Best Mclain Poems


That Was Rock and Roll

Bill Haley gave us 'Rock Around The Clock'
showed us music in a different way,
Chuck Berry sang 'Johnny B. Goode'
and Buddy Holly said 'That'll Be The Day'.

Elvis went to 'Heartbreak Hotel'
and came back as the king of pop,
Jerry Lee sent us 'Great Balls Of Fire'
while Danny and his group were 'At The Hop'.

The Everly's were saying 'Bye Bye Love'
Bobby Darin was out 'Beyond The Sea',
Little Richard was with 'Long Tall Sally'
and Lloyd Price thought he was 'Stagger Lee'.

Paul Anka introduced us to 'Diana'
Del Shannon told us of his 'Runaway',
Big Bopper talked about 'Chantilly lace'
and the Rolling Stones said love 'Not Fade Away'.

Eddie Cochran took 'Three Steps To Heaven'
Don McLain made 'American Pies',
Roy Orbison was still lost 'In Dreams'
as the Platters sang 'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes'.

When the music began to change
jazz, blues and rock and roll,
got more electronic and louder
became rock, heavy metal and soul.

There are a lot more I could name
but I guess I'll just call them the rest,
It's a long time ago but I'll never forget
Rock and Roll for me was the best.

Man of Character

Ozzie Smith, Yazstremski,

Dave Stieb and Robin Yount

these men were of a special group

It's one I'm proud to count

There's players who achieve a goal

While others just achieve

They set a standard for the rest

In their heart they just believe

The game is full of heroes

Men depended on each game

They all have certain attributes

And we all know them by name

Kaline, Ripken, and Wade Boggs

The Carters, Joe and Gary

They're men who inspire us

They have a reputation tough to carry

To be a man of character

You must be better than the rest

You have to be a leader

If you screw up, you must confess

Baseball doesn't make you one

For character's within

You just learn how to channel it

Bring it out from where it's been

Now, Cobb, Ruth and McLain

Were characters as well

But, not the kind of characters

That we are here to tell

They had a reputation

One that is not lost upon the game

But, to say that they had character

Then you would not speak their names

Tom Seaver and Clemente

Thurmon Munson, Sparky too

Were men who set examples

Of exactly what to do

To build a reputation

One that shows character and heart

Is something time consuming

It's built of many parts

To do the right thing once

Is not the thing I want to see

But to do it right consistently

That defines character to me

There are so many examples

Of players in this group

But there are ten times as many

Who miss the homer with a bloop

Baseball brings it out in you

It doesn't put it there

You show what you are made of

By definition....to be fair

Williams, Maris, Dimaggio

Robinsons, Jackie and Frank

They played with an integrity

You could take it to the bank

If you want to be a winner

Please do this if you can

Be a man of character

Not a character of a man.

Depression and Schizophrenia

When at last you have become aware deep down yourself
and of the people whom require at last some mental health
be serviced, come to services
and you have at least one personality disorder
characterized by abnormal
and maladaptive inner experience, usually, from some past
and other ones behavior.

Personality disorders, also known as Axis II disorders, include obsessive-compulsive, avoidant, paranoid
and borderline.
Axis I disorders, on the other hand, include depression
and schizophrenia mental illnesses
thought to be less pervasive but more acute.

When Jane and Jonny you have lately come,
and all now know you both may have it, is P.D.
And you posses a very different personality,
and have at least one thing, in trust, all commons have.

Your mental illness will not for you for me remit.
Without professional intervention or medication,
behavior modification, death can likely end interdiction.

And exactly what that intervention should consist of
has there remained a subject for her/his long night debates
and his grows even shorter still.

This, along with the disorders' notoriety for being hosted,
problematic when at best it is to treat,
has posed challenges to their successful heartfelt resolution,
or at least known, knew to differant property lays in management.

When your personality disorder exhibits chronic,
pervasive problems
and getting along with other needful people.

View each book as a history book
and show the Nile,
but never hide the flower from the source,
nor the tree the burning bush.

James McLain Wednesday, September 29, 2010


Is It Not a Word

Saying nothing I have said,
That love has said it all.

A crushing hand, that
Squeezes on my heart.

I remember nothing else
An ember nor a spark.

Saying nothing I have said,
That love has said it all.

James McLain Sunday, April 26, 2020

Premium Member Whiskey After Work

A week away from Ground Hog Day
And my water heater’s sore.
It spat at my clumsy plumbing,
Took a leak on the basement floor.
That triggered my elderly sump pump
To noisily heave up its guts.
My cat on the workbench watched me endure
The death of a thousand cuts.
I loaded my Remington 12 gauge,
Thirteen rounds, counting one in the hole.
I returned to my waterlogged basement
And said “Darlin’, let’s rock and roll!”
I pumped the rack like a madman,
Drawing lines between the dots.
My neighbor had a heart attack
When he counted thirteen shots.
Then I ponied up and loosened my grip,
Put the Remington down, wiped the sweat from my lip.
I find no game in a proctored arena.
My demeanor is salty and gruff.
And it makes me laugh like a tickled hyena
When I’ve proven enough is enough.
And I celebrate the damage with an innkeeper’s perk,
Appreciating vengeance drinking whiskey after work.
P.S., I've got a Weil-McLain on order.

Forced To Relive The Trauma Of A Manipulated Unfair Trial Seven Times A Year

Dear Reader,

How does one pen the unspeakable? 
To endure injustice not once, but repeatedly—like a cruel wind that circles back to shred what little is left of a tattered soul.

The echoes of a manipulated trial, the mockery of fairness, reverberate through me like a wound that refuses to heal.

Nightmares are my inheritance;
they come cloaked in shadows, forcing me to relive the horror—of rapes endured in the cold confines of a cell, of the crushing silence of three years in solitary, where time itself became a tormentor.

Judge Manuel Menendez Jr., a specter of power misused, and States Attorney Cynthia Heir, wielding her authority like a weapon, haunt my waking hours as much as my dreams.

I am scarred by the past, yet forced to face it again and again.
Seven times a year, my mind and body are dragged through the fire.

PTSD is my constant companion, a relentless whisper reminding me of every violation, every indignity.

The system that should have shielded me became my jailer, my tormentor.

Yet even in the depths of this despair, I cling to one fragile hope:
that my voice, hoarse and trembling, might someday be heard.

That someone, somewhere, will see the inhumanity of this cycle and rise to break it.
Until then, I write—not for absolution, but for survival.

Yours forever in anguish,

James McLain


Hide

Do you enjoy it when you 
shake & quiver
 Feel the tingling itch & chilling shiver
 Twist & twirl inside your ever wandering mind
 The Lost- never truly let you find
 Embrace your tainted ride
 I know the secret you try to hide
 Sanity, hypnotized in the way
 Do you feel the temptation to come out & play
 Venture past the pitch of black's night
 Soo anxious to find you in my sight
 Can you willingly take control
 Entrapment takes it's rapid toll
~Stevie McLain

Death

I  I suspected I had contracted
sure death,
where would I go, where
death would not follow me?

Pandemics
like water they would
take the path
of least resistance
O' death how it followed
Me.

Preparations
concerning pure death
and death
is my name, not Duncan
being black
turned away, but I stayed.

Prosecuting
this violent strain
being burned
to a crisp
more love for a God
that only people
like you
have spelled backwards.

Profits deserve
their bottom line they
through each death
have obtained.

Children
have no understanding
Of
spreading the measles
that their
lacking deaths
wisdom
all parents would spread
through
the promotion of
death, Mmm it can.

Who benefits
the
most by spreading
black death
it took decades back
then where
man couldn't
fly
or simply put tried to hide.

A penny a day
each day when you double
that penny
won't
stay the same
as it's doubled it's worth
at the end
of thirty short days.

Death is here
death will stay whenever
some person
draws
the blood of Ebola
death
then as you know
unlike death it's kissing cousin
is freed once again
death to spread.

James McLain Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Doctor Rippy Tampa General Hospital Aged Twelve

When i was a young boy - ink stained test once with the girl
and the ink was sweet he 'said';
it made us unclean this test, from the man for he was the tester;
And that picture my bat of her 'poet' who he said, is nude
from scandal's shrewdly fled this country in white does it black
with all the butterflies he knew colored pink and blue.
Open i flew it as useless and the color of the rich man
actually can't; it's hiding in places love we deceived him.
The boy saw these people with their political advancement
of stages, i 'said' which is normal,
and doctor with the boy with her nose that last time
and the fact that love always fights and bites and claws it's way,
too the top, never forever restrained.
When prepubescent the boy;
and why being many you were once like this tried to think
and the boy and now the man was unwound
yo-yo's and string.
and the ink went round the stain, falling back up came too life.
The most normal response given to us when it's her time
and time is to him at it's most dangerous when currant.
and in compliance with the easy artist starves
and to use fear to make it open so eagerly and does too be fed.
Doctor that seeks with her one thing only and boys too,
which loves as his own and too the boy as well.
They don't mind joined together,
and will join in and his thing spreads our undergarment,
The nurse will reveal and the ink of the scrutineer will listen,
that (thing)their his will that place negated.
Dr. Rippy while the doctor undermines our credibility
and deducts from her finger when his is pointing
and before showing her/his thing,
rubbing ours together,
bored we think for his amusement, i think he
respects not our past collectives.
and took off points for our quick thoughts.
Ink blot tests, bats fly and poo, eyes cry and you?
While the rest of us whom would not be deceived,
received royal attention of electroshock therapy.
I have always wondered why, they would want you to forget
all of that which never really happens, but in dreams?


Dr.Rippy practiced psychiatry on children
in Tampa Florida when I was a child.

James McLain Sunday, February 21, 2010

Commercial Jingles

Each company targets specific demographics.
Except for fast food and coffee, where all are targets.
The use of English must be impeccable.
Their is no room for guessing when words are
missing and the reader has to guess at what word
should be used.
Listen to the very successful jingle now in use.
The hard working Korean's being such perfectionist.
The - it's all about you - a million dreams -
The perfect Air Line Commercial that targets U.S.

James McLain Saturday, September 5, 2015

It Drips Milk For Only You

It is so blind, it saw eyes, mouths, bodies, feet
imploring it's paint, it's beggars land, stroked
by hand.
It's can, faceted as one gem, drips only you.

The brush peels back, stroke by stroke, layer
by layer, new always differed you.
Each canvas, some happy, some mad, still it's
always you, is to Regina's sun.

The brush of lips, still trembles it, invitingly...why?
Lips brush the stroke, you make the paint, wants why?
The canvas is always full of different you, asks it,
is it not?
Respectable mirror to try on in you..why not?
It laughs at it's self, seeing a growth on it, so boss.

The rose drips, it is painted to it's natural blush,
as it's meant to be.
It is a struggle between the rose and it's blush, it's
a grippe so tight, the colors run at times, on it..you
still laugh amused.
It just cannot, as much as passion flames it's eye,
be reduced to frame, you in the boring same tired,
eyes of it is.
When every woman is her, she a Queen.



Google poetry James McLain

Dear Attorney Ambrose Brooksville Florida

Dear, Attorney Ambrose

What Caroline has been forced to indure has at the very least been detrimental to her brain development? 
Her frontal lobes being at best seventy five percent if that developed.
Having been since I've been gone, 
has caused her to be emotionally abused that has produced either heightened or prolonged activation of the stress system that will result in her later-life behavior.

And the bogus attempt to mollify me, based on my own abused experiences, leaves me with that sour taste, 
the taste of disgust that one knows when being told to achieve an out come, that you already know.

Psychological expert's are now more sure than ever as to how these early-life experiences change the brain, 
any reasonably intelligent person now knows 
that the brain responds by changing its structure, gene expression, and function. 
And to dismiss this reasonable argument should prohibit anyone who thinks else wise, from having
or playing a role in my daughters still developing mind.

Would you not agree? 

How do we help a traumatized child recover? 
There is no magical insight about an individual untrained in child abuse and their future behavior as was just recently tried in court by untrained D.C.F. worker's opining as to why Caroline was Baker acted.

Or that Caroline could understand the ramifications of her actions, 
other than to find a way to extradite her self from that her group home surrounding's.
Where self reporting as you suggested, would in the future find her.

Right? 

Instead, heightened caregiving and therapy involving social behavior is now the key.
Unfortunately all have for year's have known that Karen has never possessed the where with all
to change her self destructive behavior.

 Attorney Ambrose, we are all social creatures, and our social interactions in early life design the brain to greatly influence the person that we will one day become.

Please Respond! 

Sincerely, 

James McLain

Traveling Into Solitude

There are the few, then there are the
Rest of them.
Chatter boxes, bipolar manic woman, that men
Try to escape from.
Those that are men over here are of course put,
Into jails or prisons.

The magic of silence,
For the blessed few are able to dream any dream
Night or day
And prearrange the out come of what they dream, while
Wide awake before going to bed.

Without the preconceived notion of very hard work, to
Obtain the solution,
To each master piece, each work of art, even the words
That to most can't conceive.

For those few that have come they have not the ability,
To put up with the rest that make useless noise.
Precognition, remote viewing, complex math the writing of music,
The ability to master in a brief period of time
Most cerebral disciplines that take the rest forever to learn,
If they are blessed with that special genetic material.

Because for most that can travel into solitude, it creates within
Them that unnatural fear,
The fear that most have of living and dying alone.

James McLain Friday, October 13, 2017

Merry Christmas Uncle DeVoe And Aunt Shirley

In a humble home, where love takes its stand,
Uncle Devoe and Aunt Shirley, a diligent band.
Hardworking spirits, like a flame that won't tire,
Kindness and warmth, they generously inspire.

Aiding thousands with grace, their hearts pure and true,
Selfless endeavors, like morning's dew.
Though time keeps us distant, and miles intervene,
Missed moments weigh heavy, like a forgotten dream.

In the quiet of Christmas, nostalgia takes flight,
Memories dance, wrapped in starlight.
To Uncle Devoe and Aunt Shirley, a heartfelt refrain,
From afar, with love, James McLain.

Number Fifteen Sara Teasdale

Why should I care about rain and or snow,
About your green leaves that were silver and gold.
Or on a bush on that hill that will never be seen!
Or all of the trees that you climbed as a kid,
But summer was ours by the sea.

But lovely my dear, I really cared, I confess to you that I did.
Taken from me as a leaf caught up tossed around in the wind,
And trapped in a wave, a wave none could see.
There we once we're and now we're both here,
Quite, Silent and still, lost in our love and at peace.

James McLain Saturday, October 28, 2017

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