James McLain

Gold Star - 41,704 Points [is It poetry] (1958 - / From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By)

James McLain Poems

561. Thinking Conscience Thought 4/2/2009
562. Others 4/2/2009
563. It Is A Desolate Wave 4/2/2009
564. Disguised 4/2/2009
565. Moons Crown 4/2/2009
566. Bandaid Love 4/2/2009
567. Loves Breath 4/2/2009
568. My Mind 4/2/2009
569. Peanuts 4/2/2009
570. Punished 4/2/2009
571. Presents 4/2/2009
572. Barren 4/2/2009
573. Your Issues 4/3/2009
574. For You To 4/3/2009
575. Your First Step 4/3/2009
576. Wife I Wept Because Of You 4/4/2009
577. Poo Stones 4/4/2009
578. Teacher 4/4/2009
579. Her Fearful Hand 4/4/2009
580. Yellow Flower 4/4/2009
581. Beneath Tan Skin 4/4/2009
582. My Second Small Attempt At Suicide 4/4/2009
583. Little Split For Butterfly 4/4/2009
584. It Is Always Smiling At You Also 4/6/2009
585. It Is Dreamt 4/6/2009
586. It Is Between Her Cold Glass Thighs 4/6/2009
587. It Is Freedom 4/6/2009
588. It Is Oueightonetwo 4/6/2009
589. Wind Becomes Noise 4/6/2009
590. It Is Memory In Solitude 4/6/2009
591. Passion Lost On Floor 4/6/2009
592. It(S Run Out Of Words) It(S Lovingly 4/6/2009
593. Look Into The Sun 4/6/2009
594. Heart Heavy Ant 4/6/2009
595. It Is Only Size When It Is Relevant 4/6/2009
596. Mismaster 4/3/2009
597. Poo Queen Runs Throne) ..Royal Humor...( 4/3/2009
598. My True Love 4/3/2009
599. After The Humility Fades 4/3/2009
600. My Advice 4/3/2009

Comments about James McLain

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

    Agree with your thoughts.

    28 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..

Heart In Oak *

Such as does repose
fine grain.

Polished surface gained
thus by feel.

Soul of a giant
lays within.

Bowing Gently
in the breeze.

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