James McLain

Gold Star - 41,305 Points [is It poetry] (1958 - / From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By)

James McLain Poems

5921. All You See 1/20/2009
5922. Thick Or Thin 12/23/2008
5923. Friends We Have Not Met 12/22/2008
5924. My Blackwidow 12/21/2008
5925. Memphis In You 12/20/2008
5926. Voids Sleep In Rapture 12/18/2008
5927. Mothers Memory 12/14/2008
5928. Fragile * 12/10/2008
5929. That Voice In Your Head 12/13/2008
5930. Teachers 12/12/2008
5931. How Long Have You Known 12/11/2008
5932. My Head Is Your Head * 12/9/2008
5933. Dreams-Dreams Falling 2/6/2014
5934. Short Four Lines 2/7/2014
5935. Dreams-Flying Dreams 2/6/2014
5936. Ode To Caroline 2/14/2014
5937. Vision - Execution = Hallucinations 12/22/2013
5938. Perfect Vagina 12/28/2013
5939. Death In Battle 7/3/2013
5940. Sea Magic Words 7/14/2013
5941. Robert Louis Stevenson 7/15/2013
5942. The Magic Box 7/16/2013
5943. Anthony Wiener 7/25/2013
5944. Treatment-Resistant Depression 4/16/2012
5945. Shear Negleck Of Some I Do 4/30/2012
5946. Lance Armstrong 1/18/2013
5947. No More Sorrow 5/10/2013
5948. The First Time I Was Raped In Prison It Was Not The Last 4/27/2013
5949. The Sea It Calls 4/27/2013
5950. Children Wishing 6/22/2013
5951. Exile 7/7/2013
5952. Depths Of The Sea 5/3/2011
5953. The Red Scarf 5/2/2011
5954. My Sister, Her Moon 4/30/2011
5955. Being Honest 5/12/2011
5956. Trinity To Love 5/22/2011
5957. Dearest Of All Your Dear's 6/23/2011
5958. Bruised Avocado 6/22/2011
5959. Making Butter 7/27/2011
5960. Tell All The Truth But Tell It Slant 8/16/2011

Comments about James McLain

  • Carol Carter Carol Carter (2/4/2015 12:12:00 AM)

    Agree with your thoughts.

    26 person liked.
    24 person did not like.
  • Mary Angela Douglas Mary Angela Douglas (10/10/2014 1:05:00 PM)

    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.

  • Amir Mohammad Islami Chalandar (6/6/2014 7:18:00 AM)

    excellent poems. you are great in explaining your feels. i invite you to read my poem

  • Richard Beevor (5/8/2014 4:20:00 AM)

    excellent poem, I believed I walked those woods with you

  • Kera Ann Kera Ann (11/22/2013 11:08:00 AM)

    It's an honor that you read my work thank you so much. I hope you read more and that you like it.

  • Chris Leermakers Chris Leermakers (4/22/2013 6:38:00 PM)

    Great Poems All Round. And Thankyou For Your
    Positive Feedback On My Poetry. Cheers, Chris.

  • This Is Not A Poem (9/7/2011 10:04:00 PM)

    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... :)

  • Inner Whispers (9/4/2011 7:02:00 PM)

    hmn...top 49 poet....an honor i had a chance to be read by you....salute to you!

  • Alisha Lopej (4/28/2011 1:10:00 AM)

    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

  • Liyo Denorte (5/13/2010 10:35:00 AM)

    now it dawns on me,
    u have the boldness and spontaneity of Kerouac

    i salute u for that

Best Poem of James McLain

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 ...

Read the full of She Is Afraid, He Is Tired..

Lid To My Box *

Round beveled square to a frame
bearing hues fading of dreams
maker in such crafted long ago
for whom but a guess many
names but few for the
wearer of the seal meant for me
not for you.

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