James McLain Poems

Everything and of these certainties,
when one but two relationships.
Reliance thereupon.
The staff and cup of hope.
...

Being Yoked to his of yours is of that.
That, if of this pink eye of the pearl of this your his intelligence.
I must if I can, when you if you can, can you not?
Ask but of this in trust but ask this of you this I must.
...

When I was seventeen.
Like him the world was then.
I did all the rage when I was like him young.
The world was always open, not oppressed.
...

She was talking about
or where they both were going with out this.
Can you get more randomless?
What kind open line is this for conversation?
...

Prefect and the publican.
I am not and you are still.
Hiding in the open, why I am.
Heeding naught,
...

The why of this out wordly angels falling from heavan disorder.
Reaching out to those other worlds
never seen but by they and those whom call too the proffets.
Schizoaffective is this you the person?
...

Death however has one it's final exception.
Leaving us, it leaves us finaly to go.
With that feeling comes homesickness, no worry.
Do you not know, I do not know, but with us to be.
...

Perhaps then be fairness exactly the way,
to other things at first glance,
and, and it is better my request it has now.
There grew thick the sweetest green grass,
...

As for all the fair nuns running I run too their convent.
So it is not, but of why are you troubled?
The room where I Play whose hall is too narrow.
And I play the hermit therein and I am satisfied.
...

Going out with the tide.
Night and day.
The moon hides out there, between each new day.
Love is restricted
...