Scarred Walls (For Talissa & Ivor)

Illustration by Poet Rummager

Memories of you and me in this room.

Did the walls bear witness to every whisper, every moan?

Secrets in hearts forever entombed in pulsating chambers.

Our lies inscribed on scarred walls of crumbling plaster.

I touch the flakes of peeling paint.

Like frail promises, they disintegrate.

Press your ears to these walls.

Do you yet hear the faint pulse?

This poem was inspired by a conversation I had with my friend, Ivor.
Visit his poetry by clicking HERE!

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  1. No, sound, so I used my stethoscope, and heard plenty of moans and groans within the poems walls. I loved Two outstanding lines, “Our lies inscribed on scarred walls of crumbling plaster” , and “Like frail promises, they disintegrate”… and your colourful picture is so fitting, a wall inside the bleeding heart !!

    Liked by 3 people

      • Hehe, I really do own a stethoscope, and I use it to listen to the walls, trying to locate a leaking pipe…… clients think I’m funny when I come with the stethoscope hanging around my neck……. Doctor Ivor, Plumber/Poet……..

        Liked by 1 person

        • Lol. Dr. Ivor! That’s cute. I can see where a stethoscope comes in handy for your line of work. You should also bring your poetry in case you run into some lovely single women! 😁


  2. The sound worked for me, Rose.
    I loved, “I touch the flakes of peeling paint.
    Like frail promises, they disintegrate.”
    I can see this room with peeling paint, but I also thought of Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart.” 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Your words are beautiful, more than beautiful but I can’t find a stronger word, I’m at a loss right now. If you traveled the rainbow to the pot of gold, these words would be the gold in that pot.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Love it! Sensual and melancholy it’s interesting to me that this particular poem evokes an emotional memory in me. Hard to explain but I feel it.

    Well done poetess!

    Liked by 3 people

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