Effort March, 1997
There once was a poet named Jim
Who came up with rhymes on a whim
But his poems were not deep
They were pithy and cheap
Oh Hell, here we go again.
Actions Nov 97One day after
One day before
Never deliberate
Can not ignore
Once before
We must begin
The time has come
Yet we can�t win
A Poem for Each Season July 98
A poem for each season
And a poem for each song
A poem for each woman
In my dreams I belong
A poem for depression
And poems for happy times
I guess I am lucky
That my joy and pain rhymes
You
April, 1997My knowledge that someone like you is out there,
Makes my burdens much easier to bear.
The time and the care you put into each letter,
Brings me a smile and makes me feel better.
The life that I�ve made for me, so complicated,
Your friendship to me, always appreciated.
I tell you my problems, you tell me yours, we compare,
But I think that I win in "Love life most in need of repair."
You put up with my complaints, self-loathing, and misery,
When I feel that "The shortest Straw Has Been Pulled for Me."
I need someone who knows me better than I do,
When I feel that my friends are far between and few.
Here is my finally, get ready, it�s deep,
So this is a poem that you may want to keep.
It�s amazing, such a little thing; like when we correspond,
Can bring me such joy, it helps me go on.
If only
Feb 97If only I could be
Someone other than me
And I could be we
For all eternity
If only the mirror
Did not instill fear
And you could be near
For all time from hear
If only my heart
Now how the pain darts
You and I from the start
Till time comes apart
If only my wit
Happiness it get
Just see how we fit
For time, infinite
If only we
We could be
Won�t you see?
Can�t you see?
The Moment
Nov 97Anticipation
Full contraction
Concentration
Your reaction
Contemplation
The confusion
Liberation
My sensation
EN!
April, 1997My beautiful En,
I�ll see you again.
We all will eventually get there.
Does it end or begin,
When we lose or we win?
Transcend all with the love that we share.
Very Simple Stacy Poem
[ part 1]April 97Stacy please rest,
You sound like a mess.
You need to get sleep and you know it.
Over I fell,
You have to get well.
A beautiful person, you show it.
Stacy, you�re great,
You�re voice is ornate.
Get ready to make an inference.
Sorry, it�s time,
I�m all out of rhymes.
I hope this poem made a difference
Very Simple Stacy Poem
[ part 2]July 97You don�t get a second poem
You didn�t deserve the first
As a matter of fact, even for that one
I feel I should be reimbursed!
Life Isn�t [Not original, edited March 97]Life isn't about keeping score.
It's not about how many friends you have
Or how accepted you are.
Not about if you have plans this weekend or if you're alone.
It isn't about who you're dating, who you used to date, how many
people you've dated, or if you haven't been with anyone at all.
It isn't about who you have kissed,
It's not about sex.
It isn't about who your family is or how much money they have,
or what kind of car you drive.
Or where you go to school.
It's not about how beautiful or ugly you are.
Or what clothes you wear, what shoes you have on, or what kind of
music you listen to.
It's not about if your hair is blonde, red, black, or brown,
or if your skin is too light or too dark.
Not about what grades you get, how smart you are, how smart
everybody else thinks you are, or how smart standardized tests say you are.
It's not about what clubs you're in or how good you are at sports.
It's not about representing your whole being on a piece of paper and
seeing who will "accept the written you."
IT JUST ISN'T.
But, life is about who you love and who you hurt.
It's about who you make happy or unhappy purposefully.
It's about keeping or betraying trust.
It's about friendship, used as a sanctity or a weapon.
It's about what you say and mean, hurtful or helpful.
About starting rumors and contributing to petty gossip.
It's about what judgments you pass and why,
and who your judgments effect.
It's about who you've ignored with full control and intention.
It's about jealousy, fear, ignorance, and revenge.
It's about carrying inner hate and love, letting it grow, and spreading it.
WHAT LIFE IS.
But most of all, it's about using your life to touch or poison other people's hearts
in such a way that could have never occurred alone.
Only you choose the way those hearts are affected, and those choices are what life's all about.
Writer�s Block August 96Debbie my dear, I my be in danger
With only two letters, you�re almost a stranger
In fact I�m so sure, I�m willing to wager
This poem will be difficult, impossible to write
I no longer go out, I always stay home
I talk to no one, must ignore phone
I once had friends, relationships blown
I stay up all day, I stay up all night.
You wanted a poem, I must confess
That I�m really trying, my brain is a mess
You deserve better, this I detest
Voices in my head, but their will I will fight.
This is the last stanza, that I guarantee
This poem, an exercise in futility
A poet I figure, I�ll never be
I hope these words quench your poetic appetite
�
The Question
May 1997The question that many eternally ponder
Of which no other, they may be fonder
Has plagued generations throughout the ages
Results of which has filled many pages.
The question that spawned much pontification
Need require very little more explanation
The question a given, of course, no other
Is how one becomes a fantastic great mother.
The title behooves no certification
Listed not as an official vocation
Programming VCRs not a qualification
Nor are numerous Vegas vacations.
One need not play sports, or in-line skate
Or to know when to fix one�s ABS breaks
No need to know math, or science, computers
Or to purchase kiwi strawberry wine coolers.
Now coming full circle, the question, the same
The problem persists, complications remain
But in your case it�s easy, so don�t rack your brain
One is a great mom when one�s son is Jim Stange.
There For You All
Dec 97In a dark corner
I sat and chuckled
Trying to pinpoint
The time my mind buckled
I guess one could say
That out I was stressed
My left brain went south
My right brain went west
It�s been said "All or nothing"
Are how things can go
True as that may be
Ramifications blow
I really tried so hard
To be there for you all
But I guess that I failed
I was destined to fall
The Bitter Poem
July, 97Wanted: sensitive, caring, honest guy
F*** you bitch, you�d rather die!
Say that�s what you want, but that�s not what you�ll get
You deserve each other, f***ing hypocrite!
They come and they go, you laugh and you cry
"All men are pigs," ever wonder why?
Cause that�s what you seek, and that�s what you�ll find
When bastards are cheep and love�s f***ing blind!
S*** World
July 97The world is a s***
And I part of it
Live what we get
Won�t let me forget
Life and you die
Must do and get by
Till time claim the eye
Hollowed and dry
Jennifer [part 1] Sep 97I kid you of your imperfections
Because of course you�re perfect
I focus on your faults
Because they don�t exist
I find that I must ground you
And bring you down a tear
If you knew how much I loved you
You wouldn�t wonder what I fear
Jennifer [part 2] Dec 97I kid myself of facts too long
Because of course I�m desperate
I focus on my strengths
Because they don�t exist
My fear was real, also my pain
There always is a hitch
To strike me while I�m down
Why couldn�t you talk to me bitch!?!?
Blank
Draw a blank
Must move on
The next one is
As good as done
But it�s not
I spoke to soon
Won�t come to me
What�s going on
What�s wrong with me
This can�t happen
Let�s settle down
And try the next one
Ten minutes left
Still have a chance
Don�t lose my head
Still have a chance
Another dud
It�s getting bad
This Can�t happen
Not to me
This doesn�t happen to me
Not again
No, please no
This Winter Night
Nov. 1997Tonight I broke up with the only girl I ever loved
With whom I went
When asked what she wanted; the realistic best case scenario for us
She said she thought it would be best for us to go our separate ways
I said if that was what she wanted, than I would respect her wish
What warmth had I, have no more; left cold, empty, depressed, and alone
And relieved
From a lie
A lie not there to think about, a lie worse than a broken heart
Hearts heal, lies don�t
Lies grow
Lies kill
By Myself
January, 1998Happiness fades
Unhappiness waivers
Thought you mean well
Please do me no favors
Time by myself
Is all that I need
Used constructively
Or to let my heart bleed
A choice to be made
Only I can decide
To shut out the world
Or to open my eyes
Eyeballs
Dec 97Eyeballs fall
Like rain
From the sky
At the top
Grab an umbrella
Don�t want to get wet
With all those eyeballs falling from the sky
Like eyes
Don�t look
The Good Times
Nov 97The bad times
The bad times that happen
The bad times that happen in your life
Are not the bad times of your life
Because they are just times
Times that happen in your life
The good times
The good times that happen
The good times that happen in your life
Are the good times of your life
Because they are the good times
Times that happen in your life
In every life are good times and bad times
But not every life is good and bad
Good lives are made from good times and times
Bad lives are made from bad times and times
Life is all the time
But time is yours to decide
Hearthold
Feb 98This poem has no beginning.
For the ability to begin would suggest
the ability to lay down a string of words.
How can I formulate in words
that which I cannot define in my own heart?
Years worth of love, of pity, of doubt, churning in my guts
without the confidence to solidify them.
Preferable to suppress the inevitable until the fantasy wears too thin,
for until the confession, there is always hope.
False hope may be, but lives have been lost on false hope,
so love is in good company.
For years I�ve cared too much,
I can protect you from myself no longer.
As the last cycle ends, the next one begins, the friendship, the denial,
the mask of thorns I choose to wear rather than turn away.
This poem is no poem, and this poem has no end.
For the ability to end would suggest
the ability to lay down a string of words.
All-Life-Doubt Sea
Feb 98Mazda Mystique
That�s something unique
No calls in a week
I need you around
Where are you found
Please come on down
Go swimming with me
In all-life-doubt sea
It�s better when we
And not you or I
Or any lone guy
Give it a try
It�s not bad together
It�s betters the weather
I�ll through a tether
And reel you to me
Happy as can be
I�ll show you, you�ll see
Blueberries
Dec 97Blueberry chapstic, glides on with ease
Voluptuous blueberries, come set me free
Jump in my mouth and dance on my tongue
You know that we could have so much fun
Wait
July 98I�m writing this poem
I�m stuck in this lot
The concert let out
But out I am not
I may want to leave
He doesn�t, I know
Sprawled out on his trunk
Receiving a blow
I drove here alone
No other real choice
No one to talk to
Had I still a voice
I can guarantee
I�m only one here
Waiting, writing "poems"
Not drunk on bad bear
But now the traffic�s finally breaking
I may get home before tomorrow
At least I have one more addition
To my own "Book of Counted Sorrows"
Lara
July 98You smash into my life
Attention every day
Overwhelmed I became
Was there no other way?
Why pick me? Every night
Torturous questions loom
Greatest fear, it would end
As began, just as soon
Goodbye
That�s all for now
My minds run dry
I must move on
So it�s goodbye