James McLain

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

James McLain Poems

6521. Ripe Fruit 6/12/2013
6522. Spring Break 3/9/2010
6523. A Clear Plastic Bag 10/25/2009
6524. The Lesson 11/4/2009
6525. Psychology 12/20/2009
6526. Gossips 6/3/2009
6527. Freedom*it*my*soul 12/11/2008
6528. We, Will! Meet...Again.. 5/16/2009
6529. Ethics 3/8/2014
6530. The Eighth Amendment 5/23/2014
6531. Honey Bees A (Haiku) 9/6/2014
6532. The Arborist's (Haiku) 9/29/2014
6533. Self-Sacrifice 6/19/2011
6534. Perfect Girls 7/28/2013
6535. America's Human Rights Violations 11/17/2014
6536. Israel And U.S. 3/20/2015
6537. A Nest Of Roses 7/14/2013
6538. Shadow Girl 10/2/2011
6539. Dew Drops 4/20/2010
6540. Plus You Are Fired Again 4/25/2009
6541. Girly Makeup 5/7/2009
6542. Free Graze * 12/8/2008
6543. I'M Not Superman 8/24/2009
6544. The Harvest Of The Seed 12/11/2009
6545. A Males Prostate Is 'Her' Business Too 11/19/2009
6546. As The Door Slams Shut 11/21/2009
6547. I Had Once A Care 11/8/2009
6548. My Fantasy 11/3/2009
6549. Live In Your Hour 11/1/2009
6550. Torn Between 'Their Worlds' 10/20/2009
6551. Jealousy Is 9/24/2009
6552. Electroconvulsive Therapy 10/6/2009
6553. Let It Be Forgotten 10/11/2009
6554. Sad' 12/14/2009
6555. Just Face It 11/25/2009
6556. Little Girl 'You' Ran Away 12/8/2009
6557. 'God' If 'I' Were 12/27/2009
6558. People, 'Of Heaven 12/24/2009
6559. A Word A Haiti 1/14/2010
6560. One Dry Tear 1/17/2010

Comments about James McLain

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

    Agree with your thoughts.

    27 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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