HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: NAT@drao.nrc.ca (Natalie Prowse)
Subject: not my idea of a good time / Natalie
Organization: The Egocentric Conspiracy
Date: Tue, 15 Dec 1992 02:03:50 GMT
X-News-Reader: VMS NEWS 1.11



		not my idea of a good time
		-------------------------------------------------------------	
		
		oh no.
		it's happening again.
		i see you sinking.
		i reach out,
		and you drag me down
		to the turbid deeps.
		
		i try to breathe life
		into your starved lungs
		but it is hopeless.
		my air is never enough.
	
		you cling and push.
	        you think this ring
		on my finger
		is a ring 
		through my nose.
		you don't understand.
		you never do 
		when you are gasping and grasping,
		the murky waters
		cloud your eyes.
	
		i cannot save you
		but i cannot abandon you 
		to drown alone,
		so i clench my teeth. my hands. my heart.
		i fight futility,
		struggle to surface.
		resentment and guilt
		constrict my chest.
		
		i could hold my breath
		longer, at this depth
		stronger, i think
		if you would just bob and breach,
		taste sizzling sky and clairfied air
		with me sometimes
		instead of hanging just beneath,
		waiting for the next eventuality.
		
		
			-Natalie / Dec 14, 1992	


------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(nat@drao.nrc.ca) |"It's good to have a healthy sense of sin.  It adds  
		  |  *spice* to your transgressions..."  - J.H.
From: burtt@dancer.nscl.msu.edu (BRIAN BURTT)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Poem: Run Away
Date: 19 Dec 92 15:47:00 GMT
Organization: NSCL Michigan State University
NNTP-Posting-Host: dancer.nscl.msu.edu
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41

Run Away
--------

Run away love,
     I know you must.

But promise me love,
     You'll come back someday.
(Someday soon?)

--Brian Burtt
(C&C?)
From: Jaime Gil de Biedma
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Anniversary Song
Date: 11 Dec 1992 21:00:01 GMT
Organization: Somewhere in heaven, perhaps?
Distribution: world
NNTP-Posting-Host: balsam.ppc.ubc.ca
Keywords: Poem


	ANNIVERSARY SONG
	================

Because it's been six years from then,
because there's nothing on Earth, yet,
so sweet as a room for two, if it's mine and yours,
because even time, a poor relative who's seen better days,
seems today for happiness;
let's sing, joy!

And later on, let's just get up 
as if in Sunday. Let's help the morning 
go away while we make love again, 
but this time even better: different 
from what the night would guess, 
while our room gets crowded with sun rays 
and sounds of quiet neighborhoods, the same as time,
and peaceful history.

The echo of pleasure days, 
desire, the music agreed upon 
inside the heart, that I have put so meagerly 
in my poems, because it's too romantic;
all fragrances, all the unfaithful past,
whatever was sweet and brings homesickness,
don't you see how things are melted in the reality 
that you were dreaming of then, and I was dreaming of?

Reality - not very pretty - 
with the shortcomings of being two,
its shameful nights of love without desire
and of desire without a hint of love,
that we could not pay even if sleeping alone 
for six centuries. And with its vague transitions, 
from treason to boredom,
from boredom to treason.

Life is not a dream, you already know 
that we tend to forget this.
But a little piece of dream, not more, 
a hideous feel this time, silencing the 
remainder of our story, and for a second, 
- while we wish each other a happy and long 
life together -
I'm sure that could not harm anybody. 
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jchien@leland.Stanford.EDU (Jennifer Crystal Fang-Chien)
Subject: like shakespeare -- jchien
Organization: The Land of Flowers (Stanford U.)
Date: Tue, 15 Dec 92 10:39:19 GMT



	like shakespeare


	centuries ago,
	a poet could write hundreds of lines on
	denuding flowers and plucking cherries.
	nowadays,
	a poet takes only half
	the title.

	yes, communication travels 
	at light speed in this modern world:
	fucking ends just as it starts.

	the naive poet says,
	"let's write about the romance between
	the sexes--" it won't sell.
		people want their attention
	grabbed in the first two seconds.  put
	'fuck' in every title, and 'fuck' in
	every sentence.  write your poem
	around 'fuck', and 'fucking' too.

	To produce maximum appeal, mix fucking
	in with lettuce, with gilligan's island,
	with gay teddy bears, with cherry cough drops,
	with salvatore dali, with sticks and stones,
	with little red riding hood, with crescent wrenches,
	(insert a phallic symbol here)  mix fucking
	with mugs shaped like tropical fish, with rollerblades,
	with bagpipes, with thermonuclear reactions,
	with with sarcophagi, with surreptitious paparazzi,
	with green honeydew, with the anomied,
	(insert a psychosexual conflict here)  mix fucking
	with tali-tying cerimonies, with cloth saddles,
	with braided beards, with supernovas,
	with strawberry margaritas, and with dice cups
	(insert a set of gentials here).

	fuck them all.

	mix me a new combination and i'll immortalize you 
	as a literary genius,
	(what did you think you'd write?)
	like shakespeare.




				-- jennifer crystal chien
				    c/c welcome, as always =)




Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: sheilah@wam.umd.edu (Danny-Boy)
Subject: Re: Kitten
Organization: University of Maryland, College Park
Date: Mon, 14 Dec 1992 21:28:15 GMT

borrowing from MegaZone and Oren:

My cat huddles in a foot ball
her albedo curls up.

my cat howls.
-- 
I am always wrong. Don't believe me ever.
stark raving sane  sheilah@wam.umd.edu
From: haro@triton.unm.edu (..KANEDA..)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Poem from the Movie HAMBURGER HILL
Date: 16 Dec 92 21:46:08 GMT
Organization: University of New Mexico, Albuquerque

Can anyone e-mail me the poem at the end of the movie HAMBURGER HILL.
It was a very emotional poem.


RICK
From: bn860@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Maria-Zita C. Evensen)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: very light, indeed!
Date: 20 Dec 1992 15:39:05 GMT
Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, OH (USA)
Reply-To: bn860@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Maria-Zita C. Evensen)
NNTP-Posting-Host: hela.ins.cwru.edu




              THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS


Twelve days before Christmas, after writing like bards,
We queued at the post office to mail greeting cards.
We waited so long ... said: " Not much sense to hurry."
So now, we must finish everything in a flurry! 

Eleven days before Christmas, we are all agog
Frantically leafing through mail-order catalogues.
'Tis making the long-distance calls that I dread
Luckily, many are numbered  one- eight hundred.

Ten days before Christmas, final exams must be taken.
How can I concentrate when twinkling lights beckon.
Come and be merry, the season is here!
Mon Dieu! I am gonna have to lend a deaf ear.

Nine days before Christmas to the malls, I did fly
With nothing in mind but to  buy, buy, and buy.
Trinklets for Mom and warm gowns for grandmamas ...
How come I always seem to get striped pajamas?

Eight days before Christmas, must put up roof lights
"Hold on to that ladder, I am afraid of heights!"
The mantle looks festive, the woodbin restocked,
We have to be ready at the chime of the clock.

Seven days before Christmas, must shop for a tree ...
Fresh ... plastic ... or flocked, what should it be?
Politically, ecologically, demographically correct?
The mores in this town are so very strict!

Six days before Christmas, let's get the tree in.
Sheesh, I didn't realize it looks haggard and thin.
"No matter," we said," just hang a lot of ornaments."
Then it looked like a green warrior with armanents.

Five days before Christmas, what am I going to do?
Half of my greeting cards came back postage due!
Well...hhmmmm... I know ... if everything fails,
I think I will send my greetings e-mail.

Four days before Christmas, must find a hide-out
To wrap Christmas presents that everyone knows about.
The problem is to fit which box to which gift ....
Remembering who gets what ... I am not very swift.

Three days before Christmas, everything's seems in place
Except for cakes to bake and roast beef to glace.
Oh, yes ... have to get Aunt Jo some macadamias...
I heard that's the de rigeur gift in academia.

Two days before Christmas, I squirm and I winch
To get into that slinky lurex gown inch by  inch.
After so very much push-me and pull-you
This lurex and I simply just would not do!

The day before Christmas, well ... all through the house
Dinner and dancing and rounds of applause.
Sounds of gifts being opened heard all through the night
And carols that tell ... my world is all right.

On the day of Christmas, what else is there to do?
Oh ...  please, let me sleep all the day through!


                    ***

zita maria evensen
c1992, dec 12th


-- 
...........................
..it's  Christmas, after all ...

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jwm3@vivaldi.psu.edu (James Walter Martin)
Subject: Re: Long Distance
Keywords: circa 1991 
Organization: AA 
Date: Fri, 18 Dec 92 03:26:21 GMT

here's an old one. i'm in a new long distance relationship now.


                             longing
                                
                           telempathy
                        not yet eye deal
                            postalled
                         hard of herein
                        distance is real


Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ekankaan@kaira.hut.fi (Eero Kankaanp{{)
Subject: lightly lunatic
Organization: serene serenades
Date: Sun, 20 Dec 1992 00:34:02 GMT


    ) moonlight marmelade, jamming (

     stan getz playing
     me listening
     stella by starlight
     coltrane taking giant steps
     miles from earth
     armstrong's horn
     sounding sunrise
     on the sunny side of the sea 
     don't sit under the apple tree mr g
     miller playing chattanooga choo choo
     under a blanket of blue
     time for some lullabies ?
     asked those crescent moon eyes
     monitoring
     
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: 78witherspoo@cua.edu
Subject: Re: Ankh (male self-loathing and Heiner Muller)
Organization: The Catholic University of America
Date: Tue, 15 Dec 1992 01:54:15 GMT

In article <Bz9uCt.BF3@news.iastate.edu>, argent@iastate.edu (The Great Grendel-Khan) writes:

> I want to touch you.
> (Would you bleed for me?)
> I'd be gentle---really I would,
> unless you want it hard.
> Then I'll make it as rape,
> stopping only when I've had enough---
> and I could never have enough.
> I would possess you until you begged for me to stop.
> Perhaps I would then, or perhaps I would take your wetness
> 	one last time,
> and collapse exhausted when I was through.

> 	I wrote this on this night I'd meet my present girlfriend.  It was
> just recently that I finally showed it to her.  She liked it.  We're weird
> that way.  My friend says i should title it, "What guys really think," so
> I know I'm not the only one that can relate to such emotions.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
I like this.

I offer you this in return:

	(From "Quartet", a play by Heiner Muller)

	Valmont. ...Your body is the body of your death, Valmont.  A woman has
	many bodies.  You have to bleed yourself if you want to see blood, or
	one man has to bleed the other.  Envy of the milk in our breasts, that
	is what makes you men into butchers.

Love and timespaces,

Tom W(itherspoon)

78witherspoo@cua.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Subject: Re: like shakespeare -- jchien
Reply-To: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Organization: Iowa State University
Date: Wed, 16 Dec 1992 00:39:29 GMT

Jennifer -- are we reading the same Shakespeare?  The Shakespeare 
I remember is full of bawdy jokes and remarks.  And not much about 
denuding flowers.  People sometimes think Shakespeare put things 
"delicately", but I doubt if his audience thought so.  It's mostly 
the differences in language that make us think he's being delicate.  
Of course, he never actually used "fuck"...that I recall, anyway.  
Maybe that was your point.


Marie Coffin
From: jfox@sumax.seattleu.edu (---------FOX---------)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: poem
Date: 15 Dec 92 00:08:42 GMT
Distribution: rec.arts.poems, alt.angst
Organization: Seattle University

THE WORLD

Oh how the world stinks
smells like rotten fish
i don't wonder why my father drinks

Oh how the world bites
bites real hard
i look at you through my sights

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

THE SKY

look at the sky
the sunset crimson red

the stars speckel it, night time
the moon bigger than last night 

your general attitude 
follows the moon

gets larger and more violent
you turn and leave me 

alone
with the sky
the sunset
the stars
and the moon 

i'll never see you again 
and i don't know if i care to

Shadoxx<----AKA---->Doug Fox
From: 78witherspoo@cua.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: need/ for Marek and his caffeine
Date: 21 Dec 92 03:08:31 GMT
Organization: The Catholic University of America



		need
		----

		I need warmth to hold,
		not possess, not caress,
		just a place to enter and exit
		so I can remind myself 
		I am still alive.

78witherspoo@cua.edu
From: donz@uiunix.ui.org (Don Zirilli)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Put on a big red tie
Date: 16 Dec 92 18:42:37 GMT
Organization: UNIX International, Parsippany, NJ


		Soft Pleas to Put On
		------------------------------------------------------
		
		
		"Put on a big red tie
		and let us lie."
		
		Let us lie on mossy meadows,
		small wild flowers, Victorian hedges,
		Roman statues and, under the trees,
		their shadow's soft edges
		
		Let me put on a plastic nose
		and smile a constant virginal smile
		with powdery cheeks that shiver like snow
		onto their invisible piles.
		
		"Put on a big red tie
		and let us lie."
		
		You whisper your delicate incantation,
		softly pleading I do this and some of that,
		but I am tempted to disregard you
		and crassly doff my hat.
		
		The winter prefigures my nudity,
		cries one syllable through its season
		and decorates me with costumes of snow.
		I fear you have a different reason.
		
		"Quiet now.  Put on a red tie
		and let us lie."
		
		
		Posthumous O'Toole
		aka Defender of the Realm
		aka Rap Chucklehead
		aka Chuckie's in Love

c&c welcome

re: the debate over 'fuck' in poems.  There is no problem with using 'fuck'
in a poem or being vulgar in a poem.  The only problem is when a poet
puts too much stock in the shock value of such words and doesn't bother
doing anything else to make it a good poem.  The same problem occurs with
words like soul and heart and love.  'fuck' is a dying word, and must be
carefully used, just like the already-dead words I just mentioned.

-- 
Chucklehead awaits the return of his .sig
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jmc@SAIL.Stanford.EDU (John McCarthy)
Subject: Re: sonata... / Marek "love as a drug", "sex as need", Re: Need - A Poem
Reply-To: jmc@cs.Stanford.EDU
Organization: Computer Science Department, Stanford University
	<1992Dec20.164757.18166@news.cs.indiana.edu>
Date: 20 Dec 92 14:40:33

Sex as a favor, given and received, doesn't have the same status as
sex as an expression of love.  That doesn't make a poem about it
worthless, and I think Marguerite Peterson's poem is a good one..
--
John McCarthy, Computer Science Department, Stanford, CA 94305
*
He who refuses to do arithmetic is doomed to talk nonsense.

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: bunny@bsu-cs.bsu.edu (Marsh)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Poem - Walls
Keywords: in memorium...
Date: 16 Dec 92 03:00:43 GMT
Organization: CS Dept, Ball St U, Muncie, Indiana


WALLS

The walls were quiet, muffled
where the noise grew free;
and every voice was hushed
the quiet blending rooms
floors, ceilings every one
was bending to the walls
with all their silence,
bland and silvered paper
blind, and muffled there,
the mass enveloped by them
by the quiet, massive walls...

the din became unto itself
an entity of null sound,
space the final product
with no voices creeping
to the light behind the walls;
the light was quiet, too,
its harshness melded soft
and bland like paper to them,
hiding from them, comforting,
the gold gone sour, dimmed
behind the walls in silence.

that voice will echo always
drumming bright within the mind
but all without is quiet
and the walls stand proud,
defiant guardians, and dumb
and stony unrelenting silence
bars the door and bleeds
from room to room, heart to heart
and all the hush is frightening
in its awkward, still despair.

-Tracy Flynn-Marsh

for my Grandfather, Tommie Lee Winchester
7/20/21 - 12/11/92
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: sheilah@wam.umd.edu (Danny-Boy)
Subject: Meetings,
Summary: not a poem, not even poetic, just a question of location 
Organization: University of Maryland, College Park
Date: Sat, 12 Dec 1992 23:43:10 GMT

Any rappers in El Paso or Austin over late december and early January?
or for that matter, any rabbers?

Want to get together at a restaurant.
Preferrable some people who would not expect me to say a word,
I am pathologically shy and do not speak a word.

In Austin perhaps meet at Mother's, (yummy yummy mushroom stroganof)
or a book store (half price books on north lamar or the one on burnet,
I never made up my mind, or suggest one)
or Martin Bros Cafe, because they have the smoothiest smoothies.
(alternatively, a place with yummy enchilades in green sauce (although
I can never make up my mind if it is the tomatilla sauce I like or
the green chili sauce.)
alternatively, technophilia, used cd store, G&M steakhouse, Mad Dog's
or in one of the UT libraries since the library over here sucks and spits
and I miss my lovely selection of books.

Almost forgot - my favorite sushi place in Austin, but you will meet
and my friend Su, if I can find her. Azuma's (sigh. vegetable tempura,
hamachi, tumago, ...kai, (misspellings) No Uni!)

Or, alternatively, (really routing for this one) Crown and Anchor Pub,
for a pitcher of Shiner, or Celis, or hmmm, we could go to Wheatsville
coop and look for a cool beer. (I like Samual Smith, but mucho exspensive)

(now I am waxing homesick) (we could go to double daves on a tuesday for
discount greasy peparoni rolls. Any Takers?)

Or, MUHAHAHA - we could order an aggie buster from the grease and cardboard
guys, Gumby's.

(Austin! Austin!
(read with the same tone as "Thallata! Thallata!". huh? okay, maybe not) 


look, it is shameful of me to make such a silly post, but I miss Austin.
Someone one write a poem. Someone pat my Homesick head.
-- 
I am always wrong. Don't believe me ever.
stark raving sane  sheilah@wam.umd.edu
From: alk4@ellis.uchicago.edu (Alex L. Karan)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Its a shame Nemerov died
Date: 13 Dec 92 23:46:26 GMT
Reply-To: alk4@midway.uchicago.edu
Organization: University of Chicago Computing Organizations

Its a shame Howard Nemerov (old poet lauret)
died before Ken wrote this.
I would have found the old loon
and showed him this poem
and I'd have said:

Look, look, look!

Thank you Ken.

Alex
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: "Gettin' Liquored"
From: kmwilson@vax1.umkc.edu (Ken M. Wilson)
Date: 16 Dec 92 18:26:16 CST
Organization: University of Missouri - Kansas City
NNTP-Posting-Host: vax1.umkc.edu



                       "Gettin' Liquored"

                       I've seen it before,
                       those times I adore,
                       at those that I have snickered...

                       But I must confess,
                       I've made a mess
                       of myself when I, too, am liquored.

                       My mind is aflutter,
                       my legs are like butter,
                       I stumble and fall 'round the room.

                       Either laughing or weeping,
                       I embrace sleeping,
                       awaking with a head that goes boom.

                                December 6,1992

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
| Ken M. Wilson                  | "Send two dozen roses to Room 424 and put |
| Room 4, Cockefair Hall         |  'Emily, I love you' on the back of the   |
| Univ. of Missouri, Kansas City |    bill."                                 |
| KMWILSON@VAX1.UMKC.EDU         |     -Otis B. Driftwood (Groucho Marx)     |
| KMWILSON@UMKCVAX1              |       in "A Day at the Races"             |
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: zx2j@vax5.cit.cornell.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: haiku
Date: 17 Dec 92 15:38:04 EST
Distribution: rec
Organization: Cornell University



fixing a flat tire
bright summer day; white clouds above
grassy windblown waves

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: oauld@ponder.csci.unt.edu (orion okotu auld)
Subject: Quiescence
Organization: University of North Texas
Date: Tue, 15 Dec 1992 21:13:02 GMT


                    Quiescence
                    ----------

    
     While you sleep the trees outside confer,
     and they agree: there's just not enough of us
     to keep this up for long.  Perhaps these walls
     are deeper yet than love; how easy now we 
     come to rest, forsake that we could ever 
     get it right.  No peace is worth this kind of deathliness.
     Quiet, yes, and quick enough -- I see it now
     as you take shapes of things I've never seen.

     Still, I feel your blood run through my veins.
     Sleep well.  The morning will very likely tell
     what becomes of all.


(c&c welcome)-- 
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
      Orion Auld           |Oh, Lord, won't you buy me a 486
                           |My friends all use Vaxes, but they make me sick
"We are only fabulous      |I want to run Windows; it needs to run quick
 beasts, after all."       |So Lord, won't you buy me a 486
    --John Ashberry        |(Apologies to Janis Joplin)  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

-- 
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
      Orion Auld           |Oh, Lord, won't you buy me a 486
                           |My friends all use Vaxes, but they make me sick
"We are only fabulous      |I want to run Windows; it needs to run quick
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ekankaan@kaira.hut.fi (Eero Kankaanp{{)
Subject: Re: not poetry, profanity, and general disgruntlement
Organization: White Christmas
Date: Sat, 19 Dec 1992 23:53:25 GMT

In article <4790@cruzio.santa-cruz.ca.us> jjwebb@cruzio.santa-cruz.ca.us writes
>
>Stop it children, it's Christmas ...
>-- 
  red for christmess

 christ the present situation is bad
 people going on all fours tire
 head lights grant their saintly glow
 sparkling eyes merely spell peace
 cast on asphalt

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems