Arcade

There is a game that has no platforms, nor any controls. 

Only two players, paired by chance encounter and events.

There are no slots or power cables, but two single wires.

Wires that connect and sync with the lifeline within the chest.

I face no screen or graphic emulation, but the pixels of reality

Live feed from my senses of touch, and from the vision of my eyes

Which are fixated on her. My opponent.

Though, I would not call her an opponent in competition, or rival in objective.

For this game, is a beautiful collaboration of will and mercy

To achieve an innate and universal state of mind

One which cannot be explained or drawn within this realm..

‘Love’ is the coded title for this worldly life,

Yet much goes unsaid for its energy and existence.

We both work to complete levels, and become greater skilled with ascension 

Finding windows for exchanges and creating walls around only us

We find haven within each other, or rather a safe house

And only we hold knowledge of entering the doors we have.

Forces are in motion to see us fall. 

Forces made of time, distance, addiction, obsession, materiality and destruction 

And after the shelling, massacre, ambush and infliction 

If there is yet a pulse of connectivity between us

Then we have survived

We have Remained.

Only to be tested again once those forces resurface..

But soon the impenetrable walls, the kaleidoscope windows and secret doors

Will become our fortress.

A kingdom with minarets of collaboration and commitment 

And we can both say truly, that Love; our soul desire, has been fulfilled.

And that is my mission

That is the mission of every being.

I have played this game twice.

And I have lost twice.

My blame has targeted misfortune, cowardice and insecurity

And every time that I find myself in front of the booth

In the Arcade of Intimacy and Union

I see the red neons, and fuses of fireworks, and hear of romance in synths    

I place my hand in my pockets, and they are full with coins

Coins carved out of Emerald, Ruby and Gold

Jewels that have been collected in my solitude.

Because wealth of mind only grows in states of isolation

The pressure of neglect, and empty rooms of your house makes you wise

Wise in patience, and you learn to observe your world from a calm silence.

And now I have inserted a coin, and a very familiar wire creeps and grips

The ports in both my ventricles..

The rush of intoxication, and awakening of the senses have me in the realm

A zone so familiar

A zone I seek to dominate and win.. this time.

But what has me here writing.. is a moment of clarity which I have experienced..

That screen which appeared before me, flashing in amusement;

*Insert Coin* GAME OVER *Insert Coin*

Was what I thought to be the end of a failed union. With her.. 

But I realise now, that the screen is no longer a mockery or omen of failure 

I realise now, why two players have individual wires.

The screen of mind, and perspective are separated with her and myself.

The events and senses are shared.

But the interest gained from our transactions are different in weight.

I find that all exchanges which I thought to be fruitless ventures

Were disguised successes,

Bloodless Victories.

I reached the hereafter of Love, long before she could 

And the screen of defeat that she accepted, was mirrored to mine..

And I walked away with tokens trailing from my pockets

But tears for loss blurred my vision, and I saw tokens to be Memorial flowers

Like that which grows on the battlegrounds of the fallen.

I write this now, because I am in the booth

I write this now, because I feel this game becoming easier.

My only yearning is selfless. 

And that is to see that she can reach the pinnacle within her.

I am tired

Not in age, but in empathy 

I am tired of seeing the end screen flash before us

“An ocean will always be nearby, wherever I stay”

“Even the world’s ocean cannot clean off the blood on Bashar Al-Assad’s hands, prayers go out to the people of Syria”

Colours of Nostalgia 
Swim Good