James McLain

Gold Star - 40,958 Points [is It poetry] (1958 - / From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By)

James McLain Poems

6161. When I Swim I Swim To Swim 8/30/2009
6162. Pink Pearl Necklace. 11/15/2009
6163. The 'Happy' Porn Star 12/5/2009
6164. Solitary Confinement 11/17/2009
6165. Private Room 12/21/2009
6166. A Grave Digger 1/5/2010
6167. Dual Diagnosis 6/4/2011
6168. Black A Rose Made From Wood 2/16/2010
6169. Homesickness 11/4/2010
6170. Climbing Trees 7/2/2010
6171. Commerce My Friends 3/12/2010
6172. Evony 3/19/2010
6173. With Your Lips 5/19/2011
6174. Nasty Girl 8/7/2011
6175. Girls Who Are Boy's Who Want Boy's To Be Girls 11/28/2011
6176. Summer Camp 8/31/2011
6177. On The Death Of Your Brother 8/29/2011
6178. The Next Door Room 9/16/2011
6179. Nasty Boy 9/21/2011
6180. Leadership 7/20/2013
6181. ............. Modesty 7/3/2013
6182. Erotic-Asphyxia 12/19/2009
6183. Push And Pull 11/14/2009
6184. Inside The Box 9/30/2009
6185. Sea World 6/18/2009
6186. The, Keyhole 5/8/2009
6187. My Name Is 4/20/2009
6188. The Rim Of Green 3/14/2009
6189. Drama Queen 12/10/2008
6190. Tolerance And Diversity 2/16/2015
6191. Scary Man In The Door Way 8/6/2014
6192. Religion Fanatical 11/29/2014
6193. God, Guns, Grits And Gravy 2/10/2015
6194. A Cloud Turns It's Face To Me 2/12/2015
6195. Teacher's And Student's 10/4/2014
6196. Archeology 10/30/2014
6197. Internet Trolls 10/31/2014
6198. Green Leaves 3/25/2014
6199. Sheriff Grady Judd, Polk County Florida 11/21/2013
6200. Being Strong 7/29/2011

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..

Wildwood # 1

Is a secret dark place in southern Saint Petersburg.
In a dark cave weary and weak of life some are.
From the streets to here rabid like dog's the one's traumatized
Shake from the noise trapped in a dream most are.
Wildwood like an ant hill those at the top want out, we are sausage's
In the hands of a cook slaving day in and day out.
Some time's the noise comes, like a plane crash where like cord wood
The weak succumb to their weakness.
Drug's and alcohol from the mirror the seas are not

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