Saturday, March 5, 2011

For Carol

Well, it's been two days since I've posted anything according to carol. So I will post something. Not sure what, maybe I have a poem that I wrote in class or something?
Anyways I am rather mad about the whole boarders closing down, or at least a lot of them. Why is it that people can't appreciate books as entertainment anymore. I am talking about the physical forms of books. Now that were talking about that I do remember a poem I wrote recently. There is some editing need to be done, but I am too lazy to critique it right now.


she looked at me with her wide
brown eyes, full of luster
and age
and even wisdom from time
she spent breathing life
into the hearts of
those who love her

and she said to me

“look at this handy new
electronic book called an
e-reader that your grandfather got for me—
it’s so wonderful
you can flip pages with
just the press of a button
and it doesn’t cost much
for each book”

i smiled, glanced it over and
replied as my insides turned
to ash from the disgust of such an
“grandma, i personally hate these
they are so impersonal and not the same

i enjoy real books, you know,
the ones that you hold in your hands,
the ones you find at book stores
and libraries
and airports

i like to hold the book in
my hands, i like the feel of the rough
pages as my thumb and index finger
graze the edges ever so smoothly
as to not receive a cut
or to leave a rip,
to not ruin it and bend
the pages with folds

i like the feel of the book
when i hold it in my
hands like it’s a teddy bear
with enough power to
kill an entire nation—
a weapon of words

my sweet genocide

a book is a physical object
meant to be held,
meant for readers to be drawn into
like pictures on pages painted with
because the concrete book itself
is something that helps me
affiliate myself with the story,
i become one with the novel as
i engage my mind on adventures of
who killed whom?
and the apparition is staring at me through the mirror
and Frodo Baggins is my best friend
while Harry Potter is my idol

but electronically?
can I really associate myself and
become engaged so deeply
as I do with the book in
a physical form

each flip of the page
is another step into the novel
nearing the climax
as my heart races…
and those are called ‘page-turners’
not electronic-devise-page-scrollers

each page has a scent so unique
from anything else
I can’t even put it to words—
the smell draws me in,
as does the plot
and setting
and format
and feel of the pages
it’s the aroma that stains my
fingers like cigarettes do and fills
my nostrils with a sense
of a ‘guaranteed-page-turner.’

they will always be there for me

while electronics eventually die

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