Poem Hunter


picture frames, my CD player, plates & silverware
there is nothing in this room she has not touched; her fingerprints are everywhere -
even the extra pillow on my bed
still has the soft bruise left by her head -
she’s gone without a kiss or a slam of the door...
this apartment will not be disturbed by her anymore
my body my lips my face my hair;
the shattered scattered pieces of my heart:

her fingerprints are everywhere
her fingerprints are everywhere

User Rating: 3,7 / 5 ( 36 votes ) 5

Comments (5)

well done piece, I too liked the bruised pillow line, and the first line as well. very touching Trish
another powerful piece Jake, the line that got me was about the bruised pillow that is just sublime, there is real longing in this peice, yet it does not ask for pity nor sympathy, it just tells it as it is. The repeating of the last two lines also worked a treat, almost an echo of your thoughts........ great work Jake
If I could set this to a slow unfolding, Sinatra alone would do it justice.. or Nat King Cole.. and I'd be a proud man. Maybe cut the first line for impact, or transpose it to later...yeah, a proud man.
Hassleman....haunting and sexy at the same time. A very raw and lovely poem. xxxx Adrienne
Excellent poem. Nice to read about loss from a man's point of view. Too often we women think we're the only ones who feel the void. Warmest regards, CJ