HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: glj27240@uxa.cso.uiuc.edu (the cult of Carrie )
Subject: -
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Date: Wed, 8 Apr 1992 02:40:49 GMT

richh@tigger.jvnc.net (RICHH) writes:

>You know.  There's really no shame in *not* being a poet. 

'You are right, sir.' - to quote Studs Terkel (from his radio
show a couple years ago)

the liberation of no longer trying to fit into some tradition
(imagination of what a 'poet' is) is a lenitive death as
enticing as the salubrious miasma of that which one would think
we are trying to escape from.  but the other inhabitants of the
charnel are as continuous, as stably mute, and hence our ability
to hear with piercing clarity, as the whole field of what is
(presently, currently) contiguous.  if this sounds like a slowly
moving dirge, understand, only, that it is moving much more slowly
than the Chicago river.  still, it is the same current which we
might mis-take for a small frog; not quite the same.  dirne.  and
what else?  we wonder why this has taken us so long to discover.
others will not wonder.  but the sky, as we soon walk out, leave,
partir...to meet the buildings, will cause us to do just this:
wonder.  i am already doing it....  and have no reaction to its
quaintness....  except that there are sidewalks, chemins, paths
our olfactory senses are not up to par  but the smells will be
different.  Channel will not satisfy the emerging renifleur.
though perhaps offer a few silent evenings of succor.  otherwise,
alterwise, holy streams - some cold drink perhaps bring back
summer's nimble mansion; misquoted; like, perhpas, mistaking
Claire Trevor for Helen Twelvetrees.  impossible, you say....
but the bark of the Sycamore scratches my neck.  i had an appointment
once in a town but never received the invitation.  no matter if some-
day i can return, there, where i have never been, reticent son.  later,
much later, i did.... i no longer have the envelope.  which is why i
sit here, eating cranberries, in my room, i shot god when she walked
into the foyer in which i was standing, the fire, she would not have
been consumed, but i would save her anyway.... afterwards....  carrots.
on the counter-top.  the way sun-light sometimes illuminates kitchens
is beyond what human beings can complacently stand.  running the water.
washing vegetables.  un legume. (heh:  le parti pris des legumes....)
watching your children at gloaming play on the front lawn.... the large
door open.  an occasional breeze gusting in through the sceen one. 
gusting is rather disgusting -- mais les pumons gonflee comme de la
toile.... we could be blown half-way across the continent, or at least
down the street....  but the foul stench of the fields, the animal
feces.... is making me sick.  if it were only that, i wouldn't mind
so much i guess.  but those who spread it are sitting very close to me.

-- 
							 
                                                  the cult of Carrie
From: crystal@glia.biostr.washington.edu (crystal)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Everything is out of order
Date: 13 Apr 92 23:36:14 GMT
Organization: University of Washington

I posted 8 things...
My first post showed up as my second...
My last post showed up as my 4th (it should have been 9th)
My poetry is all out of order...
I wonder where this one will show up in the scheme of things?

I'm cornfuselfied!!!

Why aren't the posts in the order I typed them????

*pout*

Crystal
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: h309@ellis.uchicago.edu (Unknown Author)
Subject: Re: Warning!
Reply-To: h309@midway.uchicago.edu
Organization: Mindcrime
Date: Thu, 16 Apr 1992 19:55:31 GMT

In article <9204161919.AA16599@ucbvax.Berkeley.EDU> CCPHIL@UMCVMB.MISSOURI.EDU (Phil Leith) writes:
>
>  Warning
>  -------
>
>fish swimming
>currents free
>undulating pattern
>up ahead
>hypnotizing
>mezmerizing
>closer closer
>all engulfing
>all consuming
>life passes
>text lines
>before your
>eyes
>WAKE UP!!!
>don't get
>too
>wrapped up
>in the
>net
>     pgl 4/16/92
   "WAKE UP" ???

Kinda sounds like a ripoff of Jim Morrison to me...... >8)


-- 
Blah, Blah .....
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: klaw@ecst.csuchico.edu (Almighty Nodens the Master of the Elder Sign)
Subject: Re: My first post (warning: I'm prolific!)
Keywords: fear
Organization: California State University, Chico
Date: Wed, 15 Apr 1992 06:41:58 GMT

Just a suggestion not to be mean or anything,

My penis shouts
what my lips
fear to say

...

Catchy, eh?

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: crystal@glia.biostr.washington.edu (crystal)
Subject: The Ladder
Organization: University of Washington
Date: Tue, 14 Apr 1992 14:41:28 GMT

 
An old one from 11th grade:
 
They say your goal should exceed your grasp,
That it's doubtful you'll ever reach yours
For on the ladder of life and success
There's always a troublesome rung,
the slippery step that causes the fall.

And when you fall, you're shaken
But determination says to you
To climb back up and try again
But all too soon you reach that spot
That sends you tumbling down.

Try, try again, if you don't suceed at first,
There just may be a way to pass
That laborious troublesome step.
Try as you must and think a while
Soon you will find something worth a trial.
 
If you cut off that rung
You're minus a step
And the one above becomes harder to reach
So you tumble back down
To where you were in the beginning.
 
Replace that rung with an easier step
And then upon matering THAT feat
You find the next one also hard to take
So again you slice one off
And replace it with a different one.
 
But you'll never reach your star
That one highest goal
For as you replace each difficult step
And climb on nearer the top
New steps are being added, old ones taken away.
 
There is always someone below you
Jealous of your height
Who'll cut that ladder down
As you near the top
If YOU don't do it first!
 
School Year - 1971
 Crystal
  
 
I hadn't read this before typing it in.  It's AWFUL... :<  But what I find
interesting is how wellI understood 12-step recovery way back before I'd even
known of such things... And I'm guilty of cutting steps... ;>  Oh, well...I
like the rung I'm on!  ;>
From: alvin@ucsu.Colorado.EDU (Kenneth Alvin)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Cartagena
Date: 14 Apr 92 15:57:06 GMT
Article-I.D.: ucsu.1992Apr14.155706.8158
Organization: University of Colorado, Boulder



Cartagena
---------


Stumbling down a back alley
in desolate Cartagena,
drunk on sleep,
the piano songs
of latin lounge dragons
ring without treble
through the thin back walls
of the cantinas.
I pick through
my wallet
no money
only a precious
birth certificate
and addresses of
fifty close friends,
now thousands of
miles away.
The nights of
drunken laughter
tequilla parties
till dawn are gone also,
spent like pesos.
I walk another block,
walk without direction,
stuck in the roundabout rhythm
of the late night melody.


comments, criticism welcome...
-Ken
alvin@ucsu.colorado.edu
From: donz@ui.org (Don Zirilli)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Unicorn poem
Date: 14 Apr 92 14:32:09 GMT
Organization: UNIX International, Parsippany, NJ

Hello, gang.  I was getting kind of depressed at the lack of Unicorn poems
on rap.  One has to go through at least a thousand non-Unicorn poems before
he can find such.  Anyway, to help relieve the depression, I will submit
one I just created.  

And please, once you've finished a poem, take a good hard look at it.  Does
it have unicorns in it?  If not, perhaps you should rewrite it before
posting.  Just imagine how much better rap could be if we just tried a
little harder.

The Unicorn


The weight of your white fur
drags me down,
drags me down.

Take me, corn, each golden kernel,
form a ripple
I can feel.

From my mother's downy pillow
this comb of silver
I did steal.

I groom you, magnificent, as you polish my horn.



p.s. doug, if you posted a poem in our "truly awful love poem" duel, I did
not see it.  Technical problems on my end.  Could this have something to do
with your foul mood two weeks ago?  Please believe me, I am hopelessly out
of touch with the rest of rap.  Only get offended if I do not respond to
EMAIL.  If you did not post a poem, then I win by default and you must get
on your knees...
-- 
nobody/not even the rain/              	/	   /      /  /    
 /   /   /     /   /   / /     /       /    /    // /    /  /         /    
/     / / /   /   /     /   / /    / /   / / /  /  /   /      /      /
   / /   /   /	/	 / /      //    /   / /     / /      / / /
From: leat-a@minster.york.ac.uk
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Alternative Views
Date: 9 Apr 92 14:14:21 GMT
Organization: Department of Computer Science, University of York, England


				Alternative Views
				=================











For me in my darkest hour.
From: ktw@cbnewsb.cb.att.com (Ken Wolman)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: TERPIN HYDRATE
Date: 17 Apr 92 15:08:13 GMT
Organization: AT&T


 
      TERPIN HYDRATE

      This is an ugly admission--for I am
      48 years old, and in the face that
      stares at me each morning, graying,
      signs of what will be now creep into my face
      like my kids used to creep into our room
      to surprise us on weekends long ago--

      but I admit that to this day and night
      I miss my drugging days of long ago:
      not the fictional construct of Time Remembered,
      or Days Gone By, but the thing itself:

      sauntering into a scuzzy drugstore
      on Ogden Avenue for a two-buck
      bottle of terpin hydrate and codeine:
      signing the Controlled Substance register
      as D. Duck or with my dead father's name,
      (not yet the name of my living son),

      and going home to pour half the bottle
      into a glass and choke it down, mumble
      ``Oh true apothecary! thy drugs are quick,''
      then sit chainsmoking Pall Malls, listening
      to Gordon Lightfoot and Jussi Bjoerling,

      neither wondering nor caring that one day
      I would miss the fact that I used not to care
      about the difference between what I am
      and what I am.

Kenneth Wolman, April 17, 1992
-- 
Ken Wolman   AT&T Bell Laboratories   (201)564-2866   ktw@hlwpk.att.com
	"Stare.  It is the way to educate your eye, and more.  
	Stare, pry, listen, eavesdrop.  Die knowing something.  
	You are not here long." -- Walker Evans
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: glj27240@uxa.cso.uiuc.edu (the cult of Carrie )
Subject: not on a book (Girard & Derrida)
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Date: Fri, 17 Apr 1992 02:18:05 GMT

this follows the comment directing some fellow to Girard in order
to forget Derrida or some such.  there seems no need.

apparently, there is a book (it is right in front of me in fact) by
Andrew J. McKenna entitled _Violence and Difference_  Girard, Derrida,
and Deconstruction. (University of Illinois Press, Urbana and Chicago,
c. 1992, printed on acid-free paper).  i haven't read it of course,
so here's where the apparently comes in:  apparently there's no need
to give up one for the other when here, between two covers, one can
see the both of 'em, side by side, as they say:  likely with their
limbs all tangled and intertwined.  but rather than think their
individual and collective poses and postures and bears signifying
something like a wrestling match:  let's say they are merely, here,
playing a game a twister, with McKenna calling out the colours....

as for myself, i think i have some Dr. Geisel to read.  i will not
read Girard & Derrida - i will not read them in the library, i will
not read them on the bus. i will not read them in my room, i will not
read them on the moon...     however, i might read them in the park
down the street from my house on the first Nice Day After Easter...
- who knows?

sorry if all of this is old hat. 
-- 
							 
                                                  the cult of Carrie
From: dfs30@duts.ccc.amdahl.com (Denise Solis)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: it got hot here last saturday!  // wlod  1992-04-12/13
Keywords: from wlod not tom
Date: 15 Apr 92 14:46:21 GMT
Reply-To: dfs30@DUTS.ccc.amdahl.com (PUT YOUR NAME HERE)
Organization: Amdahl Corporation, Sunnyvale CA

In article <1992Apr15.084221.11779@canon.co.uk> wlodek%wiltel@uunet.uu.net writes:
>
>
>(reply to wlod not tom)
>

                    Yeah! Wlod is back!

--
=========================================================================
  All poetry posted is Copyright protected, anything else is just talk.
  "Tis true; theres magic in the web of it." dfs30@DUTS.ccc.amdahl.com
=========================================================================
From: Ralph.Cherubini@f10.n382.z1.FidoNet.Org (Ralph Cherubini)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Poem--Memorial Error
Date: 7 Apr 92 13:29:09 GMT


                        Memorial Error

 

On TV the other day,

they made a mistake,

gave full seven minutes, thirty

of clear, blank screen,

I took it as a memorial to my late grandfather,

while I waited for him to arrive.

 

 


 * Origin: Connect America #1, multiline, 512-459-3351 (1:382/10.0)
From: wlodek%wiltel@uunet.uu.net (Wlodzimierz Holsztynski)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: it got hot here last saturday!  // wlod  1992-04-12/13
Summary: from wlod not tom
Keywords: from wlod not tom
Date: 15 Apr 92 08:42:21 GMT
Reply-To: wlodek%wiltel@uunet.uu.net
Organization: Canon Research Centre Europe Ltd
Remark: the subject line is just a remark

=




		dear what?
		----------------------
		
		 you call me "dear Vlod"
		better send me a song
		 your razor wits shine
		send me a line to slash wrists
		
		i used to be a monkey
		living in a wisdom tree
		i used to rhyme "be" with "me"
		
		then i was a broken dish
		sending out of sync
		echoes from the end
		of the electronic world
		
		if i have no flesh
		how caloric should i be
		to create reality?
		
		sand invades my ports
		
		
						H.Texas
						1992-04-12/13


(reply to wlod not tom)


-- 

Tom Wachtel (wachtel@canon.co.uk)
From: wachtel@canon.co.uk (Tom Wachtel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: as you turn and
Date: 14 Apr 92 16:39:00 GMT
Reply-To: wachtel@canon.co.uk
Organization: Canon Research Centre Europe Ltd

=


	as you turn and don't quite reach
	you reach and don't quite touch
	you're much too this or maybe that
	I like your auburn glow
	I like your song
	you sing so low
	your shadow shines
	you show

-- 

Tom Wachtel (wachtel@canon.co.uk)
From: gilligan6855@iscsvax.uni.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: life lessons taught by one bird
Date: 17 Apr 92 15:38:19 -0500
Organization: University of Northern Iowa

##******* yet another thought that came to me while waiting*********

the windows of the art building
are mirrored
so that while on the inside
one can see the world 
and more
but from the outside
the world only sees
its own reflection

this confuses the birds
which nest nearby

it is spring
and so the birds 
are curious lovesick creatures

and they hurl themselves against the glass
trying to mate with their own reflections
in a world so backwards
yet so like their own

while i stand on the other side,
panickstruck,
pressing my palms against the glass
as though to break it

and set one bird free

**something to think about**
at night the windows are a mirror on the inside
and i wonder--
do the birds gather
to watch our futile bashings
and not care?



*****
care
*all responses, however small, are welcome*

"i'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance"
                         e.e. cummings   *
                        *  *        *
                     *  *     *           *
              *            *      *      *
                     *
                              *
From: webdw@cbnews.cb.att.com (bruce.d.woods)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: The two planets
Date: 16 Apr 92 15:35:17 GMT
Article-I.D.: cbnews.1992Apr16.153517.28924
Distribution: na
Organization: AT&T

In article <rizzojp.703436742@craft.camp.clarkson.edu> rizzojp@craft.camp.clarkson.edu (Jon Rizzo) writes:
>>>P.S. If someone reads this who knows what the word is that means to give 
>>>     human attributes to inanimate objects is please tell me, its really 
>>>     bugging me that I can't remember the word.
>
>>				     
>>       The word I believe is "anthropomorphism"
>
>
>>    Kumar
>
>
>No, I believe the word is personification
>
>-jon
>
NO - Kumar is correct, the word to characterize the interpretation
of what is not human in terms of human characteristics is:
anthropomorphism.  The word to describe the attribution of human
feelings to something not human is called: anthropopathism.  The
logical fallacy that ascribes human traits or feelings to in-
antimate or non-human subjects is known as the pathetic fallacy.
From: rhh@alice.att.com (r hardin)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: The Business of Poetry
Date: 14 Apr 92 01:25:01 GMT
Article-I.D.: alice.22567
Organization: AT&T Bell Laboratories, Murray Hill NJ



>>One of the tricks for the fantasy of inexpressiveness, the inventor
>>friend and his robot, who almost ``feels'' ``pain'', we've really
>>got it down pretty good now, watch this!  etc


>Of course.  And this is inevitable tho the deployment is, at least,
>self-reflexive.  This is the beginning of a way out -- to see what
>is done.  Chances are the prop will then use you the same way --
>conditioned by what you have made him for you.  Still, you do nothing for
>whatever and whoever is "described" by the "prop" -- except deplore
>the way he is used to justify using him that way.

Yes, seeing what is done! But with such opposite results, you see
a politics, I see the levers of rhetoric: if you change this, then
it seems like this, and if you change that, then it seems like that.

The experiment has to do with skepticism in philosophy; there is
one with respect to objects, and one with respect to others; this is
the latter.

Unlike the object skepticism, you can actually live an other-skepticism.
So the investigation is, how is it started, and how is it stopped; how
do you get into it, how out of it.  This is in Stanley Cavell's
The Claim of Reason

If you say, No! No! there are actually people who are manipulated just
as your literary experiments manipulate their (other) people, this is all part
of that, then I wonder what kind of fantasy of inexpressiveness it
is you are having.

Cavell is interested in responsibility, he knows that language
is first of all an ethical relation.  He ends in a politics, he doesn't
start in one.

You dismiss him too quickly.
From: denelsbe@washington.cs.unc.edu (Kevin Denelsbeck)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Naive Atalanta
Keywords: Little Sonnet
Date: 17 Apr 92 13:00:09 GMT

A "Little Sonnet" for y'all, in the tradition of John Donne:


		Naive Atalanta

	There is no finish line for us;
	  Perfection cannot be achieved
	  (Though once, as children, we believed
	  In happy endings with no fuss).
	There's more to Love than hug and buss:
	  Forgiving blunders when you're peeved;
	  Acknowledging what you've received;
	  Discerning what you must discuss.
	So therefore, we make partial peace
	(A shadow of what waits above)
	Aware that there is no surcease
	From polishing our makeshift love.
	  Pure Love's a quest there's no surviving --
	  But (nonetheless) one worth the striving.


----------
Kev @ UNC
4/17/92
-- 
Kev @ UNC (denelsbe@cs.unc.edu)

	We demand... 40 million helicopters, and a dollar!
				-- Gen. Chow, _Dinosaurs_
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: frank@IASTATE.EDU (Frank A Poduska)
Subject: Re: Veldt Sonnet (revision)
Reply-To: frank@IASTATE.EDU (Frank A Poduska)
Organization: Iowa State University
Date: Wed, 15 Apr 1992 13:54:52 GMT

In article <11303@borg.cs.unc.edu>, denelsbe@washington.cs.unc.edu (Kevin
Denelsbeck) writes:
> I posted a sonnet a few weeks ago that got a couple of specific responses,
> each concerned with the closing couplet (a lot of alliteration in my

I remember I didn't like your original ending. This one is delightful.

> "take two":
> 
> 		Veldt Sonnet
> 
>         "Give me a signal when you're ready," she said
>         "Okay," I answered, as I surveyed the ground
>         Then, with a glance (and a nod of my head)
>         I pushed down the plunger and blew up the mound.
> 
>         Millions of termites instantly dead
>         Chunks of their castle scattered around
>         Intricate masonry suddenly spread
>         Into dust, with a boom, and a settling sound.
> 
>         Silence ensued as the particles fled
>         Explosively freed from what insects had bound
>         Aimlessly following where the wind led
>         (And the wind is a monarch that madness has crowned).
> 
> 	A moral: even a miniature mansion
> 	Should always allow for rapid expansion.
> 

Now, if I could just get "Twas the Night before Christmas' out of my ears:
>         Then, with a glance (and a nod of my head)
>         I pushed down the plunger and blew up the mound.

--
Frank Poduska                 frank@iastate.edu
From: dbeacham@willamette.edu (Daniel Beacham)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: here's lookin at U
Date: 10 Apr 92 10:55:43 GMT
Article-I.D.: willamet.1992Apr10.105543.3309
Organization: Willamette University, Salem, OR


	O Sheila, I am touched at your sudden change in heart.  Why don't
	your shiny aluminum teeth grin at my screen every morning any
	more?  Where are the coathangers that pull your lips into the
	same flawless smile, the marbles in your pockets, the devil-may
	care pigtails and pink nail polish?  Shiny happy people have to
	blow off steam once in a while too, no?

	Give it a rest, you should not take it upon yourself to think that
	nasty mean ol' jabolliger was talking about you; she could have 
	addressed that to any of the flower drones on this network.
From: crystal@glia.biostr.washington.edu (crystal)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: My first post (warning: I'm prolific!)
Keywords: fear
Date: 17 Apr 92 03:30:52 GMT
Organization: University of Washington

In <1992Apr15.064158.5279@ecst.csuchico.edu> klaw@ecst.csuchico.edu (Almighty Nodens the Master of the Elder Sign) writes:

>Just a suggestion not to be mean or anything,

>My penis shouts
>what my lips
>fear to say

>...

>Catchy, eh?
Yep!  Hope it's not contagious!  ;>

(Lots of truth in that for some folks though... *wink*)
 

One of my discarded lines in "The Entertainer"

"A juggler can only reach as far as his balls"

That wasn't QUITE what I intended the poem to say, so I changed it... maybe I
shouldn't have??? ;>
From: afdenis@lims02.lerc.nasa.gov (Stephen Dennison)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: The Desederata (Both Versions)
Date: 14 Apr 92 16:35:00 GMT
Article-I.D.: lims02.14APR199211350107
Organization: Ancient Souls Inc.
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41

OK, so my first post to this group *might* be a little inappropriate, I'm 
not sure, but anyway ...

Could someone *please* e-mail me the text of the Desederata (I know there's 
a `i' in there somewhere, but I can't remember the spelling any better than 
I can remember the words... :-))

I need it for a seminar I'm doing with some physically/mentally challanged 
children.  I'm going to use it to teach the concept of `Different' equals 
`Special', not `Weird'.  I would really appreciate any help here.

P.S. One of the kids, recovering from a closed-head injury, has a problem 
with `input' (has trouble reading and comprehending) but *writes* some of 
the most awesome `emotion' poems and essays I have ever seen.  They're a 
little `graphic', but the imagery is stunning.  If anyone would be 
interested in seeing some neat 16-year old thoughts, I'll get his 
permission and post some of it.  *That* would help boost his self-esteem in 
and of itself, and any positive feed back you give him after reading it, 
I'll pass on to him.

Thanks in advance, 

-- Stephen 

(The only two valid e-mail addresses from now on are ...)
afdenis@lims01.lerc.nasa.gov,  afdenis@lims02.lerc.nasa.gov
.. boring .sig follows, press n to skip it.

	Never regret a *choice*.  Rather, save your regrets for the
	choices you *didn't* make.
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems