James McLain

Gold Star - 41,654 Points [is It poetry] (1958 - / From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By)

James McLain Poems

3721. The Hand That Rocks The Craddle Pink 12/6/2011
3722. Death Blow 12/6/2011
3723. Healed, The Physician 12/12/2011
3724. The Stars 12/12/2011
3725. Serenade 12/12/2011
3726. And Love Battles Because 12/13/2011
3727. If By Her Lips 12/13/2011
3728. Life Is The Death Blow To Some 12/16/2011
3729. Sea Of Eyes 12/16/2011
3730. Lips And What They Don'T Want You To See 12/17/2011
3731. Fish, Hide Here Beneeth It 12/19/2011
3732. A Visceral And Novel Approach 12/19/2011
3733. Certificate Of Discharge To Bond Agency 12/19/2011
3734. To She Touched Them 12/19/2011
3735. A Lesson In Vengenace 12/22/2011
3736. That On This Day 12/22/2011
3737. On Top Of The World 12/22/2011
3738. Hidden In The Belly Jar 12/22/2011
3739. Can'T Finish 1/1/2012
3740. Her Inheritance 1/1/2012
3741. The Original Key 1/1/2012
3742. Your Hand To, I Tremble 1/1/2012
3743. Narcissi 1/1/2012
3744. Faint Line 1/1/2012
3745. The Quite Baby 1/2/2012
3746. The Girl 1/2/2012
3747. Humid And Tropical 1/2/2012
3748. Pyroclastic Flow 1/2/2012
3749. Liquid Gold 1/2/2012
3750. Hello Morning - Even ' Milking' 1/2/2012
3751. Deep The Apperance Of One Secret 1/3/2012
3752. Sun I Rise To Greet 1/3/2012
3753. Obscure Bus Stop 1/3/2012
3754. She Loves A Massage 1/3/2012
3755. Burning Moon 1/3/2012
3756. Gentled A Hand 11/29/2011
3757. The Iron Gate 11/29/2011
3758. God Of Many Crowns 11/29/2011
3759. Yours, ' I Am Not 11/30/2011
3760. Mixed Light 11/30/2011

Comments about James McLain

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

    Agree with your thoughts.

    28 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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