.
I once had a friend who was daring, aggressive, impulsive in his play;
Never a missed invasion, never a held-back play,
So little guile.
His lack of skill (or mine) at the time isn’t relevant, here,
Not now, or ever.
Another friend’s shapes were always thick and strong.
“Solid as concrete, and just as heavy,” I’d tease her,
But her territorial control never missed a beat.
After he left me I cried for hours, then
On and off for days.
He’d only ever been a friend,
But a rather close one. A confidant.
Sipping a sweet ginger tea, I broke down at the board with her,
Then crushed her, after having given her
Four stones
On the 13 by 13.
A month later, I forgot her birthday.
Still I play,
Obsessively
Obsessively seeking the truth behind things.
Not always, not often is this in go,
But when it is
I try to make sense of the present
By digging through the game of my far-flung past.
Still I honor the long-deposed kings and nobility of a war-torn country
My blood
Who I am not sure I accept.
**