• Daddy's Eyes of My Own
• Can You?
• Currently Untitled
• Touch Like Ice Cubes
• Truck by Matchbox
• Domino Harvest But the Workers are Through
• Whether Friend or...
• There's a Shadow on the Land
• Gambler
• 4-Minute, 24-Second Break

Daddy's Eyes of My Own
Look into my mirror
and see staring back at me
a blend of the faces
that used to mean the world to me.
Its not that they mean any less
just the world means a whole lot more
than it did to me when I was just 3 or 4.

I've got my daddy's eyes
and his dimples in my cheeks,
mommy's little button nose.
(And damn it, I think a crow left those...)
Beside my eyes and lips
freckles like mommy wears
and ears that droop like my dad's
and that chin and pudge beneath
is both of theirs.

Yes.
There are tears like mommy cried,
and a pout just like my dad.
I see her sorrow deep inside
and the anger that he had.
A furrowed brow from mommy dearest
showing the world that I worry
and veins pulsing....throbbing....
Sharing my dad's gift of fury.

So with all the things
they gave to me
that I see clear as day,
all the things I don't like about me
leaves me angry today.
Because for all the steps I've taken
and followed them close behind
and walked a thousand of their miles...
Neither of them ever left me
a single one of their smiles.
Now, I sit,
and I wonder
why I have no joy...
in all these genes I wear.

May 22, 1997

Can You?
can you take me to the edge
and make me wonder
why I waited?
can you bring me to your heart
and make me care?
can you tear me from your side
and make me love you?
can you take me to the top
and make to jump?

need to feel that burning
longing for the yearning
feeling something again

can you bring me to ecstacy's door
and help me unlock it?
can you whisper the secrets of time
and make me tick?
can you look into my eyes
and make me believe you?
can you draw me in
just like a breath
and make me sweat?

oh, how I want you to
feel that burning?
longing for the yearning
being someone again

well, you hid yourself behind a guise
and managed to outdo my disguise
you wore the face
of someone I thought I knew

and, you took me to the edge
and made me wonder
you took me to your heart
and made me care
you took me to ecstacy's front door
and just left me standing there.

May 22, 1997

Currently Untitled
Hopped the redline
for a visit to my life.
Clicking off the miles,
hearing voices in the echos
of the clacking rail ties....
Ghosts of my past,
Soothsayers from my future
Warning
"Ever be afraid."
Reminding
"Never trust anyone."
Still I rode on
toward the line its ending--
Growing anxious for the stillness
Growing needy of the platform
Growing fearful of the impending.

June 5, 1997

(The following is a song parody created for
the James Lee Stanley Mailing List crowd.
My apologies to the original author.)

TOUCH LIKE ICE CUBES (To the Tune of Touch Like Magic) Every cow is lowing All around the farm They got the moos Every cow is lowing (they say) Jimmy got the cold hand blues Jimmy got a touch like ice cubes watch him place his hands while they chew their hay all around the stable the cows are frantic Extra lactose is here And a milkman waiting there as they say Came on like a coldfront Every cow he touch just get so cold Came on like a coldfront In every barn The story is already told (they say) Jimmy's got a touch like ice cubes Sittin' on his stool Let him warm those hands Jimmy's got a touch like ice cubes He's a coldhanded freak can't Stand to mar his cows with brands Every cow lows it Something's going on And it's growin' cool Every cow shows it Farmer's feet He's comin' And he's got his stool I guess you've got to Milk 'em while you're able I guess you've got to Churn it while you can (cause) Once you put your butter on the table Everybody knows there's no point In trying to milk a bull again Soon in the ol' barnyard Word has gotten 'round And they turn him away At the ol' barnyard There ain't a stable left Where the boy stacks hay It's too bad Jimmy's got a touch like ice cubes It's too bad Jimmy don't know when to warm It's too sad Jimmy's got a touch like ice cubes If he warms his other hand He'll get an udder that he can't refuse Every cow is lowin' ... Every cow is lowin' ... June 15, 1997

Original Words (and Music) by James Lee Stanley Parody Shamefully Created by Leigh-Anne "Peta" Dennison Based on a Conceptual Suggestion from Eva Frizzi A word about the cow...I borrowed this cow from the good people and artists at International Paper. Originally intended for my animal rights website, I was reading over this parody and couldn't think of another cow-image so befitting the tune...forgive me International Paper (and all your subsidiaries).

(Another song parody created for
the James Lee Stanley Mailing List crowd.)

TRUCK BY MATCHBOX
Everybody's truckin'
All around the town they got the news.
Everybody's truckin'
They say, "Jimmy got the carburetor blues."

Jimmy got a truck by matchmax
Watch him lose his treads while he spins his wheels.
All around the highway the drivers are frantic.
There's no muffler there; gives an odor in the air you can feel.

Came on like a Speedway
Everything he owns just turned to rust.
Came on like a Speedway.
Every part he's got has turned to dust.

They say....

Jimmy got a truck by matchbox
Make a little room, let him skid on de ice.
Jimmy got a truck by matchbox
It's the kind of truck leak can risk a driver's life span twice.

Everybody tows it...
Truck is breakin' down and it's brokin' good.
Everybody tows it...
Bucket seat, they must concede, they're drivin' on fumes.

I guess you gotta drive it while you're able,
You gotta keep an extra gas can.
Once you spread your carb out on the table
Everybody knows there's no point in tryin' drive that truck again.

Soon at the car lot
Jimmy's put money down--they turned him away.
At the other car lot
There ain't a dealership where the boy can drive away

It's too bad...Jimmy don't got no cruise.
Jimmy's got a truck by matchbox.
If he gets another ticket he gets a courtdate
He can't refuse.

Everybody's truckin'
Everybody's truckin'

August 28, 1998
Original Words (and Music) by James Lee Stanley
Another Parody Shamefully Created by Leigh-Anne "Peta" Dennison
Based on a Discussion incited by CharJ

Domino Harvest but the Workers are Through
Sitting by my window
on a cloudy L.A. night
when a voice breaks through the smog
shining in a ray of light.
Melodious voice--strumming hand....
half the members of Two Man Band,
Are you singing that song just for me?

Intent on what that voice is singing
While that phone just keeps on ringing
and I know its only you
doing just what it is
you told me not to do.
But when the ringing stops
and the knockin' starts
I realize its not the door
but the cold side of my heart.

Am I the last to realize
what everybody knows?
Are you the one?
Is that what the wind whispers
when it blows?

And wouldn't it be
just like love
to come after me in this way?
Asking me to listen
leaving me nothing left to say.

Now that dirty job
that you have to do
sends a shiver down me
over and over, through and through.
Catching my breath,
breathing in yours....
Breaking apart my arguments
Like the seas break on the shores.

In a sweat of denial,
running to the mirror,
seeing my daddy's eyes
shining back at me
with a divine clarity
even I can see.

I wasn't even looking
when your love came along
a fork in my road
and like Frost I had to decide
on which trail I'd belong.

Finally giving in
to love unexpected
partaking of your natural fruits
I feel a natural high
taking me by surprise....
I wasn't even looking
And now you've gone straight to my heart.

July 26-27, 1997

Whether Friend or....
Standing by the payphone,
Tears running down my face,
Make-up a blur and hair a fright,
Can't believe I'm here
Calling you in the middle of the night.

You said I should call
anytime...
Now that I'm flying blind,
Will you want to hear my voice
on the other end of the line?

Were you looking for another
sunny girlfriend?

Well, the tire's dead flat,
and the wind's all that's picking me up
in the middle of highway one-oh-three.
Punching in your number....
The guilt weighs heavy on me.

You said I should call
anytime....
Now that I'm stranded and alone
Will you pick up this time
or just let the machine get the phone?

Were you out looking for another
sunny girlfriend?

Unfocused eyes glaring
at that glowing face,
Hear the phone bell ringing
time to cut to the chase

A sleepy "Hello?"
A weary "Did I wake you?"
A fibbing "No,"
I smile over the phone.

I told you too to call me
anytime...
Now that the tables are reversed,
I will do the listening....
This one's your verse.

See, I wasn't looking for another
sunny boyfriend
in this lousy fairweather town.

September 2, 1997

There's A Shadow on the Land
I saw the clouds
black as charred cinders
roll in.
And a hand stretch out
over the land
and grabbed all the hearts
like a pile of sand.

And I saw a thousand hands
break through the earth's crust.
Reaching up
and grasping
through the settling dust.

Reaching out for the heartless
Screaming out against
the profane voices
that seer and terrorize,
fear and immobilize
feet set forth to action.

A thousand hands reaching,
ten thousand feet marching,
still not a single heart
was retrieved.
Not one vicious tongue
retreated.
Not a single sentence
reprieved.

September 2, 1997

Gambler
Sad voice
echoing hurts
felt and heard
from dawn to dusk
of time to time.
Willing participant
risking sorrow
for a chance
of happiness
odds are
just that.

July 30, 1997

4-Minute, 24-Second Break Frustrated I sit in my sterile office under humming fluorescent lights, looking out a polygon window at the geometrically fashioned city.... Building after building, car after car, asymetric by symetric, an endless grid of rusted dust encrusted progress stares blankly back. Faintly in a distant cubicle, I hear some poor peer being chewed out at the boss's pleasure. Sip cold coffee from my cup, walkman at my side.... Slip on the headphones. You greet me warmly whispering your words in my ears. With peaceful and powerful refrain after refrain, You carry me far away from this linear place. Moved to hapazard fields and crisp white blankets of unshoveled snow. As far as my mind's eye can see trees stretching up and out in wild, random patterns. The glowing warmth of the sun now resting on my face, I can feel the cool breeze brush my cheeks raising a blush. The metaphoric air feels crisp and fresh, a stark contrast to the dinge and dirge of my fiscal confinement of day-in-day-out. Like a friend beside me arm around my shoulder You give me a tour of your worlds alone with your words. A little log cabin with swirling, curling puffs of smoke.... The flurry of footprints left by furry fellow creatures who have shared this scene.... The blurry blue skies and sprigs of spring grass reaching out through the snow.... With a squeeze of my shoulder and a fade out.... you're gone. And, I'm transported back to my world with the glowing warm computer screen reflecting off my face and snowy white blankets of disshoveled paper spread out before me. Now (after 4 and 24), I feel refreshed, less confined, less broken for the break. September 12&October 20, 1997

My James Lee Stanley countryside

You are the poetically active human being to stop by.

If you enjoyed the Jamesleeian parodies herein contacted,
you'll want to visit Jingle James & the Listmas Choir.

Return to Somewhere In Between

The works herein contained were humbly submitted to you by Leigh-Anne Peta Dennison.
ALL THESE WORKS, unless otherwise stated, are copyrighted and the sole property of the page
originator/creator/author, Leigh-Anne Dennison. Any UNAUTHORIZED use of this material
(i.e. without obtaining the author's permission) constitutes a violation of the copyright laws.