James McLain Poems

Is a secret dark place in southern Saint Petersburg.
In a dark cave weary and weak of life some are.
From the streets to here rabid like dog's the one's traumatized
Shake from the noise trapped in a dream most are.
...

Ever since we can remember the static white noise in our head's.
A voice one for each,
Most some here I know now, have more than one or so I think.
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Love, what is love?
Two broken,
Heart's when they are still in love.
Back to back in bed, the silence can be heard.
...

Before my hand strikes the door.
I don't know my mind, Please stop!
Short knuckles white, light flashed.
She will hear me scream, or worse.
...

The portrait of my wife is done
unfinished on the wall.

The tree upon on which she sat
...

Daddy he moved my panties and,
hush child and come here.
Did he do this with his finger,
moving your panties and then with the other finger
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Alone in the moment, I could not watch.
Those leaves
that you see are green and move gently
by the wind on the tree's.
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They do not weigh me down, it is
only the wickedness of others.. sins.
It really frightens me, knowing God
knew, you would confess it to me.
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Powerless, I weave your very, your own web
around your nouns, my verbs turned pro, into.
Puzzled then, your Leaf, it shakes the wind.
I sit on top, envy with green, your back, words.
...