James McLain

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

James McLain Poems

3721. Why Can'T I Grow Ripe Juicy Tomatoes 12/5/2011
3722. Haiku...The Quite Baby 12/6/2011
3723. The Hand That Rocks The Craddle Pink 12/6/2011
3724. Death Blow 12/6/2011
3725. Healed, The Physician 12/12/2011
3726. The Stars 12/12/2011
3727. Serenade 12/12/2011
3728. And Love Battles Because 12/13/2011
3729. If By Her Lips 12/13/2011
3730. Life Is The Death Blow To Some 12/16/2011
3731. Sea Of Eyes 12/16/2011
3732. Lips And What They Don'T Want You To See 12/17/2011
3733. Fish, Hide Here Beneeth It 12/19/2011
3734. A Visceral And Novel Approach 12/19/2011
3735. Certificate Of Discharge To Bond Agency 12/19/2011
3736. To She Touched Them 12/19/2011
3737. A Lesson In Vengenace 12/22/2011
3738. That On This Day 12/22/2011
3739. On Top Of The World 12/22/2011
3740. Hidden In The Belly Jar 12/22/2011
3741. Can'T Finish 1/1/2012
3742. Her Inheritance 1/1/2012
3743. The Original Key 1/1/2012
3744. Your Hand To, I Tremble 1/1/2012
3745. Narcissi 1/1/2012
3746. Faint Line 1/1/2012
3747. The Quite Baby 1/2/2012
3748. The Girl 1/2/2012
3749. Humid And Tropical 1/2/2012
3750. Pyroclastic Flow 1/2/2012
3751. Liquid Gold 1/2/2012
3752. Hello Morning - Even ' Milking' 1/2/2012
3753. Deep The Apperance Of One Secret 1/3/2012
3754. Sun I Rise To Greet 1/3/2012
3755. Obscure Bus Stop 1/3/2012
3756. She Loves A Massage 1/3/2012
3757. Burning Moon 1/3/2012
3758. Gentled A Hand 11/29/2011
3759. The Iron Gate 11/29/2011
3760. God Of Many Crowns 11/29/2011

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..

C*taking Turns *

Short of wind your breath belies
the dragging of your heal in
dust we trust.

Sweat dried sand to face
scoured fresh blush the
wind has made
to know.

Wind lifts my arms to take
from you this gift is
precious so.

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