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Chess Limericks

  • #1

    Chess Limericks


    There once was a Glaswegian master

    Whose endgames were always disaster,

    So he sacced a rook

    To get out of book

    And lost in no time to a patzer.


    There once was a chessplayer from Greenock

    Who found that when he played his knees knocked;

    The whole board would quiver,

    So great were his shivers,

    And he was penalised with time docked.


    There once was a master from Cadiz

    Who thought he was a match for Deep Fritz;

    The comp was so good

    He vowed that he should

    Just play drunks for beer money at blitz.


    There once was a player who castled

    Straight into a furious assault.

    Pins, windmills and sacs

    Made up the attacks,

    But met with calm and his skill dazzled.


    There is just one line in the Dragon

    Which has all my defences undone:

    Yugoslav attack

    Has me on the rack,

    Makes me play other sicilians.


    There once was a little chess cafe

    Where locals would invite you to play.

    I think it's still there,

    In Amsterdam fair,

    The wonderful Gambit Chess Cafe.


    There is an instructive queen sac mate,

    Where black's king gets smothered at h8:

    You play double check,

    He goes “What the heck?”

    As the queen drops in, but it's too late.


    There once was a novice from Parkhead

    Who let me play what I dream in bed:

    With pawns on g4

    And f3, no chore

    Is it to imagine what I played.

  • #2

    No great literary masterpieces any of them, just had the notion today and came up with them on my breaks at work, feel free to ridicule or add your own.  Any idiot can write limericks, although I confess I have disobeyed the cardinal rule which is that they should either be filthy or funny or both.

  • #3

    There once was a chess player who sucked, and sucked, and sucked, I mean really  sucked!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  • #4

    Hmm.  9 syllables, 9 syllables, 5 syllables, 5 syllables, 9 syllables - make lines 1,2 and 5 rhyme together and lines 3 and 4 rhyme together.  A little bit more structured next time woodshover, but...er....good first effort.

  • #5

    I thought it was pure genius.

  • #6

    There once was a top chess grandmaster

    Who started to play ever faster,

    Till one day he took

    Two pawns and a rook

    In one move; his foe went “You bastar…”

  • #7

    I guess nobody on here has the imagination to write limericks.

  • #8

    I have mainly switched to a poetry website now but one of the limericks I came up with there was chess so thought I would post it with these old ones.  Frighteningly, apart from the limericks, I have written 34 other chess poems.  Time to change subject....

  • #9


  • #10

    Earlier this year I was on a roll with creating limericks for chess openings. I wrote down only the following two, unfortunately. I also had one for the Saragossa, but I didn't write it down and eventually forgot it. 



    There was a young man in a robe,

    Who looked far too long at a strobe,

    His e-pawn he pawed,

    But his vision was flawed,

    He ended up playing The Grob.



    There once was a chessplaying cult,

    Their guru a sadistic adult,

    Who made them all lose,

    By making them choose,

    To attack with the lousy Gedult.


  • #11


  • #12

    I think its impressive that Conflag and Here picked up a conversation they started 4 years ago.

  • #13

    Its a mega-bump.

  • #14

    This is excellence at its very best! I have to get some rest!

  • #15

    These are all my limericks from the various poetry threads assembled in one place:


    There once was a wily tactician,

    Who got into a winning position.

    But then he said "Sh_te,

    I've blundered a knight!

    I think I need extra tuition."


    A grandmaster wrinkled and frail

    Was playing a well-endowed female.

    Whilst sneaking a look

    He blundered his rook

    His features turned horribly pale.


    A chess player looking so smug

    Turned up at the board with a mug.

    The contents within

    Smelt rather like gin

    And shortly the floor got a hug.


    The youngster he was quite a sight

    And gave his opponent a fright

    But try as he might

    He just couldn't quite

    Give mate with his king and two knights.


    I swear I remembered to lock it,

    Was blasting the king like a rocket.

    With forced mate in two

    And nought left to do

    The phone made a noise in my pocket.


    Destroyed in a battle of wits,

    Opponent was too good at blitz.

    But I became livid

    As all became vivid,

    All his moves matched those of Fritz.


    The president stood for election

    And pulled off his plan to perfection.

    He left large amounts

    In Swiss bank accounts

    The payments evaded detection.


    Playing the best I was able

    His kingside it looked too unstable.

    With one crushing move

    Did he this disprove

    My fist smashed a hole in the table.

  • #16

    Excellent stuff madhacker but is the president one in by mistake?

  • #17

    That one was meant to be about FIDE elections

  • #18

    Oh, no, I'm on a roll again... 



    There was a bro from Formosa,

    Who played the slow Saragossa,

    The result was disaster,

    So he never made Master,

    But his rating got closa and closa.



    A man on his fifteenth martini,

    Challenged the engine Houdini.

    The post portem showed,

    That he took the wrong road,

    By playing the weak Mengarini.



    A farm horse was boastin' and smirkin',

    That he was gonna stop workin'.

    He got drunk on a ride,

    And fell to one side.

    The result: the attack they call Durkin.



    A priest who would never become prez,

    Was named el Señor Ruy Lopez.

    He racked up the wins,

    With his great bishop pins,

    No matter what the Average Joe says.



    If you are a chessplaying nerd,

    With a taste that's a little absurd,

    Put fear in their eyes,

    With a solid surprise,

    By playing the thing they call the Bird.



    The name seemed to me to say PETROB,

    At least in its Cyrillic script name job.

    I used it to draw,

    With my mother-in-law,

    And even my old Uncle БOБ.



    A race horse got drunk at a bar,

    And tilted a little too far.

    He fell to the right,

    A pitiful sight.

    The result: the attack called Amar.



    A man by the name Preston Ware,

    Reacted to an uncommon dare,

    To bring out his rook,

    To a3, bishop took.

    No wonder a4 was so rare.

  • #19


  • #20

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