the face

 

The face

A face he has seen somewhere.

A face without a nametag,

Waves of memory’s ocean

Becomes unruly in vain.

Some faces do not have names.

He surveys its known features,

He knows that he knows it close.

A face he has seen somewhere.

 

In a bus of public assembly?

In a tube to underworld?

In a road with shadows to whisper?

In a place of toiling sunshine?

In a distant island of blue dream?

In a memory beyond a life?

 

 A face he has seen somewhere.

Closely and within whispers.

His sad finger’s grave touch on

The forehead of it lingers.

A touch that defies vagueness

You know you know you know it.

 

Has he seen it in a mirror?

Reviews

[[untitled]]

Very deep yet conjuring great imagery ... I could see your persona's hand reaching towards, to touch the face with his fingers as it whisps away from your mind's eye. I really like this...Gentle and yet so powerful. Very nice. Best wishes, Pammy.

[~crazy Beautiful~]

wow stunning imagery
i love the ending
nice work
thank you for entering my contest

[lori c]

was not expecting it to be 'his face' -- nicely turned. a real sense of otherworldliness in this writing; deja vu; and yet a reality we all have dealt with from time to time as we look at our faces on those days when they catch us unaware. good write.

[The Musings of Mary H.]

The poem make me question what face you're looking for and a desire to know a little more about the face. Lo and behold, it is your face you see everywhere! Very thought-provoking! A wonderful write!

Mary

[Blackbirdsong]

I really love the atmosphere you create in your work. There is an almost other worldly feel that is quite captivating. The idea of someone not being able to recognize themselves and wondering who they are seeing is quite a haunting one. Makes me wonder why. I'm glad that you don't reveal more than you do here.

[Imperfection]

What a brilliant poem!

I wasn't expecting the ending to be such. But I have felt that way...perhaps, only once or maybe twice in my life but that moment had left me wondering - can I claim to know the person living under my skin?

And the answer was, sadly no.
Sometimes we seem like a stranger to ourselves because we haven't made the effort to know ourselves, which is what seems to be the story here. But there are times when our out-of-character behaviour surprises us.

This is a complex feeling, not a very rare occurrence, though.
I must commend you on the way you've expressed it here.

[deepoet]

this is great....

[King James]

This is a nice poem, its seems as though the person is lost and trying to trace back his steps.... NIce job!

[Rain]

I loved this piece. It's odd, that amongst all our friends, our face is least seen. This write left me with a eerie feel. I can't explain it, but it had a deeper meaning the second time I read it. I love pieces like this. Rain.