As promised, here are the remaining poems from Dr. Collins ENG 308 poetry class:
By Christine Lander You do more than I could ask, from notes and assignments to procrastinating before I do my work. For all you do – I spoil you in return. With a cover that fits perfectly and an eye catching background. You have changed the way I do my work. We have been so compatible. I would change nothing about you. And I could not be more satisfied with your assistance.
By Cori Connors Good morning there. We meet again. You came from a sea of lookalike brothers and sisters. But you are special, because you are mine.
All you ask of me is to charge you up once and a while, not much. So I want to take a minute out to thank you. Thank you for bringing me books, and letting me see all my notes at once.
Thanks for letting me poke you and prod you endlessly. Thank you for being the mailman, persistently dinging with emails and notifications. You really are on top of your game, you know that?
I am going to be sad to give you back. It will be with some resistance. But I will do it so that you can be in the hands of another wanting person. So they can appreciate what a hard worker you are.
You little guy, you’ll be great. You really do help me out, Even though sometimes you like to feed me a challenge by throwing me off the Internet or sending me Facebook comments during class, like you just did. I respect you. Sent from my iPad “iPad” By Erica Weiman Dearest iPad, I remember, like yesterday, the day we met. You are sleek, light, edgy, delicate, yet capable of so much. Overwhelmingly so. But don’t take that to heart. Other people may spend some time with you, but I know that you’re mine, even if only for four months’ time.
“Please iPad” By Ronia Daoud how I wish I could avoid you. just for one day, is all I ask. But I can’t resist to push your smooth, glossy button and wake you. I stop and try to turn away but your bright light quickly shines and grabs my eyes; yet again it’s love at, is it now, fiftieth sight? it’s two hours later and at last I kindly beg, “Please iPad” and you worry. Suddenly my fingertips tingle to your free game update request. I smirk and tap you in approval, “Please do, iPad.” “iPad Love Affair” by Veronica Goin You’ve got a skating-rink smooth surface, that my fingers love to trace while you play games, educate me, entertain me. We conduct our clandestine affair at work, on the desk in front of everyone. Everyone looks, but no one sees. I tuck you into bed with me at night, gazing at the movie on your face. Sometimes I fall asleep still looking at you.
“An Unexpected Affair” By Molly Ruslander
Oh, you… you magical thing, you. Mere years ago, who would have thought a thin little screen – barely bigger than a paperback – would come to play such a central role in my life? You bring me my mail, you tell me what to cook for dinner, you yell at me when I’ve given up on my to-do list. My own personal project manager. At least I can control your yelling – I can make you sound like wind chimes, I can make you sound like the roaring surf of a hidden Caribbean cove. I can even silence your petulant nagging so only your vibrations are a reminder of my procrastination. You keep me amused, mindlessly flinging huffy birds at arrogant pigs, weaving my way through darkened cave corridors, or engaging my inner dictionary with crosswords or Scrabble. I resisted you at first, yes, but not for long.