Never Been Seen.

I am the ghost.
I am the breath of a ghost.
I am a sigh.
I am the blink of an eye.
I am a dream.
See these headlights and tail-lights? –
I am the nothing between.
I am the silence, the siren,
The thought and the theme.
I am the second hand, the minute, the hour.

I am the pencil, the page, the eraser.

I am the space between the bars of the cage.

The flick of the switch, the thread and the days.

I am the laugh at the foot of the grave
I am the grunt at the mouth of the cave.
I am the memory you cannot save.
The sorry that you can’t bear to say.
I am the word never heard,
Or dared mutter.
I am the flame.
And I am the flare.
And I am the gutter.
I am the wave on the rock in the dark.
I am the flint, the strike yet to spark.
I am the shadow.
I am the hare crouched in the meadow
I am the almost caught in the beam…

I’ve been walking all night.

I’ve never been seen.

 

 

 

nickreeves©

[written in response to a call to armsa call to i ams  – from the lovely folk at dVerse]

https://dversepoets.com

 

 

56 thoughts on “Never Been Seen.

      1. Nick, I actually couldn’t believe my eyes with what I saw here. I saw it. It was not an almost, it was a definite. I left my breath at the start of the journey and held onto it throughout.

        “I am the almost caught in the beam…”

        I feel like that too.

        You’re a seriously talented person.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. 🙂 Too (tea double oh) kind, IM&O!

        In fairness, my friend Tony Soap Co. is responsible for the music! However, he did me proud… & hopefully vice versa.

        It is always a pleasure, Rachel
        love xoxo

        Ps. re ‘almost in the beam’… you & me both!

        Like

  1. Nice to meet and read you. This piece has the rambling insights of Walt Whitman, with a little Gary Snyder tossed in. You may be hard to see, but you are also legion.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. quite complex, are you? ha.
    fun. nice use of some end rhyme to keep it moving throughout
    and then the switch at the end, dropping the i am pulls us in

    being seen is so important. it gives credence to all we see in ourselves,
    to know that someone else saw it. i dunno, maybe i read too much,
    but then again i work with teens, and i know how important it is to them
    to be seen.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. …from one rhyme to the next!

      Thanks for your insightful break down, Brian.
      Hm, this teen thing of which you speak…I think I remember.
      Or never grew too far from.

      Cheers.

      Like

  3. I’m so pleased you joined us, Nick, welcome to the Pub. This is a stunning poem. I am particularly fond of ghost stories and poems, of things seen and unseen, and your poem meets all those criteria and more. The opening lines drew me in, hooked me, and I practically danced through the rest of it, smiling. I f you’ve read my second poem at the Pub, you’ll understand why I particularly enjoyed ‘I am the hare crouched in the meadow’.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks awfully, Kim! Very generous of you to say so. In some ways the ghost story is the perfect place for a story, a poem… halfway between reality & the ethereal, don’t you think? On top of this, I love a pub, so we’re suited!

      Intrigued. I’m heading back to the pub to find your 2nd piece!

      (You gotta love a hare in a meadow! Lol)

      xo

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, as ever, Bob! You are very kind & I am very pleased!

      Again, the slightly confusing issue arises – some things take, seemingly forever to craft, whilst others (this one as I recall) arrive almost fully formed!??

      Hope all is good in the naive haircut world.
      xo

      Like

    1. Ha! Thank you, Ron.
      An initial snoop at your blog and I am
      intrigued.

      My favourite time is 13:13
      damn, it’s nearly always (sometimes) – occasionally – 13:13 in my world 🙂

      Thanks.
      x

      Like

  4. I could give you a whole list of list poem that I do not like, but I cannot find this on the list. hmmm. Wonderful. I love the essence of being the empty spaces between the tangible. The space between the bars of the cage, (Stunning and haunting), that evoked Rilke’s panther for me. Sometimes the lids go up and someone will see you, even for just a moment. So glad to see you. Smart tender and true, this that we are never really grasped or seen, we are too fluid, we are a river, shifting, beautiful, perhaps with some power? I dunno. Love this, and well Come Friend.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I tried to respond to a very nice comment you made about my haiku today but wordpress ate your comment before I could do so! Thank you, Nick – and the guys send you a tip of the fedora! 😊💗

        Liked by 1 person

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