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Posts Tagged ‘New York City’

TAKING MY VIEW OF THE NEW YORK CITY SKYLINE

In 21st Century Culture on September 16, 2011 at 8:41 AM

I just made up the song as I filmed this on a smart phone. It’s sad, kinda… The view from my window, one I have looked at for years, will be gone forever; either today, tomorrow or by next week.

Watching something change, you know? It’s the only thing we can expect in this life. At least, that’s what my Nonie says, and she is most wise.

Silly little happenings in our little lives. Caught on the internet, here’s a bit of mine. XO

Little Moments of Freedom, Fireworks & Spontaneous Song

In 21st Century Culture, FOR YOUR CONSIDERSTION, I Can Sing!, Millennial Generation, NEW! on July 5, 2011 at 5:11 AM

Surprised, I See The 4th Of July Fireworks From My New York City Balcony from Gidget Widget on Vimeo.

I was late for the party uptown. I looked at the clock. I knew it. I’d miss the fireworks… again. Then, BOOM! I ran to my window to look out and to my surprise a perfect view. So, after battling with the door leading out onto our balcony, I stood watching them, a perfect view. I had my phone in my hand. I turned on the video record and then, for no reason, I started to belt out the “Star Spangled Banner.”

A piece of life captured in its moment. Perhaps, little things like this, go unnoticed. Yet, all together they add up. Each of us experience these pockets of moments, insignificant to many, but special for those who share them.

Celebrating Independence allowing for freedom to experience life, here’s a July 4th record by a young woman in New York City, USA.

Written On The New York City Subway

In Excerpts of Prose, FOR YOUR CONSIDERSTION, poetry, Short Fiction on July 3, 2011 at 12:40 PM

The F Train runs the course of Manhattan into Brooklyn Heights.

Late one evening, on a Wednesday, she steps onto the south bound train to go home. She takes a window seat, alone at the end of the subway car. Biting her lower lip, she opens a book and begins reading. But not for long.

Distracted, she closes it and removes a pen from her purse. Using the beige paper bookmark, she begins to write.

I picked it up long after the train crossed into Brooklyn. It read:

Did you ever consider that maybe what we’ve got isn’t so bad?

Maybe what we have is more than what we’ve had.

And somehow we manage to sleep at night.

(The free flow of thought is like a magnet catching dust. And sense has a lock that’s covered over with a thin layer flaking red rust. My mind is somewhere behind.)

But what I have is so much more than what I have had.

We move,

In and out and up and down, back and forth, underneath some immovable force.

And every once in a while, we pause and stop

Step back

And realize what we’ve got:

A piece of ourselves at peace

I flipped the book mark over and the small, crips letters filled that back as well. I kept reading:

Even though it will never be enough.

Here I am

And holding to who I am

I humbly ask you

Who you are and what made you think

We could take it this far —

because

Without you I would not be me

Nor you without me, would not be you.

But I humbly ask

IF we have taken this too far

IF in this pause

I must bid you farewell

Remembering this, alone,

Until I am old and undone.

Because what we have is more than what I’ve had

To lose it unexpectedly would be horrorific.

Leave me mad.

The woman on the subway became real.

I did not even know her name.

I paused.

Copyright 2009-2011, by Kimberly Cox, All Rights Reserved

Revision from November 1, 2009

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