James McLain

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

James McLain Poems

121. Listen Pet Dog 12/15/2008
122. Your River Of Life 12/15/2008
123. You Protest Not 12/15/2008
124. Why The Rush 12/15/2008
125. Flaming Love In* Passion 12/15/2008
126. Read It All* -Have You 12/16/2008
127. Glass Made Of Sand 12/16/2008
128. Mighty Inch Worm 12/16/2008
129. A Sparrow Shirped* 12/16/2008
130. Willow Is My Tree 12/16/2008
131. I Gave An Elephant A Peanut 12/16/2008
132. Sniveling Heights... :) 12/16/2008
133. My Sister Ask Me (Humor) 12/16/2008
134. Treason 12/16/2008
135. Hunters Of Words 12/16/2008
136. What Do You Think 12/16/2008
137. When Dawn Came 12/16/2008
138. Then Came Day 12/16/2008
139. Apology To Dad 12/17/2008
140. Calm 12/17/2008
141. For She Whom Perpetually Sings 12/17/2008
142. Giving First 12/17/2008
143. Many I Am 12/17/2008
144. Walking On Sun 12/17/2008
145. Your Drawers 12/17/2008
146. Smell 12/17/2008
147. Of You 12/17/2008
148. And I Drink From Them 12/17/2008
149. Fleeing To The Sun 12/17/2008
150. Jumping Back Into Your Loving Arms 12/17/2008
151. Coincidence 12/17/2008
152. Ocean Vast Vessel 12/17/2008
153. My American Niece The Talker 12/17/2008
154. One Secret From Death 12/17/2008
155. Asleep One Lid Half Open 12/17/2008
156. What Use Of Voice 12/17/2008
157. New Quite 12/17/2008
158. My Birds Beak Fell Off 12/16/2008
159. Parade Roses 12/17/2008
160. Rock Hard Walls 12/17/2008

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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