Two decades and ten thousand showers later,
I still find your fingerprints
left in those special places
that you knew just how to touch
so that I’d never forget.
[And I haven’t]
The lies we told each other
in self-defense,
ring hollow to this day.
But we pretended to believe
in an effort to escape those toxic
pools of tears, sweat and cum.
Those loops.
Those whorls.
Those fucking arches of yours
--clawing, cloying--
ache like phantom limbs.
The sum of the parts
was never a whole
and we both know
we are better off now,
but that’s the trouble with ghosts:
they never,
ever
die…
Author notes
"You left your mark on me, too"
-- Alice J. Baldwin
A contest entry
- 6,000 POINTS/6 YEAR ANNIVERSARY BASH Contest #3 by Auburn Sunrise.
2000 points, ended August 22, 27 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
-
i like this its good. it makes me think not many people make me think but you do.
i dont know how you do it but your words just float in my mind and wake up forgoten memories. Thankyou.
-
I need to try and look at this poem objectively, knowing your poetry, and you, as well as I do, and I am sure you value my honesty in this respect. My first impression brings to mind another 'shower' poem (written with an erstwhile earthiness that mirrors yours) by the ever enigmatic Charles Bukowski. I had trouble with that one too, even though I admire it greatly and the two pieces are not about the same things. Both poems conjure up strikingly similar images and both make me feel uncomfortable (this is the second poem in a row of yours that has had that effect on me and leaves all kinds of mixed up emotions vying for space in my psyche). The most persistent feeling is that of looking through the wrong end of a telescope; I feel almost like a voyeur, as if your words are too private, and too personal.
Saying that, I cannot deny your talent and skill as a wordsmith. So many pomes/poets on this site leave me yawing and cold with that 'yeah, yeah' feeling of wanting to move swiftly on. At least I can never say that about your poetry. I come back again and again - sometimes tripping over in my haste to comment, and other times totally lost for words. Or perhaps I am just a coward and can't face the stark reality your (excellent) poetry provokes. There is a candor and an unrefined quality to this piece that pokes a bony finger at my protective outer layer and leaves me squirming...
Other than that, I don't know what else to say. I can't really comment on the quote because it feels a little too cliched to me, although you took it and ran with it producing a solid piece of poetry as a result.
"The stroke of midnight ceases, And I lie down alone" - AE Houseman
Strange how often some people miss the point...
~ c♥
-
crafted like the mass chronological creature you are, man! do you think ghosts know how to run chain saw?
-
-
I don't know. Was Leatherface a ghost?
-
-
not sure who Leatherface is, but i'm sure he's ghostly and was probably a lumberjack at some point in life.
-
-
You've never seen Texas Chainsaw Massacre?
-
-
-
-
Why is it that everything I read by you gives me an unnerving sense of deja vu? It strikes a chord all too familiar - it's like hearing a new song but getting that eerie sense that you know exactly what the next verse is going to be.
That was a brilliant take on that prompt. It's perfect, really.
The original poem I took that quote from was all about how we leave these permanent little reminders in each other's lives (my own poem and I can't remember the damn title - how about that? lol)
I like how you got a little dirty with this: even used "fucking"! Hell yes!
Ten thousand showers later... yeah I know that feeling.
This is awesome, Jim. Absolutely AWESOME!
So glad to see you back around here and writing again!
Adding your comment:
1 - 7 of 7
