Chameleon
by Angelfish

So, what are my opinions of Dean?
I´m not really sure
It´s different day to day
Like Dean
He seems to be different day to day too
Like a chameleon
Sometimes the dedicated family man
(Watch that ozone layer,
Don´t let the kids be out in the sun too long)
Other times a potsmoking drinking hippie
(The seventies were hip, dude)
And other times
Just a guy who wants to golf in peace
(Maybe with an adoring beauty at his side)
Maybe he´s just like the rest of us
Maybe we´re all chameleons
Giving each and everyone
The persona we think they want

My Poem about The Langoliers
by J. A. Jackson

Okay, here is the little ditty I wrote last Fall.  
Read it aloud, in an appropriate droning flat monotone . . . .
 
The Langoliers, The Langoliers . . . .
 
Why do I hate the Langoliers?
Is it because they're so sincere?
 
Those people trapped in The Langoliers?
 
Whatever happened to Balki's career?
But they really don't have a thing to fear.
Those people trapped in The Langoliers.
 
For things aren't as bad as they appear.
 
At least they're not WATCHING The Langoliers . . . .
 
-Jill- (Now making a quick exit by parachuting off the plane . . .
if only Dean could have done the same.)

TO RODDY McDOWALL 
by  Kim Zehler

You are flickering
 black and white.
A mere visage of past life.
Yet in your eyes I see your soul.
Hope and talent, life and love
forever shadows on a wall
and so although it is just in jest
I would like to try
to get to days gone by.
Because If I could tell you now
you would look the other way,
and tell me that I am insane
but shadows on the wall
never matter anyway. 
But they do, they do I say
and although your face has changed
your eyes are still the same
And I can still see life and love,
and now the memories of those days.
But then I still long for the time
when your thoughts were innocent and kind
and you could be receptive of me,
and that I simply identify
and am not in want of anything,
but to look into your eyes,
and touch a time lost lock of hair,
and stay frozen in your mind. 

A little Poem for Dean
by dragon100787311

As I sat at my window looking at the snow making
its way to the corner of the window frame.  
I sipped a cup of hot chocolate, as I breathed its
hot fumes in the air and a siluate emerged in the
shape of a face.  
The face seem so familiar to me
it was almost like looking into a crystal ball.
As the image grew so clear I could only see that
you were always on my mind.  
I sat there dreaming
of how it could have been if you had only looked
my way, your lips softly touching mine, your gentle
arms caressing my body so close to you that I
could feel your heart beat.  
Gentle are you who
drifts into my life only in a dream and never staying
long enough to be mine.  
I only admire you from
a far, seeing you on the screen and envey those who
have made you theirs.  
Sweet Gentle Dean may you
always be the person in our hearts, never be far
from our dreams and keep your spirit free as an
eagle who soars through the sky.

Why I like Dean Stockwell
by J. A. Jackson

Dean makes me think of other worlds,
Of auras never ceasing
He forces me to notice that
He might be only teasing
He's way too smart for his own good,
And cannot hide his fear
That we might read between the lines
Of his obvious career
 
He stares at others on the screen
And blinks from the spot lights
He tries to dodge and weave his way
Through other people's fights
 
He lives his life like Zelig
An Observer to the core
He never touches anything,
But leaves us wanting more
Some people walk across the stage
Displaying all their art
But Dean keeps his creations
Within the artist's heart
I like the man Dean Stockwell
On that we can all agree,
But knowing Mr. Stockwell?
What impossibility!

SIX DEGREES TO DENNIS HOPPER
by Kim Zehler

As I was cashiering at the party supply store,
I took a lady's check
The lady had the last name "Hopper."
I said, "You have a GREAT last name!"
She looked at me as if I were a cashier
with a mental deficiency
I went on to explain that
I LOVE Dennis Hopper.
She replied "Oh yes, we are related."
My mouth fell open, my eyes watered.
Mr. Easy Rider Dennis Hopper?
Mr. "There's a bomb on the bus" Dennis Hopper?
Mr. Don't mess with me, I might really be
a crazy motherfucker Dennis Hopper?
She nonchalantly smiled and nodded.
And then she had the nerve
to take her purchase of party hats
and leave.
It was the most exciting thing that
happened to me that week.
Besides watching a box of superballs
fall on some lady's head. 

My poam starts like this, Dean how do I Love the.1. D is for Disire to keep him in my Dreams for ever. E is for my Eternal Flame that he keeps burning. A is for amor that in my Heart. and N is for Need my need to see him every day. This togeather spells Dean. The man we all love and adore. I hope you all Like this let me know.

Your Friend and Deans Fan always,

Koretta