James McLain

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

James McLain Poems

2721. Judged To Harshly 5/27/2010
2722. Come Fall Up 5/27/2010
2723. Daughter Given 5/27/2010
2724. My Daughter, 'They Are Here 5/27/2010
2725. Strumming, 'A Tight String 5/27/2010
2726. When Cities Sleep 5/27/2010
2727. Each Sleeping Hill 5/27/2010
2728. A Pulse I Feel 5/27/2010
2729. Eye, A Pulse 5/27/2010
2730. They Must Be Neurotic 5/27/2010
2731. Look Mum, Is It A Shark 5/28/2010
2732. Good Lass 5/28/2010
2733. Robert The Bruce 5/28/2010
2734. By Them, 'I Agreed 5/28/2010
2735. Bully-Er-S 5/28/2010
2736. Phosphorescent Slutgarden 5/28/2010
2737. Clearly, Chronic Alcohol Still In Use 5/28/2010
2738. Doubt Is My Cloud, 'Yet I Rise 5/29/2010
2739. Lisa 5/29/2010
2740. Dark Beauty Of The, 'Green 5/30/2010
2741. Red Sheets Beneath Him 5/31/2010
2742. Her Long Green Dress 5/31/2010
2743. The Ships Mast 5/31/2010
2744. Stephen William Hawking 6/2/2010
2745. Phantoms From Another Wife 6/3/2010
2746. Honey As I Taste It 6/3/2010
2747. Honey When You Come 6/3/2010
2748. Woe Unto Me 6/4/2010
2749. An Hour Is Too Long 6/4/2010
2750. Comes Alive 6/5/2010
2751. Pool Of Speech 6/6/2010
2752. Plural Methods 6/6/2010
2753. Cul De Sac 6/6/2010
2754. Oil 6/6/2010
2755. Sluts 6/6/2010
2756. Lonely Nun 6/7/2010
2757. Leading Him On 6/7/2010
2758. Your Hand 6/7/2010
2759. One Little Boy A Thief 6/8/2010
2760. Open Garden 6/8/2010

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.

[Report Error]