Here's one for the gamers
dungeon dwellers, competitors and casual players
Whether they're at home or at a friend,
footballers, car racers or dragon slayers

To the world that looks down on us
for those who's hobbies least appeal
Just because they don't understand the reason
or share the passion we feel

Gamers like acheivements
each to their own
Whether its to vanquish the opposition
build, or break their enemies throne

Is that so different
perhaps they spend a lot of time at home
But isn't playing online with their friends
a little better than just sitting alone on ones phone?

The world of gaming has evolved
and adapted so much
It's a common to see a mother aligning fruit
or a child with a flapping duck

And is it such a bad thing
if the players are actually having fun
It may not be making them better
but I can think of many worse things they could have done

They say games encourage violence
but these people are some of the kindest I've ever seen
Theft, ****** and street racing
would it not be better if these things were only done behind a computer screen?

For many, its more than just a game
and can lead to some desperation
But people need to know the limits
and play in moderation

For some
it's to do things they wouldn't normally do or say on a daily basis
A couch potato wanting to explore the world
avoid boredom, keep their mind from stasis

To feel the breeze of a challenge
drive a fast car or
sword-fight,
maybe even do some parkour

Whether they want to skydive
or skate over a hill
To be able to do something dangerous
without having to sign a medical bill

We all have our reasons
some play casually while others play to vent
E-gaming has become so popular
now hosting world tournaments and many gaming event

This is how we are
so please let us be
Our motives are like captured birds
are we are just setting them free

Whether you want to be a princess
or guardian of a banana tree
You can do whatever you want
just follow your dream

People will always be different
this is just another sub-culture; like fans of a band
But we are the gamers
and by this title proudly we stand

My life is different now.
Like it's a game that's been updated.
And I am the main character.
And I'm always low on stamina and health.
Countless restarts, as though I've messed up the level.
But time still goes on and the level changes.
The game is a mess  with the only mission to beat being depression.
The NPC's  are all non talk-able pixels.
There are random jump scares and flashes of horror and gore.
Hard problems and puzzles to beat, with out the right answer.
No matter how many times I hit save, my progress is still missing.
My story line is incomplete.
No explanation or the controls.
No main objective, rather than surviving.
There are no cheat codes or a guide to help me.
It's hopeless.
There is no quitting.
There is title screen or pausing.
There is no end.

I hated Dawkins a little less when his words came from your mouth.

Your unabashed sincerity endeared me to you from the moment you showed me your vintage Atari. I don't recall if that was before or after you bragged about your Star Trek DVDs. Not that it matters, but I hope you've found a place to store all of those wires protruding out of your gadgets like Medusa's head of snakes.

My family liked you, especially my mother. It was probably your staunch advocacy of 4th amendment rights.

Remember those nights we sat in bed and traded secrets on small scraps of paper? We were lovers  for... five weeks by then? It struck me by the third slip that it didn't matter what it would say--I knew I'd still love you anyway. But I knew that from the moment you removed my knee-high boots and kissed my feet when I rode up on my Harley. You unstrapped my helmet and poured me wine. Though we promised to never tell anyone, I just wanted to say: I still smile when I think of your 15-year-old self trying to pick up a ******* on a desolate dusty road. Do you still have those hastily-written pieces of paper? They're yours to keep; I hope they're safe.

Nothing of my new world reminds me of you. There's no Jeopardy to watch, no NPR to hear in your white Saturn, and no desert mountains to hike. Not in India. Maybe it's because nothing is similar that my memories of us stay so firmly imprinted in my mind. Similarities would only erode my recollections. Maybe that's why I almost forgot about the chai tea I'd serve you in bed, coupled with almonds and apricots on the saucer.

But you, you're a walking encyclopedia of my home town. You knew every cactus-lined freeway, the name of the state attorney general, and the best place to grab a Four Peaks beer. Because of this, I could never extricate my love of home and my love for you. To me, you'll always be home.

For better or for worse, I remember it all. Including the soft piano rift of the chess game we'd play on your XBox. I'm guessing you'd beat me, should we play again today. I still have the wooden chess set I got you for your birthday... but we both know I can't give it to you. I'm sorry.

I never believed in saving people before I met you. Before, damaged was a weakness; now I think you just needed a polish. I never told you, but I read your psych evaluation--I found it when I was cleaning your room (with your permission, I add). The therapist was right: you're not aloof, just too smart for the room. I thank God that you never bought that container of nitric oxide.

I know we said we'd marry if I ever came back home. A no-frills city hall marriage suited us just fine. I have no doubt we would have had a simple, sweet life. You would've relented to letting me get a dog to keep your arrogant cat company. Our biggest fight would be over which castle door the RPG character should open, and you would've helped me improve my golf swing on the inexpensive dilapidated course near my old junior high school.

But likewise... our biggest adventure would've been only a roadtrip to the neighboring county. And I wanted to explore. I needed to explore. You, who never wanted to stray outside of a 100-mile radius could never satiate that curiosity. But I know we could have made it work. I know we would've been happy.

Sometimes I wish we could be the best of friends. I know we can't; not when I started dating my now-husband so close after we ended things in tear-stained emails when I went overseas. He swore off her; I swore off you. That's the way things go, I guess, when you get older.

I know it might seem like I've moved on and forgotten you.

Moved on, yes. Forgotten? Never.

It probably wouldn't be the same if we met again. I have too much love for you that could never be conveyed. My love for you has changed; it's not romantic. But it's still this throbbing appreciation for everything you are. I couldn't bear guarded chit chat. Not with you.

And I hope you are happy. Have you realized your worth yet, or are you still wasting your time with broken high school grads who listen to Ke$ha? I can't tell you who to love... but I hope she's an astrophysicist, someone who loves Carl Sagan even half as much as you. I want her to read Noam Chomsky to you late at night, and wake you in the mornings with a glass of milk and cookies. She'll prefer simple mashed potatoes to dim sum, and have a weakness for microbreweries. She'd be gorgeous in that bookish sort of way. Yes. That's the girl for you.

....I'm sorry it's not me, my dear atheist.

psiór vs.
                        pśιór "debate".

every area of interests has its cul de sac,
its brick-wall, a dead-end as it were,
a point where transcendence is
welcomed, unavoidable,
but nonetheless: miserable stalled.

philosophers have the cartesian
   cogito ergo sum -
whatever arithmetic of wording
they produce, not even samson
could topple this pillar of foundation
for the temple of thought.

the same is with my example...
it would appear that the diacritical
**** ι with a floating head i
did not translate further, beyond
the same treatment of yot (j) -
(gee a jeep! yodh: serif (י) and
rashi (

yet by oath alone, hebrew orthography
invokes itself in letters...
unlike the post-roman orthography
of words...

                   ι    י      
                      Y         (    .    )
                      ي

                            ­        floating alongside
e...
         if only the greek sigma
   had the tetragrammaton of the arabic "ι" -
the initial σ (يـ‎) & the final ς (ـي) are
indeed there, but what of the isolated
(ي‎) & the medial (ـيـ‎) - unless of course
of course we treat to invoke the
upper-case: Σ - such as is missing in arabic,
and is only a question of: how much
the prolonged line?

p.s.

   why would i ever like the evolution
of gaming?
  well... teenage boy, "trapped",
by a video game,
what were my usual saturday mornings?
strapped to an PS1....
tenchu, metal gear solid...
       i am a gamer,
like most people are readers
on the *******...
      i'm here to play a game,
with indefinite time constraints,
as i am concerned about
  massaging my ****,
to ease my prostate concerns...
wankers.

          i'm still going to listen
to byzantine chants...
    because? modern gaming,
well, sure,
   it's, "free"...
but there are in-built
           payment processors...
additions, etc.,

   like me and my maine ****
cat,
      6 candles....
i know he wants to "escape"
via an open window,
but before he can "escape"
(i will let him put)...
he has to play a blinking
game with him,
i squirm, i close my eyes,
he does likewise...
  the candles are still lit...

but gaming has evolved...
"once upon a time"
you'd run into a games shop,
tongue waggling...
for the next big release...

      i know... i know...
war robots...
           that mobile game...
2 lame 2 blame...
that's my user name...
i haven't spent a dime / cent /
penny on this game...

what i do like,
is playing the game with
a...  ah! - - - - - - - - - -

but times have changed,
it was no longer about RPG games
akin to final fantasy VII,
and cheat books...

or playing Sims 3000 finding
the escape wormhole
of playing a Sim playing
a computer game: inside a computer
game...
            
when you bought a game for
$50 bucks...
and was never told:
it's "free"...
but then have to invest in
******* overpriced additions...

- - - - - - - - - handicap!
        i like war robots,
because?
       i like playing with a handicap!
the people who spend money?
mostly Koreans, Russians,
Kazakhs... H'americans,
Brazilians...
            you know,
what really evolved in gaming?
the chance to play in a non-NPC
environment...
   to play alongside live gamers...

that **** broke the ******* camels
****, sack, and *******...
last time i checked...
women were more into gaming
than the men were:
candy cwash saga...
   men fathomed gaming
via the narrative component...
but what of this additional
payments?!
in the good old days:
you paid 20 quid, you had your narrative...
now, "fwee"... but,
no wait... there are... additional
payments, you see?

i like playing a game,
handicapped...
in a free game environment...
when, your prized asset
is patience?
and all the rich arabs / russians
are spending money,

   and you, simply, wait...
and perfect your tactics?!
while they are buying up all
the "cheat codes"?
        sure... they'll serve the purpose
of staging 4000 battles...
you, eh... around 300+...
but their % rate?
      6... they have a 6% rate of success...
with 4000 or so battles...
while you?
           300+ battles?
roughly in the range of
60 - 50% success rate...
        gaming, has changed,
games were never "free",
as they are "free" now...
        
   hell, i'm not a gamer to be honest...
some people treat taking a ****
as the only time required to read
a book, i treat the same "timed" allowance
to play a game...

                 my mother is a gamer,
we've reached a moment in history where
women will play more mobile games
than ever boys would play,
video, narrative games...

          my mother is a gamer,
that's just eerie...
                   i have a second game
in tow....
   a blinking game with my maine ****
cat, surrounded by 6 candles...
oh he has the garden for the worth of
night...

but gaming has changed...
    i like the handicap dynamics of
war robots...
       like **** will i spend any money
on the game...
  i want to play against
the paying russians, chinese, arabs
and kazakhs....

          ******* - my favourite mode...
team work...
every single time i leave
my rogatka to jump and sprint
capturing beacons
when the battle is almost over...

thank **** i just bypassed
the evolution of PS1 into PS2 and PS3
and whatever else came...
     i missed about 10+ years of
gaming...
   and i hit the beehive jukebox...
of games without NPC characters...

i revised gaming at the right time,
when NPC disppeared,
completely,
and gaming became revised
by the internet live-event
game-membership.

A million miles from home;
smoke and dust in the air,
the buzz from incoming rounds
and the sounds of artillery
prevailed over what used to be
a calm, quiet and very sedated
environment,
Two silhouettes could be seen
in the distance making their way
towards a compound in the
middle of a field,
One of them was carrying what
seemed to be an RPG,
the other - two rockets,
Come to think of it... if I didn't
take that shot, our advance
could have been hauted,
which is an understatement,
so I did it anyway,
One to the chest, one to the
head and guy number two went down,
All I had to think about now was
the RPG,
I aimed down my sights and....
he wasn't there,
I peaked to my right and tried
to see if he could be hiding behind
cover, though there wasn't any;
just sand and loads more,
I could hear over the radio that
our squad had a visual on a
target with an RPG so I asked
if they could confirm his position,
the seconds seemed to pass like days,
I felt sick all of a sudden when
I heard a loud explosion
and then silence... ... .
I could hear my heart pounding,
no one was responding on the
coms and I thought for sure
I was the last one standing,
I was just hoping the guy with the RPG
didn't make his way to the
other two rockets.

I miss the days
when the only way my heart
was broken,
was upon achieving an ending
to an RPG
I decided to leisurely beat
in a year.
That empty feeling afterwards,
used to be the only hole
that I dug myself
until I left the protection
of my bedroom,
and realized we are all games
Life loved to beat
over and over again.

Sitting in my home
The power hasn't gone dead
I'm writing in a storm
Letting the wind carry thoughts from my heart
Up the spine down to my pen

Thoughts like... You and I snuggled together our bodies United against the cold or more accurately, me sitting on this couch alone, playing a video game that's old

Or wondering what it would be like if Zelda went cyberpunk or if banjo kazooie was an rpg,
Or if pokemon was a platformer, these weird daydreams interest me

freckle-faced
     jug-eared
          left-handed
skinny as a fungo bat
loose-jointed
     like a string-puppet
in sports  
     not great but
          scrappy and fun
long distance runner
     played hard
          no grudges
nobody’s idea of handsome
     voice like a scratchy record
married straight out of high school
     drafted
101st Airborne
     everybody had a dumb nickname
          Denny, Little Old Lady
               nobody remembers why
     Thua Thien, South Vietnam
          hit by an RPG
               August 5, 1968
smithereens in a body bag
days later, a letter
     informs
          he’s a daddy
Denny, if you’d lived sixteen more days
     you could’ve legally bought beer
I’m sixty-seven years old
     you’re forever
          almost twenty-one
    
Memorial Day 2015
We've lost them by the thousands.  
We grieve them one by one.

Dumbrowski was a 6 foot 5 giant
from some hell hole mining town
somewhere south of Pittsburgh.
All sinew and bulging muscle
he looked like a painting
of the perfect, invincible warrior.
Perhaps he heard the incoming
whistle of his private RPG.
He opened his arms as if
to welcome its deadly embrace.
I was circling low overhead
in the waiting medevac chopper.
The round took him directly in the chest.
Every part of him took off
in hilarious random directions.
Arms went east and west. Head skyward.
Legs and boots travelled south.
His entire thorax just vanished.
Blood, brains and skin
splattered everyone nearby.
Later we picked up the pieces
and bagged them for his ride home;
the torn shreds of a man who had been
human one minute and meat on the ground
just a few minutes later.
Invincibility is clearly relative.

My internet is slow,
My mind is impatient.
Despite my close proximity to the modem,
The connection fails.
The lagging RPG's,
Instant messages delayed,
Even a simple HTML screen cannot load.
CONNECTION FAILED. RELOAD YOUR BROWSER.
My internet connection is weak,
And my patience is weaker.

knock down
a sassyredhead
better dodge the rebound
stings like *****
on a friday night
this ginger was born to fight
i don't take **** from no one
especially when i'm in charge
i hit hard
even though i'm some ****** sitting behind a computer screen
killing monsters and other fake human being
-s
on a low budget rpg game
i'm still leading a ******* team
you being older doesn't mean
that i don't get respect
i'm your ******* guild master you **** -.-

It's like i play a video game
A third person shooter
Or a badass RPG
My Avatar interacts
With the world
While I control him
From my comfortable room
My avatar talks to you
Not I
My avatar laughs at your jokes
Not I
My avatar holds your hand
Not I
My avatar is who you know
Not I
But I'm done playing
I want to destroy my avatar
I want to lay my hand on the screen
And push right through it
And enter your artificial world
And find you
And hold your hand
with my
real hand

fallen warrior's    dying gaze  .  .  .
blurry sun    she braids gold rays
gilded strands     grace Avrey’s hair
misty     tear-pooled stare  .  .  .





Dodoitsu. 7-7-7-5 (26) syllables
gv  .2015

Pfc. B.V. ,  a 22 year old mother of a little girl named Avrey
was Killed in 2010,  by an IED, RPG attack near Kunar province,
(145 military women killed as of April.1.2013 in Afghanistan, Iraq & Kuwait

Dungeons and dragons and horses and wagons.
What you imagine is your fantasy.
Adventures of magic.  Some happy, some tragic.
Whoever the hero, it's your time to be!

in  D & D!  Let us go play an RPG!
Let's forget about reality!
No responsibilities!

No chores to do here,
we eat and drink brewed beer;
I have this scepter you call a broom.
Don't look with your eyes dear,
O' just open your mind clear;
Open the sky wide, take flight from this room!

in  D & D!  Let us go play an RPG!
Let's forget about reality!
No responsibilities!

It's crazy how sometimes
we'd lay there forever
gathering intel.
The bad guys
would move around
as if they owned the place,
scurrying to and fro,
moving ordnance,
an RPG or two,
lots of AK's.
Most of the time
when we saw them like that,
we'd bag them in an airstrike.
Game over.
Camo works.

So you are bringing me pain
I tear at my face
Hoping the flesh will mold itself
Into something
better
I look like a zombie tonight.
Im tired of executing this fight.
I thought i could do this 'till i die
Truth is all I wanted to do was chase you.
And in the end the question is what did you even amount to?
I was willing to give up my skinny jeans,
Aviators
And band shirts
In turn for your attention and love
But you took me and made me a fool.
"All in the name of love"
I tried to be what you wanted
But what you wanted was a swimsuit model and a load of ca$h.
Im sorry,
But im not saying sorry to you.
Im apologizing to myself.
I was willing to wash myself away
For a girl.
And it seemed like my body and heart was shot at with an rpg.
But know,
I wish you
A very special
********

Oh the joy of a boy
With a much yearned for toy,

Who never saw
The horrors of war.

Oh the sadness of a boy
Born where joy

Is an illusion,
As destruction and confusion,

Are his reality
He has never seen normality,

As never ending war
Rages outside his door,

And the only toys he sees
Are Kalashnikovs and RPG's

Tom Higgins 15/05/2014

A writer, aspiring poet,
constantly afraid that she’ll blow it.
A daughter, loving sister,
insecure that anyone could ever miss her.

A misfit, won’t ever quit,
pretends she doesn’t actually give a ****.
A poser, laughably mediocre,
she draws her originality from the ones before her.

A reckless forgiver, a generous spender,
hold her back and you’ll most definitely suffer.
A blunt speaker, a big dreamer,
bitterly honest because she couldn’t ever stand being known as a liar.

A level six sorceress, an RPG-er,
she’s a d20 that never manages to roll a high number.
A voice with many accents, a toolbox filled with talent,
she wants to voice the characters in a first-person shooter.


                                                       *

But mostly, she’s the girl
who overwaters flowers
because she feels bad for them.

Who dyes her hair bright colors
because she gets bored
and simply for the hell of it.

Who battled cancer for over a year
but can’t manage
to call herself a survivor.

Who wrote this poem
even though she thought
she didn’t have the words for it.

Keening Iraqi rpg koranic crumbles heaven’s.  Enkidu kills the god, decapitates forest’s guardian.  Against girl-groping monk Sharvan said truth ******, choot ******, on the Matara Express headed toward Colombo. Egyptian acres scent ***** where Hanuman dropped moly mountain into naga kovil’s backyard.  Caramel tethers artery, never speaks in word-simple.  Father’s thrush to go plucked flensed singer, lashes silken, cuts drafted ghost-voiced achtungtexte in elongated black ink.  Affirming unchecked fluent grit refresh eagle standard, lost legion trollops ******* like Catullus.  Cantering
predicate broidered domine dismissal, does not prevent smatter, and boozed brought fools alongside.  Murderers cremating vulgate rob black willow mosque.  Dappled spent commands a beautiful that is no place.  Squirming myrmidons march honey trail to the western sea.  Disregard lack, loss, and overrule morose placental hayride.  Mint golden sluggish essays.   Snaring nearness generously urinate, anticipate licks of *****.

Life is role-playing
Invest in side-quest, distract
In fact from the main

I'm a machine-
gun wielding ******-
path of destruction
scorched by hatred
plumes of resentment
billow into the air above me.

Kidnapped
at an early age.
Given straps
and a surly rage.

I have a vicious commander
who wants to get even
so I find it odd
I should call him God
but that's the law.
My arms
an extension of his will.
My mind
an extension of his mouth.

I see my life chiseled in stone before me
it's defined by a maniac's brutal orders.
So in order to avoid misery
I embrace it.
My value is in violence
so I say carpe diem
and RPG them.

I mitigate my murderous misery
through ****** and methamphetamines.
Saccharine civilians deal with life
through hope and faith.
I resent them
for the life they've lived
for the hope they've maintained.
I wonder if their hope and faith will survive
after being ***** by a child.

The light is the first thing I see
When I start up this game I love.

The music compels me to press start,
loading up the save I still have from many years ago.

The art is beautiful like ripples in water
and the sweet gameplay that makes me want for more.

Or, that is what I used to feel.
For the game is gone, forever lost in the reaches of who knows where!

An RPG, long forgotten by man,
But is still loved by many.

It pains me to say that there is no way for me to ever find that special game.
Not even by buying a new one.

I sent you a friend request
You accepted
I got butterflies.....
You messaged me
My face got hot
And carbonated my eyes
An I..................
Found myself lost catotonic
In a hypnotic gaze swimming .....dare I say it..
Naked unashamed immersed in you profile page.......
You were shy ,flighty and
Cryptic. ....sorta on the chilly side..........
That made me feel even more attractive.........
Cause when you did respond
You never were the one to break that bond
An immaculate conception
Friendship ...........randomly
We .............2 out of billions
Billlions of miles , people, years.....space
And we are instantly cosmic
Soulmates..........you said you wanted to meet........
We did .........
O m G ......
A legend on the silver screen
Model for S.I. Vouge. Prada......an..... I........
Was nothing but starry eyed
Lacivious insatiable......
You bad girl out did my fantasies with full recompense
We became lost in RPG....
Then on that dec.morning
In full slumber without warnning.
I woke and felt as though i was levitating.
Above a tub of ice water
I was and you had me by the throat .......body slammed me
Almost drowed me pulled me up
Savagely beat me .......threw
Me out in the snow .......
Dare i say it naked.....
You .........were wearing my
Farorite furry......since then
I ve sent you money ,
Flowers,love,friend, requests,advice,forgivenezz
No strings attached.......
I live on the streets now
But still working......
I send you every thing .....
And said. I said I love u
Unconditionally.........
Why cant I send you.........
Away............