James McLain

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

James McLain Poems

2041. A Secret Untold 1/10/2010
2042. A House Of Dust 1/10/2010
2043. From The Nipple 1/10/2010
2044. If It's Aching Or Crushed 1/10/2010
2045. What Happy Man 1/11/2010
2046. Behind The Mirror 1/11/2010
2047. Camp E-How-Kee.. 1/11/2010
2048. And A Sneak Thief 1/11/2010
2049. Because It Hurts 1/11/2010
2050. Happy A Song 1/11/2010
2051. De Façon Ou D'Autre 1/11/2010
2052. Dead Drunk 1/11/2010
2053. The Good Frenchwoman 1/11/2010
2054. As French We Travelled 1/11/2010
2055. Seed Of Denial 1/3/2010
2056. A Consciousness 1/3/2010
2057. A Day Comes 1/4/2010
2058. Les Enfants Du Jour Deux 1/4/2010
2059. Lest You Forget Me 1/4/2010
2060. A Visceral Reaction 1/4/2010
2061. An Assumption 1/4/2010
2062. 'More Than My Heart' 1/5/2010
2063. 'Never Did You Know' 1/5/2010
2064. Woman Of Goth 1/12/2010
2065. An Incalculable Secrecy 1/12/2010
2066. Avocados And Rain 1/12/2010
2067. You But Watch The Sun 1/12/2010
2068. In A Snow Bank-Forgotten 1/12/2010
2069. My Language 1/12/2010
2070. Baby Blue 1/13/2010
2071. White Silence 1/13/2010
2072. To Want To Be 1/13/2010
2073. If I Say Yes Too.. Ramona 1/13/2010
2074. Sign Above The Door 1/13/2010
2075. Seize The Bed 1/13/2010
2076. Snowflakes 1/13/2010
2077. Never Become Insane 1/14/2010
2078. Darning Fruit Garlands 1/14/2010
2079. Before A Rising Sun 1/14/2010
2080. What If 'I' Say 'Yes' 1/14/2010

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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