It is somehow shameful to realise that we become more and more dependent on our electronic tools….they are no longer our tools but they command our life. When we came home on Tuesday night after we had got stuck in the chaos due to the heavy rains in both parts of Nicosia and finding our house in the dark with many of our electronic devices damaged after it had been struck by lightning in the morning I was in deep despair. The transformer in the village – close to our house - was burnt out and had to be exchanged, that took them two days and finally for the electrician to sort out which instruments were damaged, some more hours went by before we had electricity again.

So I brewed myself some tea and wondered what I would do now in the dark with just a candle alight. I took my pen and started to make a poem on this situation and my final sad conclusion-

Sort of Fahrenheit 451

I use my pen today

Not my computer

To write a letter to you

A short one.

I like my handwriting

No longer used to it though

A very intimate moment

To be so close to myself.

I cannot enter through another gate

the world  of the others out there

to avoid the encounter with myself,

my soul and thoughts.

A big detour we took today

On our way home

Nicosia was under water

And lightning has struck our house.

Make copies of your poems

I can write words

On my mirror with lipstick

Or use charcoal to write

On any house wall

I can write words

On any sandy beach

Or use a stick to scratch

My words on any surface

I can use a chisel

To engrave even a novel

on stone or a sheet of copper

Or dedicate words on clay

I find in the brook nearby.

All those words I can recover

but not those I have left on my computer

When lightning has struck

my house in the morning hours.

I should start to make copies

The old way as we don’t know

What is going to happen tomorrow.