Actually, to tell you
truth, whole truth, and nothing but the truth, one of these poems (Crazy
Ones) isn't actually a poem that I wrote. I actually got it from
my Freshman English teacher. Let me tell you, this is the best gift
I have ever gotten from any teacher in any class. Thank you Ms. Buechele
for this amazing poem. Dream, Dreamgirl, and I Know are all Jamis
originals. Here goes.....
Here's to the crazy ones.
The round pegs in the square holes.
The ones that see things differently.
They're not fond of rules.
They have no respect for the status quo.
You can praise them, disagree with them, quote them,
disbelieve them, glorify or vilify them.
About the only thing you can't do is ignore them.
Because they change things.
They invent. They imagine. They heal.
They explore. They create. They inspire.
They push the human race forward.
Maybe they have to be crazy.
How else can you stare at an empty canvas and see a work of art?
Or sit in silence and hear a song thetas never been written?
Or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels?
We make tools for these kinds of people.
While some see them as the crazy ones, we see them as genius.
Because they people that think they are crazy enough to think they
change the world, are the ones who do.
Love is joy.
Love is pain.
Love is entertaining.
Love is annoying.
Love is fleeting.
Have you ever dreamt a dream that you didn't want to leave.
You could spend your life in her warmth,
an eternity in her comfort.
You could quench your thirst from her lips,
feed off of her embrace.
You could find energy in her life,
rest in her arms.
For a moment you have everything,
all that you desire.
But soon you will awake to the day that lies ahead,
and wait patiently for the moment that you may return to bed.
You will always love her.
I dream of a girl.
With beautiful, flowing hair,
as golden as the mid-day sun.
Her eyes a bright shade of baby blue,
their beauty only rivaled by the afternoon sky.
Yet, they twinkle like the stars at night.
Her amazing smile could be compared,
to the crescent moon of the spring equinox.
The brightness of her cheek is that of a red rose,
waving in the summer breeze.
She has the intelligence of Einstein,
Drew Carey's sense of humor,
the confidence of Malcom X,
and the sensitivity of a modern day Juliet.
We enter an empty room,
our own private soundgarden.
The punkish riffs of Kurt Cobain jamming
and thumping in the darkness.
All we need is each other.
The rest of the world sits,
hoping to taste such happiness.
Then I awake.
I know your favorite color is pink,
and purple is pretty cool too.
I know your favorite foods are chocolate and hot sauce,
but not together.
I know that your favorite guitarist is Hendrix,
but Santana really is better.
I know you hate it when people swear.
I know you hate feet.
I know your favorite band is Everclear (and The Beatles and The Pumpkins
I want you to know that I really do listen.
I know that you've had a hard family life,
and I wish I could help ease that pain.
I know that you have one trillion and one friends.
They must see the same things that I see.
I know that "You've got mail" holds a special place in your heart.
I know that your ten times better at basketball than me.
I know your alot cuter than me too.
And smarter and nicer for that matter.
I just want you to know that someone really does love you.
I need a friend.
I need my friends not to fight.
I need someone to talk to.
I need you to listen.
I need to laugh.
Laugh with me.
I need some confidence.
I need some self-esteem.
I need to stop criticizing myself.
I need to try harder.
I need to end it all.
Why am I still here?
I need someone to love.
I need someone to love me.
I need someone to be with.
I need you.
I need you to need me.
That's why I'm still here.
All the poems that I wrote
were inspired by one spectacular, amazing, beautiful girl (you know who
you are). I should be posting some more that are currently in the
works. Well thanks for looking at the site. Bye all.