Some personal reflections on games written a while back:

The Slow as Molasses Press

Here are some personal reflections on games written a while back:
Games are a conundrum that’s so profound
Sheer puzzlement abounds and overflows
I speak of games whose echoes may resound
Deep in the depths where no one ever goes
I disclude games with others on their face
It’s not too hard to see their large appeal
I speak of games that open inner space
Where competition with oneself seems real
It is this competition I would plumb
When games are played solo one against who
Is it myself or am I playing dumb
Or is it self-division is that true
And what of the computer I oppose
Or virtual opponents is that strange
The hours I have spent nobody knows
I have a sense that I may never change
Is it like smoking was before I stopped
A simple time-consuming addiction
Or an adventure that cannot be topped
Is it my private place in my own sun
Or just a testament to action’s pull
One decision, a hundred, any, some
Roll dice turn cards fall fate time full
And what emotion might we hope would come
I do not know we all are who we are
I see games finally as mysteries
For some a waste of time for others far
Far more a vehicle for thinking as we please
Whatever rings your bell is that the way
Is there a whole life somewhere else that’s lost
How free am I if games exert such sway
Could I rise up how much would freedom cost
And there’s an even deeper level too
For if I walked away would the game end
If it’s with me no matter what I do
Then finally it’s I I must defend
Ah conundrum you see it written plain
It all comes down to how you see it all
I shy away from every bloody stain
And seek protection in my own downfall