HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: ekankaan@kaira.hut.fi (Eero Kankaanp{{)
Subject: limpid pools of beer revisited
Organization: the dead zone
   
   like someone,
   sowed a sigh on my cloak
   i wore it over my head
Date: Sun, 24 Jan 1993 03:52:20 GMT

   smoke carried away by the portier
   cigarettes lit the way through

   smile ripped thorugh stale clothes
   and cadense of fists hammering

   smile, hair cascade played lightly 
   on her piano key lips i wanted to touch and kiss harmonics
From: paleblue@byron.u.washington.edu (Hermes)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: kangaroo
Date: 22 Jan 1993 15:16:15 GMT
Organization: University of Washington, Seattle
NNTP-Posting-Host: byron.u.washington.edu


Kangaroo Conga

I want a kangaroo to love me
I want a kangaroo to hug me
I want to do kangaroo conga
until his big feet fall off
PLOP PLOP

-Hermes
-- 
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT  Theresa "Hermes" Bock
TTTTTTT_____    _____TTTTTTT
TTTTTTTTTTTT    TTTTTTTTTTTT  paleblue@byron.u.washington.edu  
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
From: dah@cveng121.veheng.det (Dewane A. Hall)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: IN LOVE
Date: 27 Jan 93 14:29:20 GMT
Reply-To: dah@cveng121.veheng.det
Organization: Sun Microsystems, Inc.


	BEING IN LOVE DOESN'T HAVE TO MAKE SENSE

I have eyes but cannot see another.
I have ears but cannot hear another.
I have a nose but cannot smell another.
I have a tongue but cannot taste another.
I have hands but cannot feel another.
Being in love doesn't have to make sense.

	by DAHCASS 1/26/93

Please C&C. Thanks.
-----------------------------------------
If you don't know, you better ask somebody.
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Fascination (C & C welcome)
From: sl870@mars.ee.usu.edu (Ullas Gargi)
Date: 23 Jan 93 22:32:40 MDT
Distribution: world

Fascination


As a penny on the ground
in a crowded street
to a miser

As a dagger in the hand
of a dangerous man
to his victim

As a vessel full of milk
rising to the boil
to the housewife

As error in an argument
forcefully presented
to a debater

As blood in the corner
of his opponent's eye
to a boxer

As a fly on a table
rubbing, mincing
to a swatter-wielder

As a jeweled ornament
on a lovely limb
to a thief

Is your body to me.


        - Ullas Gargi

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: sheilah@wam.umd.edu (Danny-Boy)
Subject: Poetry, A Natural Thing
Organization: University of Maryland, College Park
Date: Fri, 22 Jan 1993 15:10:41 GMT

This is a poem by Robert Duncan that has an image in it that I like.


	POETRY A NATURAL THING

    Neither our vices nor our virtues
further the poem.  "They came up
    and died
just like they do every yera
    on the rocks."

    The poem
feeds upon thought, feeling, impulse,
    to breed   itself,
a spiritual urgencey at the dark ladders leaping,

This beauty is an inner persistence
    toward the source
striving against (within) down-rushet of the rivr,
    a call we heard and answer
in the lateness of the world
    primordial bellowings
from which te yongest world ight sprin,

salmon not in the well where the
    hazelnut falls
but at the falls battling, inarticulate,
    blindly making it.

This is one picture apt for the mind.



A second: a moose painted by Stubbs,
where last year's extravagant antlers
   lie on the ground.
The forlorn moosey-faced poem wears
   new antler-buds,
   the same,

"a little heavy, a ltitle contrived",

his only beauty to be
   all moose.



I'm not sure which book this is from, I've copied it off a ditto
sheet.

-- 
I am always wrong. Don't believe me ever.
stark raving sane  sheilah@wam.umd.edu
Organization: Bar-Ilan University Computing Center, Israel
Date: Sun, 24 Jan 1993 12:18:54 IST
From: <X67107@BARILVM.BITNET>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: kangaroo

>Kangaroo Conga                       Killer Kangaroo Cognitius

 I want a kangaroo to love me         I want a killer kangaroo to hit me
 I want a kangaroo to hug me          I want a killer kangaroo to beat me
 I want to do kangaroo conga          I too, want to do
                                           what Killer Kangaroo Cognitius
 until his big feet fall off          would do untill his mean feet fall off
 PLOP PLOP                            (or better still are cut off) Hack Hack

 -Hermes                                 -The Dark One
+--------------------------------------------------------------------+
+------------------------  Axiomatic Avartar ------------------------+
+-----------       The Darkest Incarnation of Death     -------------+
+--------------------------------------------------------------------+
From: satan@bigwpi.WPI.EDU (Matt Meyer)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: silly haiku
Date: 21 Jan 1993 17:53:48 GMT
Organization: Worcester Polytechnic Institute
Distribution: world
NNTP-Posting-Host: bigwpi.wpi.edu



and now...hardly in the original spirit of haiku (i think)


		in lieu of a word
		to express this lurid feel
		i offer segue


					Matt Meyer Copyright 1993

C&C and flames welcomed
-- 
*******************************************************************************
* satan@wpi *Preacher or poet who was it wrote Give any one species too much 
*           *rope And they'll fuck it up.    - Roger Waters   
*******************************************************************************
From: hseung@optronics.anatomy.upenn.edu (Rebecca H. Seung)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: You're back!
Date: 26 Jan 1993 18:29:06 -0600
Organization: University of Pennsylvania
NNTP-Posting-Host: cs.utexas.edu


Every now and then someone unheard of accuses me
Sooner I eat the better I feel
Yet, just when I loose you
You crawl back in
To the temple of SCK
To the corner of my cage
My freedom and my boredom, you take them all away

It's not 'cause of shrimp-addiction that cause me to puke
With humble desire I hop, step, and jump
And, just when I find you
I stuff myself
To the salty dream
To the bottom of my dream
I munch you and pinch you till you vanish away


Rebecca H. Seung
From: e37larsen@skyfox
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: On Forbidden Lusts
Date: 27 Jan 93 03:02:21 GMT
Organization: University of Saskatchewan
NNTP-Posting-Host: sask.usask.ca


The Good Old Days
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wouldn't it be nice
If we could all return
To those days when all
Were as pure as spice?

You married as a virgin,
Though just turned 16.
And you stayed together forever,
Though everyday were beaten.

Ah, yes...
The days of old,
When women couldn't vote,
Or really even speak!

Everything was much, much better.
No sex before matrimony,
And no enjoyment afterwards...
Yes, 'twas a wonderful time.

No worries about desires,
When you grew into such things,
There was only your spouse,
Who killed them quick!

Indeed,
Those were the days!

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

        To solve the problem with AIDS, it would be impossible to go back to
the 19th century "moral" code.  How would you like your child (or even yourself)married at 16?  That is indeed a way of negating physical desires.  It's a greatconcept, but I'm afraid it won't work.  It didn't then (see the amount of
prostitution that was done... as much as now, only they were in brothels, not onthe streets), and it certainly won't work now as anything more than an
individual choice.


Trina L. Larsen
E37Larsen@sask.usask.ca
Organization: The American University - University Computing Center
Date: Fri, 22 Jan 1993 20:21:04 EST
From: Patrick Barton <PB5329A@auvm.american.edu>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Dreams of Forever (C + C welcome)

                        Dreams of Forever

These are the times to remember, the dreams of our lives,
When you don't know who to turn to, you turn to your dreams,
Dreams are there forever; like the people that you love,
But dreams will never leave you, will never hurt...

So cling to those dreams, and love them with all your might,
And never give them up, for anybody, or anything,
For one who would ask you to forsake those dreams,
Is not someone who cares for you, who loves you, as those dreams do...

Dreams care the most, for they depend on you,
And without them, you'd be lost, alone, in a world of despair,
So think now of those dreams, as you go to sleep,
And forever you'll be happy, content to speak...

Continue to enjoy life, for life is what is there,
But never leave your dreams, who knows what might happen,
Someday your dreams may just come true.

              Finis.

by Patrick S. Barton
From: gt7244c@prism.gatech.EDU (John G'alt)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: > Damn the Onions < / Lichter
Summary: (repost by G'alt)
Keywords: Elmer Fudd version!
Date: 23 Jan 93 15:28:36 GMT
Organization: Georgia Tech


		Damn de Onions!
		-----------------------------------------

		Caww me Pawswey.
		Get it?
		"Caww me Pawswey"?
		Ha-ha-ha!

		I'm an actow.
		Daytime, I wait tabwes
		at a Bevewwy Hiwws dewi.
		Nights, I'm mysewf, an awtist.
		Pawswey.  In Tabouwi.

		You peopwe, you
		don't GIVE A SHIT about
		weaw awt, do you?
		I mean a shit, a weaw
		physicaw fwoating in
		de toiwet shit.
		Heww, you wouwdn't 
		know weaw awt if it
		jumped up and bit you
		in de FUCKING ASS!

		You peopwe kiww me.
		I mean, witewawwy, you
		peopwe kiww me dead.
		Evewy night I'm pewfowming,
		I'm wowking my fucking 
		ass off fow you, being
		Pawswey in de Tabouwi,
		Pawswey in de goddamn Tabouwi.
		You dink I wike dat
		vuwgaw buwgaw wheat?  Dose 
		wimpy onions?  And dose 
		fucking tomatoes awe 
		so fucking fuww of demsewves 
		it's fucking widicuwous!  
		But de kickew, de weaw KICKEW
		is being doused wif 
		goddamn oiw and WEMON JUICE!

		It's not dat I don't 
		wike being pawt of a sawad.
		I wike sawad.  It's coopewation, 
		gwobaw hawmony in a boww, 
		a swewwing symphonic movement.
		It's sensous, wike you want
		to take a swim in it wid
		youw wovew and den fuck
		on a watew bed, de two of
		you spawkwing wif bits of
		wheat pasted in youw haiw,
		and you going up and down
		in waves, swipping and swoshing,
		youw own sticky sawad.

		And dat's awt, you
		dumbshits.  Oh, dat scwewy wabbit!   Dat's AWT.
		Caww me Pawswey.
		Ha!

			Michaew Wichtew
			Januawy 22, 1993

-- 
John focking G'awt        Geowgia Tech        gt7244c@pwism.gatech.edu
 i weawwy weawwy do wish dat some peopwe wouwd eidew shut up dese days
 ow ewse be vewy, vewy qwiet west i hunt dem down and fwame deiw bawd
 nuts.  Oh, dat scwewy wabbit!
From: zwelethu@acs.bu.edu (Peter Carr)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: two one-word poems
Date: 25 Jan 93 07:40:39 GMT
Organization: Boston University, Boston, MA, USA
Originator: zwelethu@acs.bu.edu


          Poem One.
          ---------



          lighght


             - by Saroyan ( I believe)




          Poem Two.
          ---------



          orange



             - almost uttered by Joyce Carol Oates,
               in an article about food in a recent
               edition of Antaeus.


-- 
Peter J. Carr
zwelethu@acs-bu.edu    (or)
carrp@cme.nist.gov
From: bethp@milton.u.washington.edu (Beth Plotkin)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: HELP: Name/Complete that Poem!
Date: 24 Jan 93 17:46:14 GMT
Organization: University of Washington
NNTP-Posting-Host: milton.u.washington.edu
Summary: HELP: Name/complete that poem!
Keywords: help, complete, name, poem

Can someone complete or give me a reference to a poem
about sailing that includes the following lines (more or less!):


Various stanzas omitted....


We sailed the sea for seven years
And nary saw a whale
......
But we had a darn good sail


Thanks in advance for your help!

bethp@milton.acs.washington.edu
From: trish_r@mind.ORG (Trish Rucker)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Louise Gluck: Two Poems
Date: Tue, 26 Jan 93 14:31:36 -0500
Organization: Fortress Development HQ

I really like Gluck's poetry, too.   I particularly like the last few 
lines of "Palais ..."    Who are some of your other favorite poets?   I'm 
reading a wonderful book of poetry, called FATE, by Ai.
From: gt7244c@prism.gatech.EDU (John G'alt)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: black widow / crawford
Summary: c&c please
Date: 21 Jan 93 04:19:11 GMT
Organization: Georgia Tech

this is a poem by a friend of mine nearby...
c&c please if something strikes you to do so...
**************************************************

   Black Widow

She mates,
  She kills,
All can be lost in her passionate embrace.

So it is with me...

All could be lost
  if you, my victim, my temptation, come to me.

So it is with She...

I do not want to kill your friendship,
But that may be the price of the touch you seek.
I do not know.

All can be lost in her embrace.

So it is with me.

 -- Jennifer Crawford
    January 20, 1993

******
long live those with long lives - g'alt
-- 
John G'alt (no, not the person!)
Go defecate in the river and flagellate through the woods....
(That is if you really want to annoy Thoreau!)
FishNet: gt7244c@prism.gatech.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jondarr@macadam.mpce.mq.edu.au (jondarr c g h 2 gibb)
Subject: Chill in a Heart
Summary: for Reagan
Organization: Macquarie University, Australia.
Date: Thu, 21 Jan 1993 22:34:49 GMT


        Chill in a Heart

There's a chill in a heart from a love that's grown cold
and a story well known that's still got to be told
about a guy and a girl and a love to survive
in this troublesome world - I wonder if you're alive
if you don't understand all their problems and strife:
are you a mouse or a man? Come on, guy, get a life!

So we're chilling away and the cold is inside,
'cause the man's got a plan, but the woman's got pride,
she won't take all his love and take's no-one's advice,
so if you try and melt her, she's not cold - she is ice!
So the guy is a fool to try for winning her heart,
because the girl's too cool - who says this guy was so smart?

So there he is, in the cold, calling to his Juliet,
he's not some Romeo - she'll never let him forget
what he had put her through - you see, his slate's not so clean,
he says "I want you back," she says "What else do you dream?"
So he's stuck out on a limb and just reciting his rhyme -
I'd like to tell it to you, but love just ran out of time.

				20th January, 1993


No change, Reagan. No change.

                    
              Anyway the wind blows ...
                                                //\         /\\
                             /                 || * \ . . / * ||
               .  _   _   _/  _   _  _          \\____\X/____//
              / /_/ / / /_/ /-/ /  /             / *  /O\  * \
          ._/                                    \__/  "  \__/

jondarr@macadam.mpce.mq.edu.au  (137.111.216.12)
jondarr@mpce.mq.edu.au
jondarr@macgraw.mpce.mq.edu.au

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: siegle@ils.nwu.edu (Greg Siegle)
Subject: mechanistic dissection      / Greg S
Organization: The Institute for the Learning Sciences
Distribution: usa
Date: Fri, 22 Jan 1993 21:31:24 GMT

I am the psychotherapist.  Please, describe your problems.  Each time
you are finished talking, type RET twice.

--> I am abandoned, a shadow of a man with a spent dream

Why do you say that?

--> I have seen bright sunsets and each has ended in darkness.

I don't understand.

--> You are lucky, my friend.

Maybe your plans have something to do with this.

--> Plans, you say. I have no plans as I serve completion's every whim.

Is it because of your life that you are going through all this?

--> More specifically, my spent contribution to this glorious essence 
--> our universe.

Are you afraid of that?

--> It touches my soul.

How do you reconcile the people you hang around with?

--> I am a hermit, consigned loneliness by destiny itself.

What makes you believe that?

--> Destiny has pointed its finger at me and I have crawled willingly
--> under its nail.

I don't understand.

--> I am a slave.

Perhaps this has something to do with problems at school?

--> Actually, you're right. So I got a B. I'll deal with it. Thanks. Bye.

My secretary will send you a bill.


               -- Greg and Eliza
From: satan@wpi.WPI.EDU (Matt Meyer)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: two one-word poems
Date: 25 Jan 1993 12:11:11 GMT
Organization: Worcester Polytechnic Institute
NNTP-Posting-Host: wpi.wpi.edu

In article <108180@bu.edu> zwelethu@acs.bu.edu (Peter Carr) writes:
>
>          Poem One.
>          ---------
>
>
>
>          lighght
>
>
>             - by Saroyan ( I believe)
>
>
>
>
>          Poem Two.
>          ---------
>
>
>
>          orange
>
>
>
>             - almost uttered by Joyce Carol Oates,
>               in an article about food in a recent
>               edition of Antaeus.
>
>
>-- 
>Peter J. Carr
>zwelethu@acs-bu.edu    (or)
>carrp@cme.nist.gov
>

forgive me for my literary forgetfullness, but sometime in some
literary movement this following poem was published

			W
		------------------


			W


				- author fogotten (by me, that is)


the movement was a rebellion against the 'poetic establishment'
i don't remeber any of the details


-satan


-- 
*******************************************************************************
* satan@wpi *Preacher or poet who was it wrote Give any one species too much 
*           *rope And they'll fuck it up.    - Roger Waters   
*******************************************************************************
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: James.Rogers@launchpad.unc.edu (James Edward Rogers)
Subject: A new (untitled) poem from a RAP newbie
Summary: None really 
Organization: University of North Carolina Extended Bulletin Board Service
Date: Sat, 23 Jan 1993 17:40:37 GMT

Go easy on me; this is my first posting.

***
Can any cheap metaphor (tower of mighty gray)
Describe the Matterhorn (magnificence soaring)
better than (into the limitless sky..)
several million (abscissa ordinate slope)
numbers can? (hue value chroma)
How about God ? (aleph-aleph-aleph-aleph-...)
LIfe?  (C6H12O6, H2O)
You? (One)
Me? (Two)

***

C&C, either public or private, eminently welcome, previous message
notwithstanding.
					-James Rogers

--
   The opinions expressed are not necessarily those of the University of
     North Carolina at Chapel Hill, the Campus Office for Information
        Technology, or the Experimental Bulletin Board Service.
           internet:  laUNChpad.unc.edu or 152.2.22.80
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: hcorbett@pattie.wellesley.edu
Subject: opinions...
Organization: WELLESLEY COLLEGE
Date: Tue, 26 Jan 1993 10:58:54 GMT

I simply can NOT let TWO flames on Marek go by without making
some comment. Anyone who is puerile enough to include all of
Marek's five-page-plus poem in his five-line reply doesn't even
deserve to use the computer until he grows up a little, and only
makes a fool out of himself to boot. Marek was an established 
contributor when I started looking in on r.a.p. three years ago
(or was it four?), and I have already encouraged him NOT to shut
up because his poetry is and has been simply fantastic. May I suggest
to him that he has run s touch prolix on the Haircut poem, and that
a trim there would also yield attractive results and cost less money.

So there.

I also wanted to commend Hermes' "My Trip" (but maybe change the
title?), Bing H Bang's poem which is lovely and maybe unfinished?
"gilligan6855"'s "This is the spinach of your painting career" 
because it was amusing and disjunct, and Nathalie's "High Speed Addiction".

I also like it when people post their favorite poems by famous
poets, because we get exposed to a variety of styles, and it is a 
pleasure to get that without hunting in the library.

Heather

----------------------------------------------------------------------
| hcorbett@ocf.berkeley.edu    |  please post or e-mail constructive |
| hcorbett@garnet.berkeley.edu |  criticism - thanks!   HMC          |
| hcorbett@lucy.wellesley.edu  |_____________________________________|
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jis@panix.com (Linus Van Pelt)
Subject: Josie and the Pussycats LIVE! (No C&C please....)
Organization: PANIX Public Access Unix, NYC
Date: Tue, 26 Jan 1993 04:38:57 GMT


While I may not have written it, it brings back fond find memories of a
wasted TV youth.....

So take a breather from the serious poetry and get funky
with Josie and the Pussycats!
--------------------------------------------------------

Josie and the Pussycats!
Long tails, and ears for hats!
Guitars and sharps and flats,
Neat, sweet, a groovy song,
You're invited, come along!
Hurry, Hurry!

See all of Persia,
Or maybe France,
We could be in India or by chance.
We were once in Bangkok,
Makes no difference,
Everywhere the action's at
We're involved with this and that.
Come on along now!

Josie and the Pussycats!
Long tails and perfects hats!
Won't run, when they hear 'Scat!'
They're where the plot begins,
Yeah-yeah-yeah!
Come and watch the good guys win,
Josie and the Pussycats!
Josie and the Pussycats!
Yeah!
From: postigli@girtab.usc.edu (Joyce)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Checking it out.
Date: 28 Jan 1993 16:58:39 -0800
Organization: University of Southern California, Los Angeles, CA
NNTP-Posting-Host: girtab.usc.edu


Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: alberto@TITAN.tsa (Alberto Hernandez)
Subject: Purity Tests
Reply-To: alberto@TITAN.tsa
Organization: Telefonica I+D
Date: Tue, 26 Jan 1993 08:39:27 GMT

Hello everybody.

I'm interested in spanish poetry and exchanging poems in spanish with other people. Since this group is devoted to English poetry (though still I haven't received a single poem) it could be an inadequate place to do it. If someone is interested, please contact me.

	Alberto

P.S.: By the way, can anybody explain what a "purity test" is? Is it related to freedom of expression, censorship or something like that?


	Podra no haber poetas; pero siempre
		habra' poesi'a.

			G. A. Becquer
From: zola@hardy.u.washington.edu ()
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: _now_      (repost)    Rebecca
Date: 21 Jan 1993 16:35:22 GMT
Organization: Singing Spider Ranch, Hang Gliding / Gusty Wind Dept.
Distribution: world
Reply-To: zola@u.washington.edu
NNTP-Posting-Host: hardy.u.washington.edu



The way things are now is self-explanatory
It's all so <goddamned> clear.
What amuses me
	can't be tearing your wings off
	I mean tearing wings off of bugs
	you know what I mean.
It can't be what you believe it should be,
you cant just go in search of <fucking> lightning bugs.

I crave light, powerful lightning 
	because of the way things are now.
And the sublime deludes me 
	and evades me like your mother's maiden name
	I mean like your mother
	you know what I mean.

It's not that complicated.
	When I talked to her she said
"The job interview was horrible - 
so I went to see the dogs at the pound
In my beautiful pink brocade suit."
_That_ is the way things are.
Unreachable flowers across a deep river
are just about the only sign of beauty
in this desolate place.

If I can lay the blame, it will be on you.
Tearing wings off bugs is sort of funny in retrospect
	well not to the bugs
	and not to me, I wont do it now.
I only wanted to because they were your wings.
And bugs don't get it, the way things are.
	You don't know what I mean.

I have only seen her in pink brocade because of you,
A flaccid wingless sublime of pink, 
	because when the beauty died you still kicked
	the place where it slept every time you came in the door
	just like it was still breathing.
There is no way I can make it clearer
If you learn one thing, make it something you enjoy.
I certainly don't think about bugs all the time.

           -April, 1992
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ralph@wixer.cactus.org (Ralph Cherubini)
Subject: Poem--Superior
Organization: Real/Time Communications
Date: Sun, 24 Jan 1993 15:08:15 GMT


                                Superior

Yes
I hate you
did you want to know?
you always want the truth
can you afford it?
As we mount the stairs
I want to kick you down them
and then you look at me
and I punch you in the mouth
yes you bleed
still untouched
you do it to yourself
so much better than anyone else
no one is good enough for you
as you show them
how you can be so much more hateful to yourself
than anyone else
could ever be.



-- 
ralph@wixer.cactus.org
cactus.org!wixer!ralph