first draft: 2/20/2013
by Banuk
This is the I-generation we are living in
The Internet age. The Iphone, Ipad,
Instagram my life era.
Everybody shouts, “I, I, I matter”
“I live THE life”
A life that’s pampered,
glorified,
ossified,
hampered
by hashtags and counted likes.
Online, oddly, is where we found each other.
Two strangers from world’s ends,
lost like many others.
Still, we did find each other,
thanks to Craig’s ad lister.
Now we have a story so strange
but, all the same, about two turned on strangers.
Like Joni’s good old tune:
“You turn me on like a radio…”
This you do. This still true.
Even 6,000 miles away,
15 hours apart.
Even the Skype way.
Still, the ghosts of the old-fashioned way haunts.
Even in the era of “I”,
still can’t help but wonder why?
Why this? Why us?
Of course we have yet to meet eye to eye,
and then, there’s the dreaded goodbye.
I wonder,
Are you excited, scared, delighted?
Where will we wander?
Will there be sparks and thunder?
Or, will we end up asunder?
Do you, too, think of us two?
Do you stay up all night, too?
Amused if all this is true?
And there’s a Joni song again:
“I could drink a case of you…”
A case too of this drunken cybeer lovin’.
Until Joni’s voice fades and
until I hear Bukowski shouting:
“It burns in the first daylight of reality!”
Poof.
Burn.
Gone.
Until then, let’s be drunken.
A case more of this cybeer lovin’!
by Banuk
This is the I-generation we are living in
The Internet age. The Iphone, Ipad,
Instagram my life era.
Everybody shouts, “I, I, I matter”
“I live THE life”
A life that’s pampered,
glorified,
ossified,
hampered
by hashtags and counted likes.
Online, oddly, is where we found each other.
Two strangers from world’s ends,
lost like many others.
Still, we did find each other,
thanks to Craig’s ad lister.
Now we have a story so strange
but, all the same, about two turned on strangers.
Like Joni’s good old tune:
“You turn me on like a radio…”
This you do. This still true.
Even 6,000 miles away,
15 hours apart.
Even the Skype way.
Still, the ghosts of the old-fashioned way haunts.
Even in the era of “I”,
still can’t help but wonder why?
Why this? Why us?
Of course we have yet to meet eye to eye,
and then, there’s the dreaded goodbye.
I wonder,
Are you excited, scared, delighted?
Where will we wander?
Will there be sparks and thunder?
Or, will we end up asunder?
Do you, too, think of us two?
Do you stay up all night, too?
Amused if all this is true?
And there’s a Joni song again:
“I could drink a case of you…”
A case too of this drunken cybeer lovin’.
Until Joni’s voice fades and
until I hear Bukowski shouting:
“It burns in the first daylight of reality!”
Poof.
Burn.
Gone.
Until then, let’s be drunken.
A case more of this cybeer lovin’!