Chess

My latest passion is chess. I'll definitely add more information later, but for now, I'll mention the openings I'm focusing on:

As white: King's Gambit is my main focus. If the gambit is accepted, then King's Gambit Accepted: Bishop's Gambit.
1. e4 e5, 2. f4 exf4, 3. Bc4

If black plays the Sicilian Defense, I play the Wing Gambit.
1. e4 c5, 2. b4

As black: Czech Defense is my main focus. This is a response to 1. e4.
1. e4 d6, 2. d4 Nf6, 3. Nc3 c6

Equivalently, my response to 1. d4 is Old Indian Defense: Czech Variation.
1. d4 d6, 2. c4 Nf6, 3. Nc3 c6
1. d4 d6, 2. c4 Nf6, 3. Nf3 c6

Poetry

I've been writing some poetry lately when the mood strikes me.

Breathe Deep (2025)

Beautiful as a summer sunrise
Dreaming of the weirder days.
Flying with the sweetest disguise,
Snoring under golden rays.
Joy to we who understand nature,
Precision lost in the forest glow.
Love is chosen;
Despair is earned;
To unreachable rainbows we must go.
Feral thoughts,
Elusive to the touch;
Fluff, mired in reality.
Time is the frailest crutch.
I keep what is true close to my metaphorical heart.
I walk along the strangest path,
I know someday we will be apart,
But the moment lingers, and I breathe deep.

A View from Above (2025)

A universe of gray -
Sheets of rain on my face,
The cycle of the world cleanses all.
A viewpoint fair, yet tethered to an Earthly spacetime.
High above the land is a pillowy magic,
A sunny paradise.
The pillows disperse,
Golden rays reach vast crevices,
But never to the true depths of nature's soul.
The core hides all of its secrets forever.

Precious Youth (2025)

Margarine paint on a flour wall,
A vivid memory of smell,
Pumpkin pie teases all.
The window is welcome to a summer breeze.
We hide from the Sun in the shade of the trees.
To our delight - whipped cream, a shared smile.
The fleeting time is ours,
Precious youth,
Precious while.

Here is some older poetry of mine:

Grand Actors (2012)

Grand actors
The devil runs
The demon slips
The angel whispers
The god falls
The stage is quiet.

Gold rulers
The market hops
The person lives
The animal cowers
The honor subsides
The throne is broken.

Grown feelings
The heart kills
The mind loves
The hand hesitates
The eye closes
The life is everywhere.

What Do You Pluck? (2012)

What do you pluck?
Harp,
Autoharp,
Tiple?

Domra,
Oud?

Yueqin?
Or
Ukulele,

Pipa,
Lute?
Uilleann pipes? No.
Çeng?
Kora?

I'm a reed player myself.

Hollow Logs (2006 or 2007)

Dreams are hollow logs
Logs can make grand houses
And they can burn to the ground
They can be filled up
In the hopes of making them stronger
And termites can just as easily
Break them down
Again they can be nailed together
And the nails may rust
And they will fall apart
But hollow logs
Are still around
Once the full log has decayed
And someone can pick them up
And rebuild them once again

And (2006 or 2007)

He is a brash french horn
Played in a familiar room
He is a tree of knowledge
Growing up the common mountain
He is a wobbly chair
That still holds any weight
He is water from a waterfall
That has yet to reach the ground
He is a lazy leopard leaping
And lying at the last lullaby
He is a summer breeze
That has made it through fall, winter, spring
And is back home
He is the toe
That keeps the body's balance
But may be forgotten
He is the fun of a jester
And the work of a Boxer
He is the loud dog
That probably won't bite
And he is the warmth of day
that prolongs into night
With the youth of a new moon
And

How to Make a Bomb (2006 or 2007)

Making a bomb
Requires nothing but
Simplicity.

Take a drink, firstly,
From the stream of life.
Take care not to drown,
Nor shall you be greedy,
But consume enough knowledge
For genius to endure.

Second shall find you
Playing with nature,
As the man slips
Unconceived poison in your flask,
Thought to do you good
Yet the bane of mankind.

Next the tan man with a hat
Will create a project thought
To liberate the sun,
And your poisoned soul will endure.

The fourth step shows you victory,
But in such a state that
Drunken consequence
Can strike twice,
And the healing of a nation
Will be the healing of the world.

Those whose ears can't listen
Will finally ignore you,
As redemption is what you strive for.

Finding peace will be harder than
you thought,
But in the end you know
You can be saved.

The Rock (2005 or 2006)

That coarse, dirt-speckled rock
Lying gracefully in the noon-day sunlight
Not a worry, content.
Suddenly kicked from its peaceful place
By a soul that doesn't appear to care about it;
A soul with no visible heart for the rock.
The rock becomes battered and bruised,
Beaten, chipped.
All the while the inside stays strong
Enduring the aggression is all the rock can do,
Working unwillingly.
The helpless piece of stone rolls arduously to a stop
Peace seems within reach
The heartless one rears its ugly head
The rock is again abused.
Mightily stripped from its resting place,
The rock seeks refuge in a place
That isn't so abusively chaotic.
An average drain, so beautiful to the rock
Sparkling, luminous water flows through
The rock, tediously moving with the water
Finds a new place
The rock can make choices, so wonderful
Slavery is in the past.
Yet for only one of thousands and thousands.

Me (2002/2003)

I'm the color of a painting showing a moon less night
I'm the sound that a crab makes while walking on the ocean floor
I'm the song of a cricket in a desert
I'm the dream of a bat sleeping in an endless cave
I'm the forest that never existed, but was remembered
I'm the secret that has been forgotten over countless ages

Behind the Story (2002/2003)

The mysterious hawk floods the valley
A grasshopper hides in the silver hamburger
the dragon flies bang! into the king
Who welcomes the beautiful chestnut queen
Her hero laughed because these bees flutter and scatter
All shock the beetles play together behind the tree
Ask the name of the blue gloomy table
wind, BOOM! The valley is black
Express the leather element.

Subconscious Thoughts (2002/2003)

The mental cosmos
Laughs between anger,
and scarlet ribbons.
Hawks hold the golden river
Between their gallant talons,
Whose masters ride through snow and,
Loyal until oblivion, the hawks will
never fall.

It's Getting Warmer (1999, Haiku)

It's getting warmer
The winter breeze is leaving
Spring is full of life.

When the Sunset Disappears (1998)

When the sunset disappears
into darkness, I see lots of stars.
When the night casts its shadow
on half of our world, I go to sleep
and have my rest.
The night creatures come out and play.

When the raccoons, mice, bats,
bugs, wolves and coyotes come out,
there is howling and squeaking and
growling and lots and lots of playing.
I'm in my bed listening to the noise.

The bugs are crawling, flying and
dying and soaring here to there.
The bats are flying all around
never hitting the ground. They're
soaring here and there, but
I don't know where they're going.

When the morning comes
I wake up, and all the raccoons,
mice, bats, bugs, wolves and coyotes
go away. I don't hear howling
or squeaking or growling. I hear
birds tweeting and the breeze blowing.

When the morning comes
all the other animals come
out and play. I will run outside
and jump on my skateboard
and ride it or watch TV and then
go to school.

Mongoose (?)

As the mongoose fights his prey
Every night and every day.
Millipedes are what he wants,
But rattlesnakes have to hunt.
Hunt mongooses
All night and day,
They seem to always get in their way.
Banded black stripes on their back,
Lay on the floor
Beneath a crack.
Running away from a Scooty falcon,
Seeing dust
He finds a hole and hides.
The Scooty falcon glides
Away
And looks for other prey.

Page written by Alex Spacek.
Last update: April 2, 2026