Is It Poetry

Gold Star - 16,742 Points (1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)

Is It Poetry
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Being from Tampa Florida,
and I know now that all of you can.
I am James McLain
the father of my daughter and like some of you
and being tall and true it's as such.
The tree a bush, and all those other lovely southern words,
we each and each is us, we make and still of thought we use and think when making sufferance to the other.

Thus each being we meet, each day and my/your could this be and day and day not the dark it is not.

Will you confess to a crime you did not do?
Verily It's sad that I have.
I am a progressive red neck, lovely are such
people the other's, that sadly have not.

I enjoy creating poetry ... more »

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Quotations

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  • ''Half
    of something
    is better than all of
    nothing.''
    is it poetry
  • ''When love
    becomes enduring
    then people
    will know peace.''
    is it poetry
  • ''A rose is not a rose until it bloom's.''
    is it poetry
  • ''Hot wood,
    filled with moisture
    can be bent,
    to the needs of
    the people.''
    Green
Read more quotations »

Comments about Is It Poetry

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

    Agree with your thoughts.

  • 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 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.

  • Chukwuma Ndububa Chukwuma Ndububa (7/28/2013 4:18:00 PM)

    A man for whom living is thinking. Fitted to exist in himself and not in another. Out of abundance of the heart, your poetry speaks. I believe I may understand that the learned man always has riches. Kudos, Bard.

  • 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

Read all 11 comments »
Best Poem of Is It Poetry

...................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..
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