Emily Bernstein is a young, aspiring poet who is a rising sophomore at Chapman University, where she is getting a BFA in Creative Writing and a minor in Business. She has been published in Ampersand Literary, and can't wait to see where the stars take her next.
Friday, July 31, 2015
Friday Love Poems: Emily Bernstein!
Happy Friday, dears! Feel free to send me love poems at any time! Here's how: http://theserotoninfactory.blogspot.com/2015/07/call-for-submissions-friday-love-poems.html
This week I welcome a new friend, a girl who gets as emo about gadgets as I do:
Ode to my 2007 MacBook
By Emily Bernstein
Processor like an ’88 Ford, what have you not taught me
– when the Hepburns were born, how to cut a
mango, where to call for help? O the months you’ve seen
with me – the rebellious ones, the months of the rabbit,
the first heartbreak, and the multiple obsessions of public figures –
stories, and all my first lines shared, the final ones, too,
like bottled blondes who are making it big now but will
just be girls of failure parents in five years.
Miley Cyrus was innocent when you were still actually
white and I first carried you home from school like a
new baby from the hospital. Remember the months we
sang along to Broadway musicals top notch?
Those were simpler times. Sometimes, all I thought about
was lugging you up the hill and watching the sunset and
not going home. Would you make it through a thunderstorm?
What would life be like if I actually liked lightning? I had
forgotten what home meant. Thank God, I remembered.
That saved us both. We were young together. It’s different now.
You’ve seen poetry with me – the good and the bad, you’ve
end of with streams of movies and music.
I would have missed so many summers without you –
the beaches, books full of love and murder, naps covered in
green blankets, and rainforests full of adventure –
through the window I’ve seen day in, day out. How many pages
of novels have I thrown into the garbage from you?
How did the memory of Grandma get into your background?
Why do I have to grow up, and why are we slowly dying,
with you going faster, your lights getting dimmer night by night?
With you, we could go anywhere. I’ll pull the reins,
you can blast the theme song, we can streak along the stony atmosphere,
the dreams of some toddler in too small pajamas,
who knows exactly what is for breakfast tomorrow.