Correspondence ‘freestyle’ chess battle

I set up the pieces and then offer you the white,

It’s only fair as I'm starting this fight

You gladly accept and prepare your first blunder

Within a few moves, it’s your skin I'm getting under. 

E4, C5 and you never saw it coming

Nf3, d3 and you consider running

"What line is this, I've never seen it before'?

'Its the one that leaves your king laying on the floor." 

While my etiquette leaves much to be desired,

Your clumsy moves leave me feeling inspired.

I fienchetto my bishop, you occupy center squares.

Soon I'll have you hanging by the short and curly hairs.

The middle game comes and the middle game passes,

You mutter about a chess school and how you skipped your classes

I make another move, and then leave the board and you to wonder

A piece unprotected? Did Western_burn make a blunder?

Leaving a piece en prise, your heart beats a little quicker

You gladly accept and your skull grows thicker

Its now mate in seven, I proudly declare

'You should stick to checkers 'cause I've got the bishop pair.'

Is this what happens when chess meets testosterone?

This is an emergency, so pass me the phone...

I’m calling the girl police for an emergency intervention.

Western Burn, be prepared for some knowledge retention.   

We see that you’re angry; but you need to learn to rein it in…

Your precarious masculinity isn’t contingent upon the games that you win.

So, grab yourself some Zoloft or an equivalent SSRI,

You’ll always be a winner, as long as you try.

You’ll always be a winner, as long as you try. "

That's a hilarious line!

marginallyclevergirl, this is a forum for chess -- not psychological evaluations

So sit down and push a pawn, or speak your salutations.

I know you don’t play chess; you came here to get harassed by males,

Who will mentally undress you, while revealing how your last move fails.

 As a feminist, you’ve had little exposure to testosterone,

Nor a proper education, and you’re too damn spiteful to be boned.

Men are crazy according to you, so force feed them pills

Are you menopausing, Margie? Or did I give you the chills? 

So gather your estrogen and pack your bags,

I’ll delay castling cause your development lags.

Next time we meet, I hope it’s over 64 squares,

And at your pair of bishops I’ll direct my Stares

Estrogen is surprisingly difficult to collect.

But I know that you mean no disrespect.

Your anger comes from lack of meaningful interaction.

So, you play chess all day to achieve satisfaction.

And “menopausing”, my friend, is not a verb…

It isn’t your enthusiasm that you must learn to curb.

Rather, it’s your crudeness and your general attitude,

because no girl would spend time with a boy that rude.

Perhaps you are correct; I don’t play Chess.

I’m here for the rhyming; I’m willing to confess. 

And if you managed your impression a little more effectively,

I wouldn’t have to expose your psychoses for everyone to see.

What the issue Phil, are parts of you feeling blue?

If it’s any consolation, I would too, if I were you.

And if it makes you feel better to denigrate me,

It is only because you know you’ll never date me.

As for my bishops, you will have no opportunity to stare.

And what a shame; they are such a lovely pair.

Like in a competitive industry, your margins are ever-slimming,

A clever girl in denial of a game that I’d be winning.

You joined the site to lurk my every posted word,

And in that last post, implied that I’m the nerd.

Your attacks are personal – this is supposed to be about chess

Stick to cooking and cleaning – the things you do best.

I’ve seen your pair, and as spectacular as they may be,

No one will buy the cow, when you give away the milk for free.

Your rhymes are as original as a photocopy.

You must be getting tired- you’re getting sloppy.

Your desperation is apparent with every line.

Insulting my feminist sensibilities is a glaring sign,

that your poetic resources are virtually depleted.

Perhaps its time that you admit you’ve been defeated?

And, I admire your creative reference to a cow.

These clever antagonists,

An interesting two,

The rhyming I like,

But the tension won't do.

The female has,

Linguistic skill,

But the chauvinist lets loose,

An attack that would kill.

Perhaps it is possible,

They are the perfect pair?

A love/hate relationship,

With poetry to share.

Imagine them aging,

Conversing in rhyme,

Her elegant responses,

To his barbs drenched with slime.

Maybe at least,

They could agree to a draw?

Then a different member,

Could take the floor.

Western Burn, did you burnout?

No venom left to spit and spout?

I suppose we’ve annoyed this online community enough.

And now it’s two against one, so you’re not so tough.

Quixotical thinks we might be the perfect pair.

And that dominating this forum isn’t fair.

I apologize for latter, but with the former I disagree.

Western Burn is clearly not the boy for me.

He may play chess, but he has no game.

So my heart, he will never claim.

So sorry, I didn't realize that you had the opposition,

My king would move aside, but you don't understand the position.

Mrs. Marginally Clever, you've got me all wrong.

like a King-side pawn storm, you make me castle long,

But that doesn't mean that I want to earn your heart,

I'm far more interested in coveting another part.

And that, my dear is your mind

which like a cheap wine,

Has deteriorated with age,

And now all you sense is rage.

I'm not angry, I'm just playing.

Your freestyle is weak, or so you're displaying.

I've lyricaly trapped you in a state of zugzwang,

Any move you make will ensure further pain.

And last but not least, you're no Suzie Polgar

But I'd still buy you a drink if I saw you at the bar.

Sorry for my interruption the other day,

I was under the influence - if you get what I say.

Now that apologies are out of the way,

I hope you don't mind if I jump in and play?

The name of the game is insults I see,

The opponent I'll choose to be gentlemanly,

Is the one of you two who stands up to pee,

(Providing of course, he isn't scared off by me)

With lewd sexual comments you are a bit of a pest,

Even though you meant it only in jest,

In a war fought with words, I will come out best,

Because you'll have nothing to say with no woman in the contest.

If you play against me you will be dead near the start,

I could give you rook odds then rip you apart,

I could give you ten minutes and myself take just two,

Then cook up a meal called Western burn stew.

I could win tied up and lying on my back,

While constantly getting kicked in the sack,

I would beat you and make you look like a hack,

Now what have you got to say about that??

Auto Reply:Yes

 in all honesty, one of the cooler threads I've read lately

Honestly, I’m glad to have another member prepared to battle in rhyme.

As it looks like Marginally Clever fell off the saddle, conquered line by line.

The gender bashing was fun, but the best is yet to come;

For my dragon breaths fire, and your king’s outta room to run.

 I wish more members would join in on this fight,

But they are busy playing chess late into the night.

Or perhaps they are suffering from certain stage fright,

 And are full of fear, knowing my bark comes with bite.

But then here stands Quixotical with a challenging proposition.

With chess book in hand, promising to beat me into submission.

From the land of New Zealand, where there’s less people then sheep,

My tactics would give you nightmares; are you prepared to lose sleep? 

In due time, you’ll find that your confidence has dwindled,

“Western must have used a computer in that last game he swindled.”

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, for our match is still in the future;

And when its all over, you'll go to the E.R. to repair your ass with a suture.

I have not been conquered, and certainly not by you.

You’re not only insulting women, but New Zealanders too?

Why must you always resort to the lowest denominator?

Nobody will play with you if you act like a hater. 

You don’t really hate us; deep down you hate your self.  

I’d advise you to take those feelings and put them on the shelf.

Western Burn, it’s time to take a good look in the mirror.

And if you look long enough the problems will appear.

Granted, by most standards you’re objectively not “cute”.

But, if you start to like yourself, your friends will follow suit.

And beauty standards, as we know are socially constructed.

Your true beauty lies beneath, where is usually obstructed,

by your hateful, but thinly veiled façade.

Don’t worry Mr. Burn; I see your charade. 

We all, at one point or another get a little cranky.

But instead of lashing out, reach for your hanky.

You can put your face up on my chest, and I’ll stroke your ugly head.

Sometimes instead of hurting others, have you yourself a cry instead.

oxo (not the bouillon )

My marginal friend, you can’t see the forest for the trees.

This isn’t about hate; it’s about chess and lyrical abilities.

You naughty tease. At the sight of me you’d twitch like you had fleas.

I make sacs with ease, mate whenever I please,

I’ll split you in two, just like logs from pine trees.

So spread the word like you would a sexual disease.

(chorus)

I make chess look too easy,

Your rhymes are all cheesy

You’d make a turtlekneck look sleazy,

And you probably carry the VD’s-y

Honestly, Clever, you don’t give me much to go on,

A self-proclaimed psychologist who speaks in song.

You’re always right, even when you’re wrong

And here you are not playing chess on chess dot com.

(Repeat chorus)

 I don’t care if that didn’t completely rhyme, I got my point across

Chess mimics real life inasmuch as your game is completely lost.

Horse moves in an ‘L’ shape. Move the king two spaces to castle,

I’d love to teach you more but you’re not worth the hassle.