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James McLain
James McLain
[is It poetry] (1958 - / From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By)
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James McLain Poems
- She Is Afraid, He Is Tired.. She is he, and he is She. The...
- It Is Hard B...
- ...............My Enigma You ask me what am I thinking when I...
- through The Old Oak Tree A stream flowing through the ...
- ' My Heart Is Heavy' From the center of my heart, your many ...
- I Want 'Too Die' A Simple Deat... i want too die a simple ...
- She Is Afraid, It Is Tired. Wherever you are.. It ...
Being from Tampa Florida,
and I know now that all of you can.
I am James McLain, whom writes under the Pseudonym
of is it poetry
For my daughter Caroline and like some of you
and being tall and true it is such.
The tree a bush, and all those other lovely southern words,
we each and each is us, we make and still of thought we use and think when making sufferance to the other.
Thus each being we meet, each day and my/your could this be and day and day not the dark it is not.
Will you confess to a crime you did not do?
Two life sentences and thirty year's all running consecutive.
With my release date then being the ninty ... more »
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Quotations
more quotations »-
''Half
is it poetry
of something
is better than all of
nothing.''
-
''When love
is it poetry
becomes enduring
then people
will know peace.''
-
''A rose is not a rose until it bloom's.''
is it poetry
-
''Hot wood,
Green
filled with moisture
can be bent,
to the needs of
the people.''
-
''Writing
is it poetry
and never reading
is the same as
talking
and never listening.''
She Is Afraid, He Is Tired..
She is he,
and he is She.
The two,
now lost, loves heart.
And bright,
the yellow sun.
You once we're two,
as one,
and ran around the world.
Inside both heads.
He fell inside loves fire.
And she,
his red heart pumping burned
Both fires,
burned ice cold hot.
Within Her,
light did give U.S. form.
Over shadows love,
swept out black coals.
Your smile, twin lips.
He kissed, both miss.
His face, from that.
Bright coals, still hiss.
Now alone again,
he walks into.
Loves,
loving ...
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Agree with your thoughts.
This poem is astonishingly beautiful conveying unseen worlds and with utmost delicacy.
Forgive the intrusion but I have changed (not the words) but a few very minor spelling or typos type of mistakes.
This poem is incredible and flows in and out of dreams so that you even forget the language, arcing beyond life to afterlife. It is remarkable.
To The Blind Their Dreaming
Before I was blind there were dreams.
But seeing my dreams
before I could see, depended
on how much you could really see.
Blind before birth,
and what you have asked of me.
Having my, our, hearing dreams-
your perception
is sound, sound that is seen;
left more unsaid about me.
I still see to see in my dreams
as one
where I'm still alive.
What they must contain,
the colors within.
and sound, I can feel: taste
and touch.
To remember one dream
that one special dream, I still dream
when awake I can see,
when my wife I first met
and how she will look forever.
excellent poems. you are great in explaining your feels. i invite you to read my poem
excellent poem, I believed I walked those woods with you
It's an honor that you read my work thank you so much. I hope you read more and that you like it.
Great Poems All Round. And Thankyou For Your
Positive Feedback On My Poetry. Cheers, Chris.
You are amazing. I thank you for existing. I live in a glass house and am unable to write the truth as you do. One day... :)
hmn...top 49 poet....an honor i had a chance to be read by you....salute to you!
Nice. Reactive attachment disorder, symbolizes a severe psychological syndrome that starts developing in a child during his age of the infancy.
http: //www.disorderscentral.com/reactive-attachment-disorder.html
now it dawns on me,
u have the boldness and spontaneity of Kerouac
i salute u for that