HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: rsquires@cyclops.eece.unm.edu (Roger Squires)
Subject: Re: A couple of questions if you don't mind
Date: Thu, 12 Nov 92 09:15:21 GMT
Organization: University of New Mexico, Albuquerque

In article <1992Nov11.192005.12830@city.cs> lionel@cs.city.ac.uk (Lionel Tun) writes:
>lionel@cs.city.ac.uk (Lionel Tun) writes:
>>I'm not sure if this is the right group to ask, but I have
>>a couple of questions:
>>1. From which play does the phrase 'though this be madness,
>>   yet there is method in't` come?
>>2. 'A host, of golden daffodils` comes from which
>>   Wordswoth poem?
>>3. Did T.S. Eliot write 'The Wasteland`?
>>Thanks
>>   

	Welcome to r.a.b., Mr. Tun.
	(I'm also a proud inhabitant of t.o.adhall :) )

	The answers to your questions can probably be answered electronically.
	The r.a.b. FAQ tells how, but for your (and others') convenience:
	telnet to hangout.rutgers.edu and go into the Library/Reference
	menus to access the online OED quote book; this will often answer
	questions #1 & #2.  The answer to #3 is yes, and I'll add that
	Mr. Eliott's complete poems may be obtained from Oxford via
	ftp.  Send a message to archive@vax.ox.ac.uk for files available
	and directions for ordering.

>Lionel Tun   (lionel@cs.city.ac.uk)

Roger Squires
rsquires@cyclops.eece.unm.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jessop@ljohub.enet.dec.com (Class Dinosauria)
Subject: Human Interaction Is...
Reply-To: jessop@ljohub.enet.dec.com (Class Dinosauria)
Organization: Digital Equipment Corporation
Date: Wed, 11 Nov 1992 14:04:10 GMT




	Human Interaction Is...

	:Hurled frustration,
	 Angry missile,
	 IMPACT!

	:Crushed gravel tumbling,
	 Forming a small pile below,
	 Each piece a humbling
	 Emotional blow.

	:Societal stones cast about,
	 Painful retribution,
	 Sorrow barred without,
	 A defensive contribution.

	:A lifetime barrier;
	 Strike first!
	 Or be hurt.


		msj
From: oauld@ponder.csci.unt.edu (orion okotu auld)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: ID this Roethke
Date: 8 Nov 92 22:42:14 GMT
Organization: University of North Texas

In <1992Nov3.230722.1086@nmsu.edu> sabbott@nmsu.edu (SDA) writes:


>oauld@ponder.csci.unt.edu (orion okotu auld) writes:
>>
>>   There's this one Roethke poem, fairly prominent, I think, that contains
>>   the line "my mind's not right".  Can anyone id the poem and tell me where
>>   it is from?

>Freudian analysis is so passe (as are puns about freudian analysis).

My ego is hurt by your allegation that I intended the pun.  

                     --Orion
From: jessop@ljohub.enet.dec.com (Class Dinosauria)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: A Lonely Death...
Date: 5 Nov 92 22:43:43 GMT
Article-I.D.: rdg.1992Nov5.224343.20724
Reply-To: jessop@ljohub.enet.dec.com (Class Dinosauria)
Organization: Digital Equipment Corporation


    A lonely death...
    
    Sticky sangrine slowly seeps,
    Sickeningly salty and sweet;
    Red tears my slacked veins they weep;
    Skyward, angels my eyes do seek.
    
    Liquid shadows silently creep;
    Haunting blackness my senses keep;
    Quietly slipping, dripping deep,
    Falling forever in deathly reap.
    
    			Msj
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: sheilah@wam.umd.edu (Sheila Herndon)
Subject: Re: A couple of questions if you don't mind
Organization: University of Maryland, College Park
Date: Wed, 11 Nov 1992 21:00:38 GMT

In article <1992Nov11.191627.12693@city.cs> lionel@cs.city.ac.uk (Lionel Tun) writes:
>I'm not sure if this is the right group to ask, but I have
>a couple of questions:
>3. Did T.S. Eliot write 'The Wasteland`?
>Thanks



	Why don't you go to the library and look up an Anthology of
	T.S. Eliot's poetry to see if it includes or discusses 
	"The Wasteland"?




	If it is inconvienient for you to make a trip to the library,
	you can telnet. 
-- 
I am always wrong. Don't believe me ever.
stark raving sane  sheilah@wam.umd.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: alk4@ellis.uchicago.edu (Alex L. Karan)
Subject: Burn Out (Bad Metaphor)
Reply-To: alk4@midway.uchicago.edu
Organization: University of Chicago Computing Organizations
Date: Sun, 8 Nov 1992 19:38:44 GMT

Good morning folks.  Almost snowed yesterday..oh well,
i've got another one for you.  No chicken soup in this one.



Burn Out
(bad metaphor)
--------


Under a burned out bulb
a few moth eaten nights
cling to metal skeletons.
One half hangs:

some off moon impaled
on a greasy fish hook, 
too fat to pull down.

That thin line sliced 
into my hands
but I wouldn't let go;

still find myself dragged 
onto raw mornings,
barefoot on cold floors.

Time to change it;
rattled loose 
inside long enough.



Alex L. Karan




Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ralph@wixer.cactus.org (Ralph Cherubini)
Subject: Poem--Only so much
Organization: Real/Time Communications
Date: Tue, 10 Nov 92 12:32:41 GMT


                             Only so much

                The god in which she believes
                sporadically
                holds her to him
                when she lets him
                only so much
                before she can feel the relaxation soften
                all her being
                the dis-ease intrudes
                she awakes on the edge of sleep
                her sleeves made wet by the surf
                the tides become her enemy
                she will not be carried
                must have surprise on her own terms
                how love has become a struggle
                demanding a winner.



-- 
ralph@wixer.cactus.org
cactus.org!wixer!ralph
From: benge_kl@lrc.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Why My Poetry Stinks
Date: 4 Nov 92 13:48:41 EDT
Organization: Lenoir-Rhyne College, Hickory, NC

This is my first posting to this group.  I welcome criticism and comments,
but be gentle.

Why My Poetry Stinks
====================

People ask:
  "What's wrong?"
And I say:
  "I want."
They ask:
  "What?"
I can only shake my head
And shed a tear.

What hurts most
Is not knowing
What hurts.

I read poetry
About love
And sex
And loss
And confusion
And joy
And even other poems.

And I am jealous.

For I have no rhymes
Or wordplay.
Only my feelings.

And I don't even know what they are.

What hurts most
Is not knowing
What hurts.
From: v131p9t3@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu (Ninstar Cybermage - Back Again from the Mists!)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Blistering Flame: Response from the Author / Marek
Date: 12 Nov 92 18:49:00 GMT
Organization: University at Buffalo
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41

In article <1992Nov11.224649.8834@news.acns.nwu.edu>, marek@casbah.acns.nwu.edu (Marek Lugowski) writes...
>v131p9t3@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu (Ninstar Cybermage - Back Again from the
>Mists!), an obviously silly person to judge from the name

No I'm not silly.  Ninstar Cybermage is an extremely symbolic title to me, 
which also happens to be a fictional character(albeit a comic-book-like one)
that I write about.  Ninstar is my creation.  I flaunt him at will.
"Back again from the mists!" refers to my return to school after a leave
of absence while under treatment for Leukemia.  If you don't know what you're
talking about then shutup or put it in one of your poems!

>I'm genuinely sorry you don't like me. 

I don't know enough about you to like or dislike you.  I merely dislike your
commentary.  

>Perhaps if I lived in Buffalo I too
>would call myself Ninstar Cybermage to escape the painful realities of not
>living in Toronto.  I feel for you. Hope the Bills win something this
>season and may you have fun playing silly role-model games with the
>youngest of them.  In fact, you of all people should allow me the grace
>of playing theatre for laughs and insults.  As Mary Anne says, we all get
>what we deserve.  Thursday is Prince Spaghetti Insult day for you.  Enjoy!

Perhaps if I lived in Toronto, I would base my self worth on something
as idiotic as a football game, and take the opportunity to trash others
on the basis of their living in a city that loses the superbowl 2 years
in a row.  Which I dunno if you'd have noticed in your ignorance.  

I know how to trash someone's poems without making it into a personal insult,
can you say the same?

>Anyone with a .sig longer than 4 lines is a tasteless self-important fool,
>inconsiderate of other net.readers.  Do you really think we care for your
>eye-sore of pound symbols arranged in English hedges?  Get a life.

Anyone with an attitude like yours has no right to judge my .sig(Though I do
plan to shorten it).  Your self importance just oozes from the page.

> 
>Constructively yours,

Hmph.


James Shank           	#		v131p9t3@ubvms.cc.buffalo.edu
AKA: Ninstar Cybermage  #	or	shank@acsu.buffalo.edu
##############################################################################
Sneaky Types,Inc.:Clandestine operations for the common man.
	"Don't call us.  We'll just bill you when it's done."
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: sara@gator.rn.com (Sara Gordon)
Subject: forever, messing
Keywords: act 2
Organization: The Gator Conferencing System 219-289-3745 
Date: Fri, 6 Nov 1992 06:40:52 GMT



 
	once they were lovers forever...
	they were lovers forever once
	nowadays she prefers to keep her sex to herself
	he's not leading her on and she's not asking him to
	c'mon, baby, talk to me in italian
 
        any language but bulgarian...
 
 
Sara Gordon & Tom Wachtel, South Bend, at Denny's
 

 
	well the bastards just keep calling
	and messing with my line
	all fixing this and fixing that
	and fooling with my time
	all the boys want to play in my back yard
	in the bushes and the trees
	all on their dirty knees
	all on their dirty knees
 
 
Sara Gordon & Tom Wachtel, South Bend, on the telephone
 

-- 
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Talk to me about computer viruses.        sara@gator.rn.com  
                                          SGordon@Dockmaster.ncsc.mil
From: beh@kropotkin.gnu.ai.mit.edu (various Howellses)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: lullabye
Date: 9 Nov 92 23:16:51
Organization: Internet access via the Free Software Foundation
Distribution: world
NNTP-Posting-Host: kropotkin.gnu.ai.mit.edu


Sleep, sleep on, my child, my dear,
sleep in my arms, in your mother's arms,
where there is nothing to fear,
where there is no harm;
sleep on my child, my dear.

Sleep, sleep on, my wee one, my child,
sleep in your peacefull dreams,
where all is pleasant, harmless and mild,
and things are what they seem,
sleep on my child, my dear.

Sleep on, my nothing, my never, my child,
the one which will not see, will not hear,
your mother is angry, and jealous and wild,
and filled with agression and fear;
sleep on my dream one, my dear.

Sleep, lulla, baby, 
Sleep, rock you now,
Sleep, my unborn one,
weary and mild
who will never be brought out
will never be seen,
will never be harmed,
will never be real...

Lullabye, baby, away from all care,
the strife and the memories,
the evil that's here,
and the ones who would slay you,
or mock you,
or wound you,
or fight...

Sleep little un-one
Sleep on, and sleep tight....

Lullabye.

--Nancy Howells
(beh@gnu.ai.mit.edu until I have a home of my own.)

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jjimenez@magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu (Joel A Jimenez)
Subject: ** How can any man
Summary: C&C please
Organization: The Ohio State University
Date: Fri, 6 Nov 1992 22:34:01 GMT


   How can any man,
   Least of all me,
   Ever approach your beauty?

   I gaze upon fair,
   Heavenly eyes and,
   My thoughts are lost within them.

   If you only knew,
   How much I desire,
   To hold you within my arms,

   How much I desire,
   To share your every
   Thought, your every need, your soul.

                      - Joel A. Jimenez
                          11/5/92

C&C please.  jjimenez@magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: lichter@oahu.cs.ucla.edu (Michael I. Lichter)
Subject: gringos in Jerusalem
Organization: Still UCLA After All These Years
 
Date: Fri, 6 Nov 92 02:20:12 GMT

	gringos in Jerusalem
	------------------------------------------------------

	once in a "teahouse" in East Jerusalem
	sipping a Bud or was it a Macabee no
	it was an Israeli Bud with a funky Hebrew 
	label far tastier than the domestic stuff 
	sitting there five gringos who met like
	ten minutes before at a two-buck per night 
	single room hostel like a junior mass grave
	and now here at a wood table in a dark beer-postered
	wood-panelled room with Mick Jagger singing
	CAUSE I'M FREE ANY OLD TIME TO GET WHAT I WANT 
	and the older guy khaki puff-jacketed and
	gray-bearded and says that he was In Nam and I 
	say you know it's really awful that on tv and 
	in the movies and all that the Vietnam Vets 
	are all evil or psychothrashed shell-shocked crazy
	and he says yeah well it's been a couple years since 
	I was loony-binned and sometimes fire-fight is 
	in every sound and motion and death-armed 
	blam blam jungle comes to me when my eyes close
	except when I rinse it out with those pills
	AND NOT FADE AWAY but i got that monkey caged 
	now after my wife BABY BABY BABY YOU'RE 
	OUT OF TIME and he took a gulp from his long-neck 
	Hebrew-swathed Bud and IT'S SO VERY LONELY 
	YOU'RE 2000 LIGHT YEARS FROM HOME said well what 
	did you expect?  and some throat cleared and he said 
	great music, huh? the good old days! and tilted 
	back his bottle

				Michael Lichter
				November 5, 1992
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ralph@wixer.cactus.org (Ralph Cherubini)
Subject: Poem--On the death of a small animal
Organization: Real/Time Communications
Date: Fri, 6 Nov 92 20:00:21 GMT


                                On the death of a small animal

                Sorrow in my hand
                the weightless body
                which carried consciousness
                through four years of behaviors
                characteristic of her kind
                which now flash through my mind--
                as sunny days of tasty seeds
                as bead-like eyes watch ever for danger
                never learning that none was ever here
                for her
                the joys of shredding tissue
                the greatest in her life--
                all these I see
                as her small energy joins with mine
                on her final journey out of the cage.




-- 
ralph@wixer.cactus.org
cactus.org!wixer!ralph
From: venky@sybase.com (Venkataramann R)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: First time !
Date: 6 Nov 92 04:59:43 GMT
Organization: Sybase, Inc.





Hi ! Netters....I did finally dare to post one of my latest poems...
I appreciate your feedback on my first venture into this newsgroup
( I could be encouraged !!)



** Turbulence **

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I see you in a lasting haze
trying to get thro the maze
of contrasting streams of thought
the life of you has brought

i am in disbelief when you
allude the wanton prelude we dared
to be sole pillar of reason to woo  
the friends in us that flared

i like my time in the sun
basking in the friends life has
in its smoother times, and in fun
i mean all good and no crass

i see and feel the high and the lows
that you wade thro but more is gained
when we whistle, thro times pained
because are the lows more than highs

i would rather see the glow in you that
speaks of the friends in us, that strengthen
us to look the bright of us, short times we're at
upbeat the mood be, while i pen 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




Venky (venky@sybase.com) 
From: daq@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom)
Date: Thu, 5 Nov 1992 16:48:15 GMT
Subject: Re: Love is like an armpit.
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems

In rec.arts.poems, gj156879@prince.carleton.ca ( gj student 156879) writes:

> 
>           Love is like an armpit
>           We cover it up with pretty smells
>           But it's still an armpit:
>           Hairy,
>           Wet,
>           Slimy,
>           And fun,
>           In a childish way.
>  
>           I have grown obsessed with the bouquet
>           Of a particular being.
>           I eschew deoderant to this day.
> 

This is pretty funny.
It is refreshing to see an honest
and insightful love poem.

Kudos.

doug
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ktw@polaris.att.com (79243-wolman)
Subject: Re: Urdu Ignorance (part II)
Originator: news@cbnewsb.cb.att.com
Organization: AT&T
Date: Fri, 13 Nov 1992 13:38:27 GMT

In article <24167@alice.att.com> rhh@alice.att.com (r hardin) writes:
>
>
>Melynda Reid writes:
>>there is a larger ignorance at work here---the consequences of
>>animosities generated by a babble of tongues. i do not mind being
>>taught gently about the culture and language of those outside of my own
>>linguistic family or tribe. but i feel very strongly that it is is
>>highly unethical to cultivate attacks on other people and other
>>languages. i object to such obscenity. you have an opportunity to
>>educate a world of users of electronic media. use your resources to
>>create understanding not hatred.
>
>What of the fine poem in the current New Yorker,
>
>	Little Zooks, of whom no one was fond.
>	They shot towards the roof and beyond;
>	The infant's trajectory passed him over
>		the rectory
>	And into a lily-choked pond.


Ron, have you ever made a comment in this group that is relevant to
the subject under discussion?
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: kt1@hera.cc.bellcore.com (tellefsen,karen a)
Subject: Apology for Urdu ignorance
Organization: Bellcore, Livingston, NJ
Date: Wed, 11 Nov 92 21:45:37 GMT


I apologize for the limerick Mr. Haveliwala posted.
I am sorry if I offended anyone.

While I admit to writing the limerick (I can't resist them),
I never intended it to be posted.  It was written only for the
amusement of Mr. Haveliwala, who had taken a bad beating from
some of the contributors of r.a.p.  In my opinion, he was attacked
first.  I should have made my intentions clearer in my e-mail.

This whole thing has been a mess, and I am not the only one
who should be ashamed.

Karen Tellefsen

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ralph@wixer.cactus.org (Ralph Cherubini)
Subject: Poem--Abuse of privilege
Organization: Real/Time Communications
Date: Tue, 10 Nov 92 01:48:35 GMT


                       Abuse of privilege

                He had 17 items
                (at least)
                in the 10-item
                EXPRESS lane
                during rush hour
                at the supermarket
                on Christmas Eve
                six people grabbed butcher knives
                dual purpose
                from the display near at hand
                and whittled him down to size.

                Imagine
                cheating
                on Christmas Eve...



-- 
ralph@wixer.cactus.org
cactus.org!wixer!ralph
From: bkv2673@ritvax.isc.rit.edu (Miester aLster)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: naked trees are beautiful!
Date: 11 Nov 92 20:32:15 GMT
Reply-To: bkv2673@ritvax.isc.rit.edu
Organization: Rochester Institute of Technology

sorry....there was a mistake in "spirit"

	its threading branches

was what it should have been and not "it's threading branches"s

ok....i messed up....

- aL
  :(
Organization: Senior, Biology, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Date: Thu, 12 Nov 1992 13:52:03 -0500 
From: Sean Michael Colletta <sc4d+@andrew.cmu.edu>
Subject: I am here, God



		I am here, God.
		I suffer.
		In the world that I thought I wanted,
		I now face the pain
		of losing all that I once had,
		just to be with you.

		I have heard your silent sighing in the night,
		when you would come to me,
		and amidst all the ruination
		of my own mind, bring to me 
		a little light, a little warmth
		that wrapped around me 
		in electric song, and joy
		screamed forth in mindless cry!

		I have tasted the thrilling drop of wine
		when I realised, in the middle of my life,
		that you always give to me what I need,
		and no more to distract me,
		and that all that I have to lose is my desire to be
		my own.

		Such a thing to lose, God -
		one's own self.
		What is this thing 
		of nothing?
		What is this shadow 
		everyone lies cloaked in,
		sometimes bringing us pain
		and sometimes, I admit, pleasure,
		but always keeping us seperate,
		apart,
		alone?

		Yes, alone.
		Look at yourself and realise that you are alone
		in this world, no matter how many you know
		or how many like you,
		look in yourself and you find that no one else is there,
		that no one really shares your insides,
		that no one can hear and see as you do,
		no matter how hard they try,
		even a loved one can only come so close.

		And do not despair
		because we are really not alone,
		we have just forgotten how One
		we really are!
		The simplicity,
		sweet simplicity of life,
		estatic joke of life,
		we are all the heavens' treasure
		yet we walk about so seperate and alone!
		
		And so I suffer.
		I suffer to know this in more than just words,
		to live and breathe this
		to shine with joy
		to give love and happiness to the world
		because it is there, so there
		so bounding up inside us
		it takes such strong illusion to hold it back!
		I suffer because I am imperfect,
		human. The whole world is suffering,
		everyone in the world suffers 
		because humanity IS suffering.
		But such sweet suffering!
		It all ends in joy, 
		endless, endless joy -

		do not have pity on those that suffer and suffer for God -
			they are the lucky ones!




				Sean Colletta
From: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: 2 poems
Keywords: poems,poetry,poet,poesy,posies,posers,post-its,poverty
Date: 12 Nov 92 22:53:47 GMT
Reply-To: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Distribution: usa
Organization: Iowa State University

In article <1992Nov12.010438.19900@midway.uchicago.edu>,
dmcheste@quads.uchicago.edu (dennis michael chester) writes:
> 
> This is my first post. Ever. I hope it works out.  C&C is appreciated.        
> 
> 
> 	"Source"
> 
> 	Bukowski, Tom Waits, and Keith Richards are in
> 	a room with
> 	6 bottles of whiskey
> 	2 bullets
> 	and some cheap wine
> 
> 
> 	Buk calls me up
> 	when he gets down
> 	to the wine.
> 
> 
> 
> Enjoy,
>       D. Chester
> 	

Did everyone notice this?  Dennis, in his first post ever, not only avoided 
the mention of female eyes, he managed to work in a nice bit about MY VERY
OWN PERSONAL HERO Tom Waits.  Nice job, Dennis.  Thanks.


Marie Coffin
From: wprovinc@zeus.calpoly.edu (William E. Province)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: HELP NEEDED (Is poetry luxury?)
Date: 7 Nov 92 07:35:25 GMT
Organization: California Polytechnic State University, San Luis Obispo

casteley@phil.ruu.nl (Eric Casteleyn) writes:

> 
> 
>      hello once more,
> 
> 
>   I recently overheard someone say that poetry is a luxury item. In-
> tuitively I disagreed, but I've had some trouble putting together a 
> definitive article to prove him wrong. Maybe he was right. Maybe I'm
> stupid. I sincerely hope the latter.
>

   Luxury?  You must define this word.  Is it a luxury to be
able to hope?  Is it a luxury to be able to view just a bit
of beauty every once in a while?  Is it a luxury to be able
to express oneself in a manner befitting the thought to be
expressed?

   I can not speak for every one else, but for me, poetry is
a necessity.  I write poetry for the same reason that I learned
how to speak, and _only_ if you could consider speaking a 
luxury can you consider poetry a luxury.

  -- bill
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: gotzel@hydra.unm.edu (Paul Gotzel)
Subject: Re: lets give this a try
Date: Sun, 08 Nov 92 21:23:55 GMT
Organization: University of New Mexico, Albuquerque

In article <1992Nov2.042525.20517@midway.uchicago.edu> alk4@midway.uchicago.edu writes:
>More of this should happen.
>More poetry, that is.
>Should happen, I mean. 
>
>You sat down (or stood up for all I care)
>and bared your voice for us to do with as we please.
>
>I ate a few words, smiling.
>More things should be written barefoot, like that.
>
>Thank you.
>

Could the original author of this please send me the poem that 
prompted this reaction?  If the poem is 1/2 as good as the reaction I'd
be pleased. :)

						Paul, gotzel@hydra.unm.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems