Day 7: Love Poem...To an Inanimate Object

I was immediately intrigued by today's prompt: to write a love poem to an inanimate object. Cool!

Thought about it for a while and no, unlike the suggestion on the site, there's no pen I have an ardent admiration for, no notebook or infact, any other writing paraphernalia that I'm fond of. Hmmm, I thought, what other object is dear to me, always beside me? I decided on my glasses, out of sheer practicality. My thick-rimmed geeky-style specs. Without them, I'd be at a loss, but I often treat them with a lack of respect... so this is the perfect opportunity to sing their praises. 

(I kept thinking of all those wonderful odes Pablo Neruda wrote to things - like a tuna-fish at the market, tomatoes, a book, wine - while I was writing these and the flippant tone in part may have come from him...)

*And I had so much fun with this exercise that I just had to do another ode, which I've included here too.

Ode to My Glasses

Kooky-cool, kohl-black
you are the epitome 
of definition. Sleek sides, 
peripheral pals
you make everything 
bigger, brighter, better.  
Oh how I admire
your swish curves 
and oogle-eyed 
look-at-me advances,
how you add intensity
to the blurriest 
of situations. 
Perfect prop 
to punctuate arguments, 
add a pernickety off-and-on 
emphasis when required,
suave sultry sidekick
to a bookish demeanor,
authentic alias 
when I need it most: 
you take a face from nought 
to smart - an instant 
intellectual pick-me-up, 
and would come in handy 
if I ever needed to disguise 
my superhero visage. 
Geek-chic, you seem like 
you'd fit right into 
a Parisian soireé
a Left-Bank conference,
or a professor's frown 
of philosophical intent. 

But more than just that: 
I need you. You're essential
to completing me. 
And I'm sorry now
for all those times 
I tread on you by mistake
clipped your wings,
threw you to the side,
wore you on my head
as a fiddly distraction, 
a cheap accessory, 
most especially for the silly 
on-and-off affair
with the Dailies
who left my eyes
in tears.
Truth is, I can't see 
the horizon line 
without you, or even -
myself.




Lap-Top Love

Baby in blue, that's what I call you. 
From the first moment I saw your turquoise top
and carried you careful, like a newborn in my arms, 
I knew, we'd be together, forever. 
Always at my beck and call, always true. 
I love the ping you make when you turn on,
your silence when it matters most, your blinking modesty,
steady hum of approval, the soft and easy touch of your keys
that know so well, by now, how to read me. 
Always by my side, slung in a hug, sat on a knee, 
you've become the keeper of my most deepest secrets.
Here's to you, hardware of my heart, enabler, of scribbled dreams.