Shower song

Gold cherry
Poem of the week
Pick of the Month

By queen beatle

Mon, 09 Dec 2024
  • 1345 reads
9 comments
 

Is that you, whispering

in the walls again?

Yes; your smile travels

despite the roaring water.

 

I scrub off the grease

slather on more and cringe

at the sounds around me:

 

 

the shick, shick of razor

on soaped thigh

 

 

the feet, slap-slapping

on salivating tiles

 

 

the strain in the throat

from singing along.

 

 

I play the music louder

to shake the walls

that house you

 

but still your smile travels

despite the roaring water.

The splintered window holds

and the neighbours never knock.

Certificate U
Poem
my poems
Miscellaneous

Comments

Submitted by Nolan on

"Yes; your smile travels despite the roaring water.but still your smile travels and the neighbours never knock" I play the music louder to shake the walls that house you" this I think is the essence of yoour poem. A smile at the right time has saved many lives.

The hardest smile to fake must be a fake, fake smile, in secret.

All the best! Nolan

 

Submitted by Ewan on

  Darkly unsettling, far from obvious, and pregnant with meaning: that's why this excellent poem is our Pick of the Day today.

Please share on social media if you can, fellow ABCTalers.

Author Page at the 'Zon
 

Submitted by airyfairy on

This brilliantly written and very unsettling piece is our Poem of the Week! Congratulations!

Submitted by queen beatle on

Thank you very much!

 

Submitted by celticman on

those walls keep tumbliing down. 

 

Submitted by Yutka on

I love all the insinuations, the sense of the noise around, the whole layout of your poem and of course, "the neighbours never knock"....

yutka

 

 

Submitted by queen beatle on

Thank you, I appreciate your feedback!

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

This is our Poem of the Month - Congratulations!

 

Submitted by Caldwell on

When we are at our most naked and vulnerable, surrounded by things that cut - razors and broken glass, with a strain in the throat - was that singing or screaming? And this grease, so slippery on tiles... there's a precipice here. I wonder if the neighbours have any idea at all? Probably not.