Her Name Was H.P.

My nemesis

keeps his eyes wide open,

his ears bent in to listen above all,

she isolates him to the corner of the room

the edge of the house, untouchable.

 

She entertains him like no other,

never seemingly out of new topics,

discoveries, pop culture to share, political

views to abhor, or a lack of ability to challenge him

thereby chaining him by her for hours.

 

First when he awakes, following his ritual

of brushing his teeth, he can be found

gingerly attending to her, waking her up

from a short night’s sleep, she never seems to mind

this constant attention, opens herself like a rose

and lets him explore her for the few minutes

he has to spare before departing into his workday

and if it’s slow, he encases her with love and

brings her with him to share secret glances at

when no one is around, it is love beyond anything

I have ever seen with my green eyes.

 

At night, he has his beer and whiskey with her,

catching up on all the days gone by information

until dawn, he caresses her, fingers massaging her destination,

he glows in her light, mesmerized, deaf to the world and

it is not until he cannot keep his eyes on her any longer

that he retreats to bed with me, already fast asleep from boredom.

 

One day, I will have moved out and she will

have been replaced by a newer and faster model

brighter, more engaging and she will know what it’s

like to be cast under the bed and forgotten, aching for touch,

longing for a gesture or look from the corner of his eye,

hating whatever it is the next one has that is so much better

to offer too.

Reviews

[Radacach]

Such a great poem! So true and sad that we can get so obsessed with technology that we leave our friends and loved ones behind until they leave us!