James McLain

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

James McLain Poems

2521. Summer Of The Unlocked Door 4/6/2010
2522. More Of The Egg 4/8/2010
2523. To The Woman 4/8/2010
2524. Be A River 4/8/2010
2525. Upon Your Head 4/9/2010
2526. Love But Could I 4/9/2010
2527. The Ice Weeps Water 4/9/2010
2528. The Scream Of The Wind 4/10/2010
2529. Can I Not Be 4/10/2010
2530. Milk Nurses The Nurse, It Nurses 4/10/2010
2531. By The Waters Edge 4/10/2010
2532. 'Hope' 4/11/2010
2533. Bleeding Parts 4/11/2010
2534. Your Tears How They Burn Me 4/11/2010
2535. Hollywood And Vine 4/11/2010
2536. I Have You 4/6/2010
2537. On The Edge Of Our Camp 4/6/2010
2538. Death A Clock Stopped 4/7/2010
2539. Imitate Me 4/12/2010
2540. Promontory 4/12/2010
2541. Once Only You 4/12/2010
2542. Springs Between Her Tulips 4/12/2010
2543. This Work Of Art 4/12/2010
2544. Our Sun Rise 4/14/2010
2545. Warm Glass Of Milk 4/14/2010
2546. Who Sex Changes 4/14/2010
2547. Strong Woman 4/14/2010
2548. Friday We Had Smile Problems 4/15/2010
2549. ................... Is It Not For The Child 4/15/2010
2550. I Had Withstood 4/15/2010
2551. The Girl And The Boy 4/15/2010
2552. Blue Waves 4/15/2010
2553. C.P.R. 4/15/2010
2554. Still Sleeping 4/16/2010
2555. Every 'Woman' I See, Who Does This, It Can'T But Help Her Moore 4/16/2010
2556. That's A Poem 4/16/2010
2557. Colors Varied 4/16/2010
2558. She Extended His Arm 4/17/2010
2559. The Children Of Governor Crist 4/17/2010
2560. I Make Good Babies 4/17/2010

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..

Face Of The Poor *

Of all our children.
Dirt scuffed face America has some.
Late night Sally Struthers infomercial.
Compassion of the old in their time of need.
Helping in the wide open homeless shelter.
Bread from their mouths for the young.
Picture the views.
You helped to make.
Words stir the pot of no news.

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