IainMcLean

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IainMcLean
  Junior Member

Iain lives in the Guadarrama mountains north of Madrid with his family. Having been blasted by wild love and cancer in his late fifties, the broad theme of Iain McLean’s work is that “passion and joy comes through, if the suffering is true”. Iain is a dramatist who, many years ago, won a national theatre prize in the UK and just kept on going, slipping between stage, film script writing and university teaching. For six-years he also wrote a monthly feature for a glossy mag in Spain. Healthy again, Iain has written two new screenplays and a first draft novel and reads his first anthology of poetry “Love Toxic” in clubs and slams in Granada.

  August 2021     1 month ago

Submitted Poems 3 total

Out-slept the Womb

Out-slept the Womb

Out-slept the womb, trancendent I,
Head resting on your belly sigh,
The crystal patchwork of my mind,
Attached to yours drinks from the vine,
My dreams beyond the clouding sky.

The first time that you smile belies,
You...

by Iain McLean

 40 Views
added 2 months ago
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In Conversation with Uninformed Bones

Hot veld and cold seas frame these ancestral scenes,
Ngurumo breathes in his African bloodline (and mine),
A dust laden, salty air swirls around his skull,
Flows down to his navel and back up through his lungs,
Never having stepped on a dead...

by Iain Mclean

 1 View
added 2 months ago
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Memory

One had a pretty face,
and two or three had charm,
but charm and face were in...

by W. B Yeats

 34 Views
added 2 years ago
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Favorite Poets 2 total

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Latest Comments: 2 total

Poetry.com
Firstly, the poems that I left unread are not completely unread. These I left unopened because the first lines didn't grab me for content or because they lacked (in my opinion) any poetic form. I chose this poem "The leaves are falling" because of it's beautiful simplicity and symmetry and what I interpret as a metaphor for a life nearing its end, at peace with the natural world of which, (all grand statements aside), we are an inseperable part. Neat. 

2 months ago

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Poetry.com
Nice to see the Iambic tetrameter. The beat of our hearts and language (The power of Wordsworth), adds a sort of cheeriness of tone as we stride towards our fate. Also the freshness from writing first draft in one go at 2am. Love "the permanance of all that's lost / In everything you've found". Congrats. 

2 months ago

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