is what it should be, a hook to draw you in. language good, rhythm good and I like the theme. Wouldn't it be nice if we could all sit to the same table; instead of like serfs and royalty? ~ Geezer.
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Like the song "if I ruled the world" nice message with a good way of using chess as the metaphor.

(I'm not that sold on the title though...checkmate is one word, check mate, balance mate sounds to me like a sailor's tale, (ay mate) ...

Enlightened me & that's one great gifts of poetry, I'm not a big chess person, game of war & all that, so I really loved your exploration in it's content & in it's form. & how you gently turned it around to be a pursuit of justice & compassion.

"Perhaps we should
Turn these squares

These borders
And board rooms

Into growing gardens
Instead of cubicles"

Lovely sentiment, such a healing balm in these days of intolerance... Dylan's "Masters of war" is a longer more blameful version of what you have neatly & more compassionately penned here.

If you know it, ignore, if not here it is for reference.

"Come you masters of war
You that build the big guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks
You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly
Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain
You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you sit back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
While the young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud
You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins
How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do
Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good?
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could?
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul
And I hope that you die
And your death will come soon
I'll follow your casket
By the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead"