Jun
25th

Dancing Fire and Waterfalls… No Batteries Included

Files under Just Me, Travel, Writing | 2 Comments

Me at Mountain houseThis past weekend some friends of mine kidnapped me from my safe New York City lifestyle. We made our way up the Hudson river, taking the route that was heavily congested. . Me who spends most of the waking day in-front of a box, with a keypad and mouse making sure other people can seamlessly do the same, let my inner caveman out. is not anything new, nor is it for me, but something about this trip has opened a new beast inside me. Maybe its just the fresh air, the volcanic ash spitting out of the , or just the smells – burning wood, morning dew, stinking garbage, decomposing brush, food cooked over an open or just that forest blend that doesn’t blow down to the busy streets of NYC.

Waterfall1As I sat back our first night sipping on a beer and watching the flames of the dance, it occurred to me that it has been a long time since I wasn’t surronded by electricity or battery operated devices. Besides the car radio that we used as our jukebox and the flashlights that helped us find our sleeping bags and a nice tree for a midnight stroll, I found myself unwired and unwirelessed. Simulated into the 21st century technologists I thrive on our wonderful world of electronics. Right now besides the computer that i’m typing on, my iPod which i’m listing to or the five lights that are turned on in my studio apartment, I have the DVR which is quietly recording today’s 4400. This is the life of the 21st century and not only in the USA but all over the world. When I was down in Ecuador, everyone used the same electronics that made life a lot easier. They didn’t go over board like the consumer informed North Americans, but they aren’t sitting in-front of a on a $9.99 chair which they purchased from Target. (more…)

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Mar
9th

Far Side of the Glass

Files under Poetry, Writing | Leave a Comment

{by Terry Culkin}

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Green eyes squinting towards the sky,

a deep breath in, her mind escaping back inside.

Only moments ago she was on the far side of the glass.

Her memories linger on words, black type

letter by letter; traveling a thousand miles per second.

 

Never saw her lips move, a two-dimensional

picture sent and received, typed and entered.

Years of conversations in ones and zeros,

smiles and laughs echo in cyber space –

never met the girl on the far side of the glass.

 

Sharing our secret stories, those

dreams and fears locked inside,

a confessional booth through telephone calls

cyber chats over a digital line.

Never to hear her voice from the next room,

slide my hand through her hair,

smell the smoke when she cooks,

watch her eat from across the table.

 

Is this reality or a virtual hell?

Can you remember a face of someone you never met?

Can you find love thousands of miles away?

 

Even though our hands never touched,

pushing her further away is a sin.

However, our lives physically apart,

countries bordering between,

the gravity of the Universe,

keeps her on the far side of the glass.

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