In the wake
of your absence,
a shadow of warmth
still lingers in OUR
king-size bed
devoid of your weight.
Awakened,
those razor-blade words
you hurled when we parted
repeat and repeat,
voluminous, vile
they surge my bedroom
with turpitude, darkness,
and devious doom.
Today Lisa hosts dVerse Quadrille, our specific form of writing 44-word poem that incorporates a given word, which today is any form of the word “warm”,
November 28, 2022
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Perfect ekphrasticality, BR. Salute!
Ha… i love to find a picture after the poem has been written.
“a shadow of warmth still lingers” is so poignant. It does take some getting used to. And Kahlo’s image fits that hovering ghost of what came at the end. It almost looks like jump ropes on the skeleton. Good song choice also.
It is so dark here, so I had to write a poem about lack of warmth.
I understand.
I’ve always loved that Frida Kahlo painting, Björn, and your quadrille does it full justice. These lines gave me pause for thought:
‘a shadow of warmth
still lingers in OUR
king-size bed
devoid of your weight’
and the alliteration in the second stanza is so fierce and intense.
Thank you… it is dark here so dark poems come easy
It’s dark here too. We’ve had nothing but cloud and fog all day.
what a song your chose to go with your poem. have always loved that one.
your poem does describe how i was when i first heard it.
I could really feel the line, “devoid of your weight,” you capture that dark emptiness so well! 🖤🖤🖤
Wow! a shadow of warmth, that’s a poignant image.
much💜love
I like what you have done with this one dividing it into to contrasting yet singular poem
These words
“voluminous, vile
they surge my bedroom
with turpitude, darkness,
and devious doom.”
I love how they sound when I read them aloud. You’ve painted quite a picture here of love gone wrong.
those razor-blade words
you hurled when we parted
A most frightful dream one can do without. It happens sometimes when the warmth is freely thrown around.
Hank
One can feel the void as darkness fills a room once filled with bodily warmth. Those razor-blade words can hurt like hell.
A once shared bed grown cold…poetic heart ache!
The poem works well with that image… the capitalized OUR is an interesting device that brings home the point.
Can’t say which is worse: the leftover shadow or razor blade scars. Even the title serves as a reminder of vast loneliness. Well-done.
Most things are harder to bear in the dark of winter.
Regret haunts, imprints our context. (K)
Lovely and raw and the beautiful Sinéad sets it off perfectly ❤
“Devious doom” has me thinking. Good combination.
Effective combination of material for a terrific post. Your poem I find filled with palpable anguish of a kind I fear. They say shedding tears is cathartic practice, so thank you—well written
What a perfect match for your words Bjorn.
How beautifully poignant, ending with devious doom. Looking on the bright side, now he gets to roll around as much as he likes on the king size bed.
From warmth it took a sudden ice-cold turn! Fantastic write.
“razor-blade words” are icy and dark. Great photo!