Poetry by James Larson

Ok, ok, these doggerel lines don't hold a candle to Edgar Allen Poe. However, I happen to believe you don't need genius to write poetry, just a good command of the English language. I admit this stuff doesn't flow freely as it is engineered verse. If these don't float your boat, fine. The Internet is where people of modest accomplishment can strut their stuff -- or lack of it -- for all to see and wretch over.

  • Traffic Light, Traffic Light
  • The Best Love
  • My Wife's Gone Home
  • Apples for Teachers
  • Crystal Report Blues
  • A friend was facing an unexpected loss of employment.

    Here I sit all depressed
    In a million years I could not have guessed
     That my employer had a pink slip
    Tucked securely in his sweaty grip
    Intended for my desk greatly messed
    How could this be
    How did this misfortune befall little old me!
     I worked so hard
    I went the extra yard
    Yet my striving the boss could not see
    I cry out to God
    As stress and distress wash over my poor bod
     Life is so unfair
    Yesterday I had not a care
    And today I lay under trod
    But I am not finished yet
    For I have no regret
     This is only a minor setback
    Soon I will find the crack
    The Lord has left for me in this sour net

    What can I say? This world is so screwed up, something has to explain why.

    Murphy, Murphy, Murphy
    His life was such a trophy

    They say he was an optimist
    As he promulgated his famous list

    Of how easy it is for things to go Awry
    I think I'm going to cry

    Never enough time
    What a great crime

    If it can go wrong
    It will go wrong

    If you're convinced it's right
    It won't be right

    If it looks long enough
    It won't be long enough

    Today it looks good
    Tomorrow it is not good

    What a beautiful and wondrous world
    Yet a perverse and weird world

    Murphy, Murphy, Murphy
    Life can be such a turkey

    I recently got nailed by a traffic light camera. The hearing officer didn't buy my lame excuse. $85 down the drain. So I wrote this poem to soothe my aching wallet.

    Traffic Light, Traffic Light
    Traffic light, traffic light
    What art thou, traffic light?
    Preventer of mindless flight.
    Ruler by night,
    Ruler by day,

    Guardian of the intersection
    'Tween me and my destination
    Source of great aggravation
    Cause of many a citation
    Waster of gas

    Red lamp, green lamp
    My pants have become damp
    Trying to miss a tramp
    Stumbling over a corner ramp
    Soiler of fine cloths

    Cross walk, sidewalk,
    An unwelcome opportunity to talk,
    As I attempt to balk
    As bystanders begin to gawk
    A hooker's place of business

    Signal pole, support pole
    A big target roll
    An unavoidable goal
    At high speeds take their toll
    Gravestone of a fugitive

    Love is an act of one's will, so says 1 Corinthians 13. You want true love? Love your neighbor (or spouse) as yourself!

    The Best Love
    Live and love, love and learn
    The affection for which I yearn
     Built on mutual trust
    And respect for which I lust
    But is so hard to earn

    The wife of a good friend recently passed on. They had been married 60 years. While we both know she is with our Lord, the pain of seperation is still great. I tried to put myself in his shoes.

    My Wife's Gone Home
    As I long for my wife
    of so many, many years
    I think back on the strife
    we had endured through troubled tears

    I hold her memory aloft
    while angels come and settle
    A wind so gentle and soft
    Her loss a new trial to test my mettle

    Her leaving is so incomprehensible
    Since we shared so much love on this earth
    Yet I know it is only sensible
    That God would want to give her a new birth.

    I'm going to become an educator! Over the web, of course. I wrote this for my new colleagues.

    Apples for Teachers
    Teaching is such a great profession
    To each generation in succession

    Students freely come and go
    Yet leave behind a magnificent glow

    Each eager parent a huge blessing
    Every young soul a time of testing

    When my heavenly home I someday reach
    My greatest reward will be those I teach

    Marching through the pearly gates
    Bearing apples for teachers in golden crates.

    My friend got himself a new job. From his description of his first week on duty, he's bitten off a good chunk of challenging intellectual meat. To chear him on, I wrote this poem:

    Crystal Report Blues
    Assemblies moan in unison,
    Details flow toward oblivion,

    My mind gasps,
    As the data clasps,

    To my aching, aching psyche,
    And clinging to my Nikes,

    Dragging me beneath the surface,
    Drowning me in intricate purpose,

    Each sales order line,
    Beating my head with pine,

    Expanding into a whole screen,
    With more numbers behind the scene,

    My hope of deliverance,
    As I make my entrance,

    My new job I have chosen,
    Has my sanity frozen,

    Oh! What have I done,
    For my desire is to run,

    But I must stay for two years,
    Lest my friend box my ears!

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    This has been written, distributed and Copyright © 2006 by

    James Larson
    Programmer/Analyst Consultant
    E-mail address
    In God We Trust...