Wednesday, 18 March 2009


I know you cannot help me, like, I know you are not a real thing.
But you give me so much pleasure, and you give me so much pain.
But, well, YOU don’t give it me at all – do you?

You are the portal between two worlds; you are the zeitgeist of love or despair or...whatever.

You are not even real, you cannot speak, only be spoken through.
You cannot hear, only used to listen.
You have no name, whatever I name you.

It’s impossible to form a friendship through you,
You’re most commonly used to strain relationships; forge boundaries and keep tears at bay.

Inanimate, lifeless, yet so dependent in life.
We cannot live without you
We cannot work, eat, sleep, breathe without you.

When you buzz or beep or whatever it is you do, my heart flutters, my eyes twitch, and my smile stretches wildly across my face.
That is until I read what you have to say, to translate.
Another let down?
Another broken promise?

And one time in a million my telephone will ring, and it will be you, outside my door, making me smile, making me laugh, and it’s all worthwhile.


Anonymous said...

Nice poem Emma! 'Zeitgeist'...i don't know why, but I love that word!

EmStar said...

me too!!!