Survivors

Survivors

Sunday, January 17, 2016

Ghosts


©  2016 Steve King
All rights reserved


I can’t believe in ghosts—
at all.

Not me.

That sound I hear
is just the ancient clock
crying out cruel hours
and a cache of ruined days;
vagrant seconds spilling
on the threshold of that dark hallway.

I would say
I’ve never seen a ghost.
Strange fancies fall away
at will before my gaze—
as if undone by magic;
that is, if I believed in magic,
if it were allowable
beyond the issuance of dreams,
although each dream itself might seem as real.

I have never felt a ghost, nohow.
That breeze upon my neck
is from the unthought open window
beckoning strange airs
through all the attic maze,
up and down the shadowed stairs
and settling here, easy as can be,
close within this dusty window seat.

I have never held a ghost,
though I have tried:
the semblance of a memory,
husks of undone wishes,
rustling through all useful life,
endowing form to shades of other days.
But seldom in my ready moods
have spirits ever lingered to obey.

Yes, I have paused for many things
as they have come my way.
Most kinds of things, okay…
but never once an honest ghost.

Nope
Not me. 
Not ever nowadays.


A new poem for Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads
http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/

13 comments:

  1. Oh, how I enjoy your writing, your nuances and turn of rhyme, as in:
    "That breeze upon my neck
    is from the unthought open window
    beckoning strange airs
    through all the attic maze,
    up and down the shadowed stairs"
    No, I've never held a ghost either, although the "ghosts of memories past" have come back for a visit now and again. Nice to catch this poem, Steve.

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  2. This is just wonderful... don't we all prefer in the end not to be in the presence of ghosts... but yet ... we carry them within, don't we? i think i meet the ghosts in dreams.

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  3. I have never held a ghost,
    though I have tried:
    the semblance of a memory,
    husks of undone wishes...

    These lines really brought your subject home to me.

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  4. what a talent!
    i think this is my first time here, glad to make your acquaintance. :)
    i actually have seen a ghost, or what is referred to as 'shadow people.' twice i awoke to this thing watching me sleep!
    ghosts are probably a lot like magic, they only show up if we believe they can.
    excellent and detailed write.

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  5. I have never held a ghost,
    though I have tried:
    the semblance of a memory,
    husks of undone wishes,

    I have tried to hold on to a ghost...I found my arms felt even more empty. Beautifully written

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  6. There's a conversation here between the rational and the wild, tossing the poem's ghostly hot potato back and forth. "I have never felt a ghost, nohow" stumbles on the banana peel of "That breeze upon my neck / is from the unthought open window / beckoning strange airs / through all the attic maze ..." Things that are yet cannot be are where poets see the deepest, for we are readers of the insides of insides. Well done.

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  7. This is such a wonderful poem. I was going to say that I especially liked the last three stanzas, but then was rereading it a few more times, and felt that was unfair as I really like the first few stanzas as well--the emphasis on the clock in the beginning and especially the vagrant seconds spilling out on the stairwell--sorry if I don't have that right-- but the poem does become more conversational at the end in a quite marvelous way--with the very strong sense of the wish for, or the past contact, with some other, and there is great wistfulness and longing there, that is very wonderful. Before I forget, I wanted to say I loved your use of shades here - the shades of other days as if the days were themselves ghosts--and the word play/ multiple meanings of the idea of an honest ghost--almost like an honest day's work, or a forthright person who was right there present - many are not even when right there. Anyway, the poem really is terrific--it made me think I post way too quickly simply in a wish for deliverance, I guess, and should work things more. Thanks, Steve--hope all well your way and that the cold not too bitter--am in City now, but hoping to be in mountains soon--k.

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  8. In a 'critique' group I once frequented, I was once criticized rather strongly for daring to use the word 'ghost' in a poem, like the word 'like' apparently to the academically minded, it is amateurish and too cliche for serious words--needless to say I no longer belong to that poetry group(or any poetry group!) This poem doesn't so much feel to me about the supernatural at all--more about the way memory and heart are tried by reality, and given not even a ghost to accompany them in the end. I like my own ghosts, personally, but they are friendly ones. ;_) This is solid work, Steve, and the mix of strong lyric language and down to earth observation provides a beautiful fabric on which to put your ideas on display here. May you stay warm and dream of summer gardens.

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  9. We have ghosts lurking in many instances where it is felt with eerie feelings. It is just that many are not really bothered unless they are alone!

    Hank

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  10. I have felt a ghost and seen a ghost they are very real and walk among us each and every day!

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