James McLain Poems

when the white silk drapes, come open at night,
my whole being, anticipates scenes, that were
forever lost to me, as a child, until she came.
she comes back around,
...

People come to see the tree,
I look down, inside each nut,
I am, outside, looking in within.
The sea of people, are all
...

I watch, listen, her hand
would be my teacher,
her mind, would straighten,
my crooked, lame leg, no
...

When i am bad you still love me, why?
I was only bad to push you away, from my pain.
It is selfish i know, to protect me from you.
You are very smart, smarter than me, dont you see?
...

I tremble at your feet, with your toes..
This foot of grace, to my right, in the sand..
Little tributaries, attest to your loyalty, i would
bath them in salted tears.
...

I look up, into your leaves, like rain washing down
to the sea.
I do not mind, the hard times, i hold still, as dirt and
sticks, dust my face.
...

When you are done, servicing your poem..
You, i am sure hit the little, colorless button, how drab,
should be pink..
The connection takes forever and a day, am i right..first
...

Please, these interrogations must stop,
they make me ill.
Why must you always ask that?
I cannot recall, where they came from.
...

Extends through my body, contained within, blown without,
controlled by a vibrant hued, pink livid hand.
To dangle, on this her spigot, brings her joy, on this for her, for
her only, do i, must i, will i swing..while she sings....
...