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Hidden

by Richard Vince

Painting yourself as you wish to be
In all those wistful words, you hide
The real you behind trembling hands
That only partially cover your face,
Giving a tantalising hint of who you are.

I see beauty, but I cannot stop
Visualising your eyes as those of
A ghost: wild yet unmoving,
Empty yet baleful. They are eyes
I imagine always being turned to face
The ground, or your feet, or paper.

So many things I want to tell you
Clamour for attention in my mind,
But I know I could never convince you
To believe me. How can I know what
I have not seen?

With every tick of the clock,
My fascination has grown, and
My speculation has grown with it.
My imagination is doomed to veer
Further from reality since I cannot
Know enough to fill the gaps.

So I try to learn you from your
Carefully chosen words, through
Characters created of you, and
From almost unrecognisable pictures,
Even though I know I will
Never succeed.

12/09/2007

Posted on 12/09/2007
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Laura Doom on 12/09/07 at 10:18 PM

...and that success would inevitably bring surcease. Perhaps ironic that this piece exudes a wistful air. Painting...almost unrecognisable pictures - overall a fine example of 'joined-up writing' in its literary sense :)

Posted by Erin Jones on 12/10/07 at 04:59 AM

A beautiful poem. So amazing. I love it. So full of longing. "Visualising your eyes as those of/A ghost: wild yet unmoving,/Empty yet baleful." I love those lines. It's amazing. Keep up the good work. :)

Posted by Alison McKenzie on 12/10/07 at 07:07 AM

Your observations of this person create their own mystery, and the effect is haunting. And, there seems to be an nonspecifically expressed ache that creates a longing of its own, a beauty rare that most might pass over. So wonderful.

Posted by Anita Mac on 12/11/07 at 05:19 AM

I think the general concensus is that we women love your poem... And rightly so, I feel, but then I would, as one of 'we women'... It is quite a beautiful longing.

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