Faces Without Faces Poem by James McLain

James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

Faces Without Faces



I cannot tell my doctor,
That there is no snow, when
There is snow all around U.S.

Where I live isn't much of a home
Yet, where they'd put me,
Sterile white porcelain floor's
I have now grown afraid of.

Here I have my bags of pills,
Out in the open.
Within reach,
But there would be no place
There to hide them.

This will be lost on the young,
Wasting their life.
Time I have not, I'm not old.

This is not a place for children.
Though once or maybe twice as lives
Have passed it once was.
Here many died, kept in filth,
back before this was Florida
and yet Florida, it is.

I've stitched together a life, a life
Of to many judge's.
A quilt bourne of opinions, but being
bi polar
Was for me the worst opinion of all.
Back in the the seventies
They took damn good advantage of it.

I have had my chances.
I've tossed those dice, those dice
Where on one dice there were only one's
And on the other there were only two's.
I have tried and tried.
In my dream's where other people succeed
Because I made them.

I have tried to over think everything, too hard.
I no longer who I was, I am James
I have tried to be natural to someone else's
Nature, is it poetry.

I have never tried to be blind in love,
like other men I liked small tits,
Dominant in bed, with my dear, sweating sweet one.
Always cheating one eye's open looking,
Watching her go through a thicket of thorn's
dark self imposed,
her handful of moon covered in snow and no another.

I did not look.
I saw in a dream long ago, precognition that
Curse, the curse,
of the cursed without cure those white floor's.

Will my new face be there,
Male or female a witness to, but not of
Without the experience of having sex with one
or the other in one single life being both.

The face of the dead one's, I've seen before
A handful of pills.
Or that quite gas oven, a chair without legs,
Dancing the dance I great poet's have.

It's only an easy peace, were it not for the,
Other faces still there.
And how ever much it is that I know,
coming back to learn more.

Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: green
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
The Hobbler 03 December 2016

You really go deep with this one right down into the depths of your very soul..i can feel sadness and torment in your words from beginning to end. A very elaborate and we'll done piece. I think it's poetry indeed

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James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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