Biography of James McLain
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 ninth day of the ninty ninth month, nine thousand nine hundred ninty ninth year.
Case Number: 89-14869
It is sad that I had to, to keep from being raped in prison and like most whom are tortured will of course say anything to make the pain stop.
I am a progressive red neck, lovely are such
people the other's, that sadly have not.
I enjoy creating poetry and writing on everything about you, I have learned through the fire, what one can.
I used to like trying to write the law, but a few of the laws concerning myself have changed so often that as those same laws helped create such panic and fear, my head trauma are thus in hearts of family in part, that I will not make mention of small lives irretrievably broken, then obviously; so then, it can not be a law.
Laws are meant to protect the vulnerable not destroy, it is that my unlearned opinion.
When of that it was written to cause such wide spread presumption of fear, when it never appeared, then it's
your mind they have numbed, and theirs is not yours it is then off and again of.
Thus It concerns you the U.S. we the all.
Kick them out, you can vote, I dislike cowards whom hide behind others to get what they want.
Applied force under any pretense is simple coercion to obtain one's an end, breaking U.S. down for their profits made thus is immoral to U.S. aren't we all?
Under any application when one person knows and the other one doesn't.
When wrong is to you done they think right.
That when discerned by the wise is the law of the land.
Wasted mind's that could do, now can not.
Verily when once,
I liked speaking on many subjects, subjectively, such as politics and real life experiences including the horrors I’ve seen that have happened to myself and others.
I will try to speak of things most are afraid to and may even loose their job. Forensic psychiatrists can be paid to say whatever you want. Life to me seems like one long experiment, although the ocean helps the journey, as I love to swim and explore the sea life, catch & eat most often, is yours a saw cutting interesting?
I feel the arts are important and history. What little I know I have taught myself through Moore books that my friend and his wife bought hoping that I.
Editing and punctuation can sometimes be my weak points, depending on how you read it, I just lovenly love to, just because I must and some like her understand this because you write as well, deep as it is that you find you are and I know you now Grace is lined flowing as rivers of ink even deeper.
The sciences are more than Steven Hawkins...isn't he then more than star dust and still is likend to U.S. that he is.
Forever being less than one thought more of when beings facing the sea, faced the stars.
If some of what I say makes your ears burn, do not run away, and know that I know you still are, and can’t even try turning away, smile. Though if words like the tree hides the moon when love and green the bush…concealed in white clouds…causes you harm, you may need to seek out the professional, country council woman with a PhD. If you think I have traumatized you, be aware that I have no civil rights, which obviously means…To those who think people are just numbers…057512…If you have not figured out your own issues, go in peace. Otherwise, do not hold me back, please pray. I am still Ameri-Can. I would beg your pardon, and try and try and try. What is it like to vote…Do you take it for granted?
What is it like to have civil rights, being out for twenty years and still can not vote for what's right.
I used to lie when I was younger, I even stole.
I stole a lot, I angered their hearts they all saw.
It is so much simpler now, not having to and yes,
to enjoy the surroundings wherever I go.
Perhaps in the end it’s all that we have, credibility, when lost, then found.
If you wish to help me, the more I can help others.
If you think something may sound better, I'm open to suggestion, just give me a call if you can.
I am still that Ameri-Can like you though now lost.
Is the American dream just a fantasy?
One must keep in their head until it becomes your reality? Are not all things possible to all.
Gather me up unto you, If you are close,
I will come and in coming you called out my name.
I am James.
James McLain Poems
'She' Is As The 'Moon' Light
In beauty she walks by me. and her throaty is so pale. she It is as the moon light. and how i struggle hard and blue vein,
In The End Its
The Stigma Of Mental Illness
Diabetes no problem. Heart disease no problem. Lungs, kidneys, broken bones no problem.
There is no right side being on the wrong side of fear. Orange prison jump suits that we make our own wear treating our own inhumanely that America would kill if not for the money.
I Am So Fat
i am so fat that when i sit you must use both hands to hold them up or at least untill i am seated.
Detached observers, and features withdrawn by fates hand, that scours obscurity.
A Raisin In The Sun
Hot sun how memory fades, it seems half my life, in sand ago it was once so fat, so full two plump, full of vine wet soil.
She Is Afraid, He Is Tired..
She is he, and he is She. The two, now lost, loves heart.
Ebola And The American Health Care Syste...
If I suspected I had contracted sure death, where would I go, where death would not follow me?
Loud smiths of silence and mighty the pen. Mighty swords hence, I am spread as I finish. Slow is the labor, carbon and lead, freed from chains.
America's Human Rights Violations
Each year by the hundreds of thousands America takes the mentally I'll and the young
In all of us rests the screaming voice. The voice of some law not yet written. Born of the dawn sky of subsequent thought not yet bourne out.
Are allowed to feel sad. Perfect girls are sometimes bad. Are allowed to be free deep inside.
There is my fine daughter and wet only their, her father it is from the sister, it is each one each sibling of it, is right their with the brother being milked as well.
C*taking Turns *
Short of wind your breath belies
the dragging of your heal in
dust we trust.
Sweat dried sand to face
scoured fresh blush the
wind has made
Wind lifts my arms to take
from you this gift is