Long before tales of spells
and "royals" out of place,
there was a man
who was more than,
yet took up
no space.
On his head,
he wore no face.
Exquisite taste
was his commonplace.
Neither bird nor beast,
nor insect creepy-crawly
ravaging
based on folly
could deter
the Indeterminate.
He remains
an uncertainty.
Anomaly?
Probably.
But not unique
within the Firmament.
"Follow me," he'd whisper.
We think, "Just the wind."
Others more jittery scoff,
"Nothing there,"
casting doubt on the man,
now grim with despair.
He'd recite favorite passages
only to hear,
"Who is speaking?
Books can't read themselves!
My sanity must be leaking!"
"Am I nothing‽
Not even worth
acknowledgement‽
And you claim
to be insane‽
You‽
When I can see
what can't be said
what more do you do
than turn your head‽
Am I here‽
Am I not‽
What difference does it make‽"
"But what if you're fake?"
"Preposterous‽
Were I a snake
Would not I'd been slain‽"
He'd take offense to such claims.
And so it went,
his errant whispers.
Blessed were the few
not cursed
with soul blisters.
For when you see
the absent man
you may think,
"Absent-minded,"
but you'd be blinded
by what isn't there.
He's never far
from events' horizons,
never fair to the lot
who tries him.
So if you dare,
stare,
my friend,
stare.
And when you meet
the man
who can,
and has,
but doesn't,
then you've just unmet
The Man Who Wasn't.
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DU LIEST GERADE
pitiful ponderings
PoesieOngoing anthology of poems, dialogue, silly musings and excerpts from a forthcoming project currently in the works. Entries are all written either by, about, or from the point-of-view of characters from said project. An ambiguous (ambitious) prologu...
