The Game of Chess

By Noel J. Nolan — July 2025

The game of chess is one of skill,

Of maneuvers sharp and silent will.

A game of balance — attack, defend,

Where one must fall, and one ascend.

Unless both hearts agree to draw,

The winner stands, the loser saw.

Each move a message, clear or blurred,

Each silence speaks without a word.

If you fail to see your foe’s intent,

Their strike upon your king is meant.

The battle builds, the act now three,

The curtain falls — inevitability.

The final call, a voice that’s late:

Checkmate — the end, the game, the fate.

The Chessboard and the Battlefield

Before a war ignites the land,

Spies creep forth at one command.

Through shadows deep, they seek and pry,

For secrets born where soldiers lie.

When nations sleep, while drums are near,

The price of peace becomes too dear.

Blind to movements at their door,

They wake to find themselves in war.

A tyrant rises, fierce and bold,

His eyes are steel, his heart is cold.

The dove’s soft words, though kindly spun,

Will only feed the tyrant’s gun.

Never yield, not one small part,

To those with war inside their heart.

For when the bombs begin to fall,

No peace remains — no hope at all.

Then tanks will roll where children played,

And boots will march where dreams once stayed.

Among the ruins, ghosts will weep —

The city’s heart no more to keep.

#poetry

Love this one ...on being a survivor from 1948

A time in the distant past when we're told with absolute clarity by the Media ,medical, and governments that smoking was good for you 😂

As the saying goes A picture paints a thousand words .

Thanks for sharing .

To sleep to sleep perchance to dream ...

The Golden Chords

By Noel J. Nolan – June 2025

Philosophy, music, the arts of the soul,

Each a bright branch from a radiant whole.

Born of the tree where ideas take flight,

Rooted in mystery, reaching toward light.

When music lifts hearts with a magical rise,

Golden chords shimmer, unseen to the eyes.

Maestros can hear them—those seasoned and wise—

In pop songs and ballads, in lows and in highs. 🎶

And just like in music, in thought we can find

Golden keys turning deep in the mind.

They open the gates where the dream rivers run,

Flooding the self with the light of the sun.

This pulse of creation flows steady and true,

A live-stream of wonder, both ancient and new.

The wellspring of insight, where visions ignite,

Where sparks from the darkness leap into light.

This gift, I believe, is our birthright to hold—

Not silver, nor diamonds, but something more bold:

A calling, a rhythm, a fire deep inside,

The golden chords where the muses reside.

#poetry #poem

Nolan on Music – The Lure of the Cello

The cello’s magical strings evoke the beauty and power of this majestic instrument, drawing us into the chambers of orchestral enchantment through the language of sound.

As it continues its journey through the theater of music, it crosses the Rubicon and drifts into our inner sanctum, bringing with it the poetry of sound—encapsulating the bittersweet rhythm of life.

Through an enchanting orchestral overflow, it stirs the tides of the inner spirit and awakens those powerful ancient instincts we inherit for musical sound.

🎶 🎶

Noel J. Nolan, 2025

Inspired by:

A poem by Patrick Kavanagh

Albert Einstein’s reflections on music

"If music be the food of life, let the band play on."

Musical notes stream into our lives, carrying sound and color for those fortunate enough to experience each note with a corresponding hue in their mind—simultaneously, in perfect harmony.

Some lucky individuals possess the rare gift of synesthesia, perceiving a flowing spectrum of colors with every musical note they hear. A beautiful fusion—a symphony of sound and color intertwined in the mind’s eye.

The Golden Chords

Philosophy and music have something very much in common,

as they are both creative branches of the same tree.

When we listen to a piece of music that we find uplifting,

it often possesses the golden chords that all experienced Maestros

know and understand.

The same principle applies to philosophy,

where the golden chords become the golden keys,

unlocking the imagination to a treasure trove of inspirational ideas.

Another way to describe this area of consciousness

is to understand it as the live-streaming pulse of creativity.

— Noel J. Nolan, 2025

#poetry

https://m.primal.net/OdRb.webp

Becoming a Conduit of Ideas: A Guide to Creative Thinking

While waiting for inspiration at the edge of my field of dreams, I wonder if my thoughts are awake today. Nothing seems to be happening, so I decide to draw from the well of inspiration. I’m waiting for that moment when my mind flows with new ideas, moving from the unconscious to the conscious.

This process, like an athlete in training or mastering typing through muscle memory, requires regular practice. It’s a self-learning exercise that can be done anywhere.

To receive creative thoughts, focus on your field of interest and eliminate negative noise to maintain a positive mindset. Keep a mental window open while allowing your imagination to form a picture. With daily practice, this habit will become second nature, enabling you to generate new ideas effortlessly.

Over time, you’ll find yourself living in the present while anticipating future trends. Even if your ideas are copied, you’ll be ahead, constantly creating the next new thing. Embrace the streaming pulse of creativity, positioning your thoughts to be part of inevitable change.

#poetry

**THE REFUGEE**

The boundary wall that the refugee finally comes to face at the end of their long and arduous journey will not stop the refugee. They will learn by pure survival instinct and an unrelenting persistence how to overcome that wall, sometimes having to pay the price with their life.

The highest wall they will find the most difficult to overcome over time is the emotional wall. This is the wall that grows inside every refugee. This wall runs very deep with the tentacles of its foundations stretching all the way back to where the obliterated bones of their war-torn past lie buried in the rubble of what was once their beloved family members and what they once called home.

*Noel J Nolan*

*Melbourne, Australia*

---

#poetry

**OLYMPIC VERSE**

Light the eternal flame to brighten up the arena of the mind,

So its light may illuminate all that is good in the spirit of man.

Enter the sanctum sanctorum of the holy grail,

Drink from the golden chalice, the chalice of liberating verse.

Release the white doves, share a message of peace with the world.

Let the chant of a thousand monks echo down the corridors of our inner thoughts,

Awaken within us the spartan giants of liberating verse.

Let the philosophy in your finest Olympian verse be shrouded in pure gold.

—NoeljNolan 2024 Paris Olympics

#poetry

**Paradox**

In a tale as true as time's own march,

I strive to unravel 'paradox'—a term so arch.

A lady's ring, with solitaire so bright,

Suffered a fate most dire one night.

The gem was lost, the band impaired,

To the jeweller's care, it was then ensnared.

With skilled hands and keen eye for its worth,

A new coronet was born, a diamond's rebirth.

As if untouched by time's cruel dance,

The ring was restored to its first glance.

The lady's joy was a sight to behold,

For the ring, once marred, now mirrored the old.

Time flowed on, and wear did show,

The wedding band's embrace began to go.

The jeweller's craft came forth once more,

A full shank stamped, as it was before.

Every piece replaced, from bezel to crest,

The ring shone anew, passing time's test.

Yet in the lady's eyes, it remained the same,

Her cherished ring, in spirit, not just in name.

For though each part was forged anew,

Her heart declared this truth she knew:

It was her ring, none could contest,

That's the paradox, the jeweller confessed.

— Noel J. Nolan, 2024

#bitcoin #poetry

hi Rita and Tony this is the original piece I wrote

in what I would call plain speak

usually while having a coffee around Toorak

and sth Yarra between my walks

the next one of footprints on the moon is in rhyme

cheers Noel

The Lure of the Cello

The cello's magical strings draw music forth,

Beckoning us into a chamber of orchestral enchantment

Through the language of musical sound.

As it continues on its journey through the theater of sound,

It crosses the Rubicon and drifts into our inner sanctum,

Bringing with it the poetry of sound

That encapsulates the bitter-sweet rhythm of life.

Through an enchanting orchestral overflow,

It moves the tides of the inner spirit

And brings nourishment to all the parched and tethered souls.

And the beautiful thing in all of it is…

All we have to do is listen.

This written piece on music was inspired by the magically performed classical pieces by Hauser,

Which brought to mind the beauty and power of the cello.

— Noel J. Nolan

#poetry

In the library of the mind,

With each turning page,

There holds a beacon of light

That illuminates a pathway

To the history of our colorful past.

— Noel J. Nolan

#poetry

Ripples Upon the Foreshore of Time

Footprints on the moon,

For Philosophy to resonate over time with each passing tribe.

It must stand alone and weather the ever-shifting sands of time.

It must be concrete, solid in its foundations,

In order to withstand the rigours of intellectual analysis,

While at the same time, it must support the pillars of our understanding

Of the world around us.

It will leave a message that will illuminate the architecture

Of our inner thoughts which in turn will reflect the spirit

Of who we were, as we passed through here once upon a time

As pilgrims on the plains of life’s journey.

It will leave our indelible footprints engraved upon the canyons of time

In the form of the written word.

The tribes that will follow, and time itself,

Will define its empirical value.

Written By NoeljNolan

12/12/2023

#poetry

**Footprints on the Moon**

Philosophy, to echo through time's vast hall,

Must stand alone, amidst the rise and fall.

With foundations firm in the shifting sands,

It must endure the mind's rigorous demands.

Supporting pillars of our worldly grasp,

It leaves a message, a luminous clasp.

Illuminating our inner thought's design,

Reflecting the spirit of our mortal line.

As pilgrims once on life's expansive plains,

Our passage marked by gains and by pains.

Indelible footprints, in canyons cast,

The written word's legacy to outlast.

Future tribes and time will come to see,

The empirical value of our decree.

Like moonwalkers' prints, left to attest,

Our presence here, in time's grand quest.

— Noel J. Nolan, 12/12/2023

#poetry

**In Chess and War**

If you're puzzled by your foe's last play,

In the chess game's silent fray,

It may well signal the third act's start,

And soon, they'll checkmate you, pulling apart.

So too in the theater of nations at war,

When one, passive, ignores the lore,

Till military forces cross the line,

Revealing maneuvers once benign.

When a neighbor wields a tyrant's might,

And shows aggression, poised for the fight,

A passive stance, though meant to appease,

Won't shield your city from the siege's freeze.

— Noel Nolan, 12/02/2024

#poetry

Harbour of Enchantment

Let your spirit come to rest in the Harbour of Enchantment,

where it will always glow, like a gleaming jewel washed brightly in an ocean of time.

Whether in light or shadow, your spirit will shine brightly forever and always.

- Noel Nolan

(Poem written for my brother, Frank Nolan, R.I.P.)

#poetry

"Pearls of Wisdom”

Within the deep recesses of the mind,

we cast out our philosophical nets to find

those pearls of wisdom so defined.

#poetry

The tide ebbs and flows,

Light transitions to day, then night,

Yesterday blends into today,

And today morphs into tomorrow.

Seasons cycle through,

Tide and time heed no one's call.

Life mirrors the sea, ever changing,

Learn to navigate its currents adeptly,

Stay proactive, avoid being swept away.

Technology's evolution shapes daily life,

For better or worse,

Artificial intelligence ingrains itself,

We adapt within its shifting confines.

#bitcoin #poetry

The tide ebbs and flows,

Light transitions to day, then night,

Yesterday blends into today,

And today morphs into tomorrow.

Seasons cycle through,

Tide and time heed no one's call.

Life mirrors the sea, ever changing,

Learn to navigate its currents adeptly,

Stay proactive, avoid being swept away.

Technology's evolution shapes daily life,

For better or worse,

Artificial intelligence ingrains itself,

We adapt within its shifting confines.

#bitcoin #poetry