The Poetry: Journey

Not that long ago, I wrote a fair amount as a poet, and produced some poetry CDs. Over the years, I’ve quietly been writing poetry about games I’ve played and loved. Yesterday, I talked with podcast host Scott Jones about writing poetry for one of his shows. I thought that, during this time of ascending crisis, poetry might be a kind of balm for us. So here is the first poem.


By Harold Goldberg

When here is not exactly here

And there is not precisely there

We move together on the sands

We slide down the dunes

and even up, like magic

outside the game, you walk the dog

like you are a border collie,

hungry for affection

Once inside, dogless on the outskirts,

you run

downstairs to fold.

And what I hear now at the window

is the sound of cars and tires below

making the sounds of waves

and then sand swishing in the wind

And then those seconds

of silence

There’s no traffic,

when here is so exactly here.

Journalist/author Harold Goldberg is the founder of the New York Videogame Critics Circle and the New York Game Awards.

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