I’ve been playing games and doing some designing, but mostly I’ve been writing. Specifically, I’ve been writing poetry. As a creative, I’ve always been frenetic, and the form suits me well. I can write something, analyze it, return to it, and it’s a short enough form that I can then walk away.
A recent poem I wrote is called Disputes. It is about my battles with Parkinson’s symptoms. I hate using war as a metaphor but here I will. It is about coming to terms with my disease and how it is effecting me.
I know, most of you expect content about games from a blog purportedly about the failings of an amateur game designer. But in my failings I am still creating and I think that’s important.
So here is my latest design. It’s not very interactive, but it’s short. So, at very least, you don’t waste a lot of time with this one.
by Gary Boyd
for my memory
I was charged by God to remember those hours,
And in only minutes recalled everything.
So, when the bill came by way of pony express,
Why did the voice on the telephone ring?
“I call on you now for what’s duly dissected,”
bit down on my lip, a frog in my throat.
No bars and no service, a bug too they collected.
A hoarse fly stings this drunk desert goat.
Disputes made on parchment, I spoke out in crystal
another notch loosed on the old bible belt
Chimes of a pen on the toast ring a pistol
God’s bell, gods’ spells, the gods fell, and all knelt
Bite of string round newsprint; nay, falsely spoke.
I have perjured myself, but the gospel alone.
Testament given, pounds of flesh, I awoke,
silver, gold-lamé, verdigris hell please atone.
Enter the sins of the past, scarabs recourse.
Terra cotta primates birthed in clay
they’ve bound me for death—and his pale horse—
a shogun, a shotgun, a wand, yesterday.