HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: sheila@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu (sheila)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: here's lookin at U
Date: 13 Apr 92 02:02:12 GMT
Organization: The University of Texas at Austin, Austin TX

In article <1992Apr10.105543.3309@willamette.edu> dbeacham@willamette.edu (Daniel Beacham) writes:

>	... she could have 
>	addressed that to any of the flower drones on this network.

okay, i've done this twice. i've vented emotionally bad days unto people.
I should be more responsible, my apologies.
i was upset, and the remarks about happiness got to me.
if i wanted to make a comment i should have made civil comments
that made sense or something.
-- 
stark raving sane -- sheila@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu
From: tumlin@cs.utexas.edu (Evelyn Tumlin)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Haiku
Date: 8 Apr 1992 17:35:29 -0500
Organization: CS Dept, University of Texas at Austin
NNTP-Posting-Host: tabby.cs.utexas.edu
Keywords: I don't usually write haiku


I have no idea where this came from; it just happened.
An unusual form for me, too -- I don't usually write
haiku.  If I've inadvertently plagiarized it, please
let me know... ;-)



	Why did I leave the
	Flaming of maples against
	Pale blue sky, and you?


Lyn Tumlin
(c. 1992)
*******************
Comments and criticisms welcome; flames returned unopened.
From: sheila@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu (sheila)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: shower water
Date: 14 Apr 92 15:57:07 GMT
Organization: The University of Texas at Austin, Austin TX


i am patient
i will let the shower water dry off of me
by standing and letting it drip.
-- 
stark raving sane -- sheila@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu
From: mikeb@tamri.com (Mike Bracanovic)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Destiny
Keywords: Destiny
Date: 10 Apr 92 17:32:01 GMT
Organization: TOSHIBA America MRI, San Francisco


			The night is so romantic, and such
			a pretty site, stars and the moon
			dancing in the sky.

			Oh destiny come this way and bring
			that special flower my way, so for
			I can share, the moon and the stars
			with that special flower of my.


   Mike M. Bracanovic 4-10-92

PS. Comments, suggestions and flames, totaly accepted.
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: darkness@milton.u.washington.edu (DARKNESS)
Subject: Re: Crying
Organization: University of Washington, Seattle
Date: Mon, 6 Apr 1992 21:27:25 GMT

In article <1992Apr5.180758.10643@u.washington.edu> choda@hardy.u.washington.edu (Julie Palmatier) writes:
>Here is one I submitted and got published a while back:
>
>I feel that something is wrong
>that maybe I don't belong
>
>Its because the rain
>keeps hitting me on the head
>and running down my face
>
>
>Don't ask me why they published it!
>

It's simple yet eloquent, that's why.


Jon
From: sc4d+@andrew.cmu.edu (Sean Michael Colletta)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: let's be
Date: 14 Apr 92 23:33:16 GMT
Organization: Junior, Biology, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA



		let's be
		the little light of a candle
		almost put out by the rain
		the silence that covers the hills
		and fills the wooded valleys

		open the door, loved one
		and look out on the garden -
		isn't it decorated in the grace of springtime
		and don't you know who put us there,
		reflected in that flower's eye?

		the vine on the back window-sill
		has creeped out of the flowerpot
		and spread love-like mad
		entrancing the daffodills
		in its green embrace

		the rain is falling down
		the side of the candle now.
		it flickers and flickers
		but does not go out.


					sean
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: n2412@cray.com (Joe Green)
Subject: pretty boy grabbed a log chain
Keywords: the deputy grabbed his gun
Date: 13 Apr 92 13:35:05 CDT


here's what I'm a talkin about in a little comic poem.


	Once there was Childermas Gazelles asleep in the green chapel
	and food! food! food! and great clipper ships and
	President Taft leaning out smiling and smiling into
	symbolic quantities of small arms fire.

	There was median and modulus.

	The promise of parrallel universes! of a color called panelume!

	And we were all magic paradiso adoration jukebox perfection
	Crhistmas Titian cortex flung out in the wild blue yonder
	with a shoeshine and a smile.

	The young Goethe plays with his toy theatre!

	The Tsar accepts all these restraints with
	extraordinary serenity and moral grandeur!

	Jack Ruby gets some good coke!

	Henry James writes a letter to his friend!

	But now we are void alphabet eggs at best
	waiting for the spasm war when there will be
	gulftown galactic lamentation hometowns with
	bones bones bones and there will be no modulus
	except deep under Cheyenne mountain where the
	joint chiefs dream the long dream

		Unsyllabled Poontang!


--
From: n2412@cray.com (Joe Green)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: The Business of Poetry
Date: 8 Apr 92 14:15:51 GMT
Article-I.D.: hemlock.1992Apr8.091552.29093
Organization: Cray Research, Inc.

In article <22511@alice.att.com> rhh@alice.att.com (r hardin) writes:
>
>
>Himself writes:
>>He means that he would have murdered the poor poseur.  This is easy
>>enough to say if you don't take this stuff seriously -- perhaps
>>have never encountered it.  These words and this attitude are the
>>stuff of public discourse.  This kind of pretense is
>>rather vile.  You would have "fragged" him, Joe?  And then you want
>>your declarations of your aesthetic to be believed?
>
>There's a nice introduction to poetic imagery in Kenneth Burke's
>Rhetoric of Motives, if it's giving you trouble.  Say page 11.
>

Better yet, ask me about the nature of poetic imagery (don't ask me about
my grandkids).  I'll explain just what this kind of figurative
language figures forth and why it is typical and vile.  

>
>Incidentally, open The Making of the Pre' by Francis Ponge (U Missouri 1979)
>to page 82-83 and tell me where i can get a copy of that painting.
>I want one for my office.

A painting of the sublime object of ideology?  Why do you need it?
--
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Imperfect Sestina        --MAB, 4/6/92
From: mabruscani@amherst.edu
Date: 7 Apr 92 13:41:24 GMT
Organization: Amherst College, Amherst, MA.

		      Imperfect Sestina 

		My hands are full of whispers.
		I lay one speaking palm 
		against the air and make it still
		as it listens to our last touch.
		Without you, my hands are learning silence.
		I wonder if your fingertips remember me.

	I yearn for your return to me,
	to bring back those precious whispers
	to my emptying hands so sadly met with silence;
	then against your cheek is where I'll lay my palm--
	once again to revel in touch
	and make the ache within us still.

		I know your gentle fingers still,
		though too long ago they left me
		wanting nothing but your touch
		and familiar warming whispers
		against my skin, against my palm,
		our mutual language before the silence.

	Now there's nothing but the silence;
	half a language, alone and still,
	cannot refill an empty palm.
	If you do not come back to me,
	if you withhold your fingertip whispers,
	I will go mute for want of touch.

		The cool clear air may have my touch,
		but it cannot stop the silence,
		or take away the ache with whispers
		soft and pure of how your love lives still.
		And yet, I feel hope strong within me.
		I clutch it tight inside my palm.

	I know your lips will kiss my palm
	before my skin forgets your touch.
	I know you will return to me,
	and bring sound back into the silence.
	I know the ache will finally still,
	and you will have a warmth of whispers.


		Former whispers may yet leave my palm,
		but still, anticipation of your touch
		will ease this silence around me.


				--Marisa A. Bruscani, 4/6/92

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: n2412@cray.com (Joe Green)
Subject: Re: baby / Marek (1990)
Organization: Cray Research, Inc.
Date: 8 Apr 92 12:48:08 CDT

In article <1992Apr8.054249.22100@nic.unh.edu> marek@msel.unh.edu (Marek W Lugowski) writes:
>(c) 1990 Marek Lugowski.  All Rights Reserved, except personal use copy.
>
>		baby
>		--------------------------------------------------
>		
>		marek...  hi...
>		it's me.
>		
>		yeah, i know...
>		they all say that...
>		we all say that.
>		
>		but it's...
>		me...   really...
>		
>		marek?....  i.. think i want
>		a baby.  yes...  you remember.
>		we talked about it...
>		back... when we... were still...
>		a couple.
>		
>		marek?...
>		i'm serious...  i know, i have not
>		called in years...
>		but...
>		i think it's time.
>		and i would like to... have that baby
>		
>		please.
>
>
>			Marek W. Lugowski
>			18 May 1990, near midnight
>			Saddle Creek water alley, Monroe Lake, Indiana
>

Her name was Rosemary.  Right?


-- 
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: n2412@cray.com (Joe Green)
Subject: Re: Reserving Rights on your poetry
Organization: Cray Research, Inc.
Date: 14 Apr 92 12:44:57 CDT

In article <9204141625.AA22420@ucbvax.Berkeley.EDU> CCPHIL@UMCVMB.MISSOURI.EDU (Phil Leith) writes:
>
>Ok, suppose you write a poem, somebody takes it and makes it their own,
>and maybe even publishes it.
>
>Say one day, you want to publish a book, for WHATEVER reason (maybe
>to give to your friends... after all, who else wants to read it, right?)
>and somebody else has a copyright on something YOU wrote - now you can't
>even call it your own.  To me, poetry is to be shared, but it is not a
>gift, it is something very personal.  If you want to reserve your rights
>to do with your poetry what you will in the future, *I* don't have a
>problem with it.
>                                              Phil Leith

But why do you want to call it your own?  How about "Here's this great
book of poems I found."  Once published, once read, the poetry is no
longer your chattel.
-- 
From: Ralph.Cherubini@f10.n382.z1.FidoNet.Org (Ralph Cherubini)
Sender: uucp@p0.f39.n382.z1.FidoNet.Org
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Poem--To a Friend
Date: 10 Apr 92 09:10:04 EST

 

It was enough to have your kindness surrounding me,

to feel the golden glow of your concern warming my being.

And I am saddened by the gray absence which has replaced you,

in my life,

in this room to which so few visitors come.


 * Origin: Connect America #1, multiline, 512-459-3351 (1:382/10.0)
From: sgrant@oasys.dt.navy.mil (Sally Grant)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: attempted suicide - twice
Date: 7 Apr 92 16:38:51 GMT
Reply-To: sgrant@oasys.dt.navy.mil (Sally Grant)
Organization: Carderock Division, NSWC, Bethesda, MD

Blood and teeth greeted the police when they arrived.

No body sprawled on the concrete, life fleeing

the newly opened gaps and gashes.

No limbs awkwardly bent pleaded for straightening

from the stares focused on the ground.

Only the red stained sidewalk with

the screamingly silent motion of blood

pooling in the indentations; and high above,

the whisper of his run and leap a second time.





 - it's amazing what people will do for their 15 minutes of fame!
From: Ralph.Cherubini@f10.n382.z1.FidoNet.Org (Ralph Cherubini)
Sender: uucp@p0.f39.n382.z1.FidoNet.Org
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re--Reserving rights on your poetry
Date: 14 Apr 92 18:28:32 EST

Quoting a forgotten (by me) poet in a recent issue of EXQUISITE CORPSE:
 
"Then there was the Bulgarian who got into poetry for the money..."
(I assume after the downfall of the recent communist regime)
 
Then there is my response:
 
Someone steal your poetry? You should be so lucky...
 


 * Origin: Connect America #2, Austin, Tx, 512-459-3351 (1:382/10.0)
From: tordm@vana (Tord Malmgren)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: God, Earth and The Moon
Date: 12 Apr 92 23:03:04 GMT
Reply-To: tordm@vana
Organization: Dept. of Physics, University of Stockholm -- Sweden


 hokay, here's another little something for you all
---------------------------------------------------


"... and God created
         The Earth
     and
         The Moon
 He liked
         The Twins
 so He Jerked Off
    watching Them
    swirling about in an erotic
                         sensual
                         Dance

 His mighty Orgasm
            created
     Stars
 and
     Galaxies -- God's Semen
 waiting
 for
     The Universal Egg

 He wiped His
          Dick off
 on the back of
          The Moon
 and went to sleep
     satisfied and tired

 His presence expelled"




---------------+--------------------------------
 Tord Malmgren | Internet: tordm@vand.physto.se | These opinions are my own,
               | BITnet  : TORDM@SESUF51.BITNET | and NOT of this department!
---------------+--------------------------------
 Department of Physics, University of Stockholm
From: sheila@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu (sheila)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: remembering how i used to feel (confused)
Date: 14 Apr 92 20:26:17 GMT
Article-I.D.: ut-emx.70312
Organization: The University of Texas at Austin, Austin TX


what with all the thoughts going on in her head
she couldn't concentrate
or what did she want
changing
changing her mind
looking over her shoulder she saw
an interesting view of life
lock up inside of a die
very smooth and square
the little dot braille marks
sharp from the inside
every where she walks
they cut into her feet
she begins to leave
red smudges behind.


she finds herself wanting company
at once with no talking
just udnerstanding that she wants quiet (friends).
rotating between feeling and non feeling
counterclockwise towards cycnicsim
away from faith
-- 
stark raving sane -- sheila@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu
From: wachtel@canon.co.uk (Tom Wachtel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: rec.arts.poems
Date: 13 Apr 92 16:59:32 GMT
Reply-To: wachtel@canon.co.uk
Distribution: rec
Organization: Canon Research Centre Europe Ltd

Bradley Greene writes:

> Who can tell me How I feel
> Give me substance make me real
> Silent days and lonely nights
> Running in circles, flying kites
> 
> Am I standing on shakey ground
> Does this room go round and round
> Could it be that you are near
> Could it be I'm full of fear
> 
> What my purpose for standing here
> Watching the time disapear
> Its too much ration to comprehend
> We'll never know until end
> 
> Why must I leave all so depressed
> What do you know I've become obsessed?

Just wanted to see what would happen if you took the second and third
words of each line:

	can tell me substance
	days and in circles
	I standing this room
	it be it be
	my purpose the time
	too much never know
	must I do you

No malice intended.

-- 

Tom Wachtel (wachtel@canon.co.uk)
From: estrada@inland.com
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: O F 	T A X E S   &  	D E A T H
Date: 15 Apr 92 23:31:41 GMT
Organization: Inland Steel Company; East Chicago, IN

Just for humor, here it is right in the midst of doing my Taxes (Late bird
arent ?)
From: jjwebb@cruzio.santa-cruz.ca.us
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: the business of poetry
Keywords: condolences
Date: Sun, 12 Apr 92 19:51:44 PDT
Reply-To: jjwebb@cruzio.santa-cruz.ca.us


Overheard (from within the crowd)

	"What exactly does 'arrested development' mean?"

		"Well, think of it as a Cray caught in a program loop
                 ... or a wheelbarrow going in circles."

	"That must be boring."

		"That's what they say. At any rate, that's what they
		 seem to complain about the most."

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

Some men overcome their boredom
	by abusing those around them.
Others tilt at windmills.
	Still others, will do both.

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

Intellectual property IS a commodity. Writing copy for the cyclops,
software for an information engine, press releases for the pimples that
can sing ... speech writing. Nobility? Not likely! 

Poetry? Not here either .. but at least it's a labor of love 
(or nagging agony, the itch that never quite subsides). 
And so .. one tries to stake a claim (My itch (m) At this time), 
a claim the WHOLE DAMN WORLD says is allowed.

Except the elitist control freak
		He thinks it's sad ...
So let's all have some sympathy for poetry .. on the count of three
1 .. 2 .. 3 AAHHHHHH! too bad ... 
Yes, it's terrible to see where poetry has sunk to .. why it's as if
we didn't have a voice at all! And if we did, who would DARE lay
claim to it? Go on! Stake a claim! 
	He's bored and wants to HURT somebody!
	Make 'em wish they didn't HAVE a name!
	He wants his poets to be afraid .. and tame.

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

Watching from Within the Flames 
 
He built a house of matchsticks, 
Red tips pointed down, 
That ignited at the first cross look 
It had to deal with ... 
 
            A neighbor, 
 
Who'd come to strenuously dissent. 
Protesting, 
"After all, this IS a fire hazard! 
Far too close to MY home!"
 
        ... Up it went ...


 "In the Electric Shadows"
	copyright (c) 1992 by JJWebb

 --
From: marek@msel.unh.edu (Marek W Lugowski)
Subject: the gods of k mart and the shiny neon lights / Marek
Originator: marek@mermaid.msel.unh.edu
Organization: UNH Marine Systems Engineering Laboratory
Date: Wed, 15 Apr 1992 04:17:22 GMT

 
		the gods of k mart and the shiny neon lights
		-------------------------------------------------------------
 
		the gods of k mart flick on the blue light
		and the faithful gather to the sight.
		 
		the gods of the shiny neon lights
		are after my heart.
		 
		i start the motor and the gods of my
		vehicle are running.  oh ye gods,
		what would i do if the thing quit on
		me on the interstate highway?
		 
		the gods of rain are listening in the wind.
		the gods of wind are listening in the rain.
		 
		the gods of disdain live in seattle in a certain house.
		they think i'm a louse.  but then there are other gods
		out there.  who think i'm nice.
		 
		the gods of my coca-cola consumption are rich merchants.
		the gods of my keyboard sometimes lock in repetitious distress.
		the gods of my dishwasher yank my chain and accept tributes.
		 
		many gods are called (the irs) but few are chosen (to audit).
		 
		some day one day i too will be gods and then we shall see
		 
		who's king.


			Marek Lugowski
			15 April 1992
			Cincinnati, Ohio
From: daq@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Who speaks for the dead
Date: 16 Apr 92 21:50:21 GMT
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA

My first exposure to Joe's ideas on oppression through
language came when I asked him about a poem he
wrote in which several men in Vietnam stand over
the body of a dead comerade making vile comments
about him and the picture of his girlfriend in
his wallet.  Sorry, I do not remember the name
of the poem.  I do have it saved but do not want
to look it up right now.

Apperently Joe was using this as a metaphor
to show how it is possible to be casually brutal
towards one who has no language.  In this case, 
the dead man's language has been literally removed
from him by the opression of the military.
This dead man cannot speak for himself and has
noone to speak for him.  Hence the easy brutality
of the other men who have no language to save themselves
from the same oppression.  They have no way to speak
to the machine that put them there.  We are given
a heirarchy of oppression.

Joe would seem to posit this as a general model for
looking at the way oppression happens and I almost
get the feeling that he thinks that this explains
most of the brutality we see in America today.
Actually, the intellectual rigor of this seems
fine, and their is integrity behind the thought.

But, cynically, I almost wonder if opression is
not necessary.  What happens if we empower each
and every individual to speak and to be heard.
What will we have.  We can see that within an
oppressive system, the more groups who gain
empowerment to discourse, the greater the social
chaos.  Look at America.  There are too many
people shouting and too few people listening.
Oppression cuts downt he noise level.

Given that it is ethically undesirable to
perpetuate oppression, I ask, quite honestly,
how we can really give every individual a language.
For, in the end, that is what would have to be done.
It will not be enough to give blacks, as a group
a laguage, or women or native americans.  In the
end it will come down to individuals.  

I say it cannot be done.  We have bred too much.
Perhaps certain native american tribes came rather
close to this kind of organized anarchy, but it
is very hard for me to believe that a tribal organization
based on a leader who is respected but has no power to
coerce the individual is possible in a world of 5 billion
and rapidly working on 10 billion people.

Joe points to the problem as he sees it with confidence
and intellectual prowess.  I will point to another problem
as I see it.  Stop crowding my world.  Stop breeding.
In a smaller world we might find the solutions.
I am sorry to say this Joe, but I really think that
there are too many bodies in our world.  Apocalypse may
be inevitable at this point.


doug
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: glj27240@uxa.cso.uiuc.edu (the cult of Carrie )
Subject: Re: here's lookin at U
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Date: Fri, 10 Apr 1992 13:56:20 GMT

the way this post appeared on my server made it seem as if your short
note was signed "Spider".   It was very amusing to think (alas, the
illusion only lasted a few seconds) that your nickname in high-school
was "Spider".....  i am laughing still... it is only 8:52   ..........

>stark raving sane -- sheila@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu  
-- 
							 
                                                  the cult of Carrie
From: casteley@phil.ruu.nl (Eric Casteleyn)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: tv commerical poem REBUTTAL
Keywords: cher,tv,poem,rebuttal
Date: 10 Apr 92 09:44:52 GMT
Organization: Department of Philosophy, University of Utrecht, The Netherlands

n2412@cray.com (Joe Green) writes:

>In article <1992Apr9.153515.20187@hemlock.cray.com> n2412@cray.com (Joe Green) writes:
>>In article <1992Apr9.200659.1052@cbfsb.cb.att.com> colossal@cbnewsg.cb.att.com (colossal Microscope) writes:
>>>
>>>thanX joe
>>>you said it was an "ok poem"
>>>
>>>you said "the copyright was interesting"
>>>and 
>>>   so
>>>     lots of r.a.p. must have interesting copyrights
>>>     cause that's where i derived it from


>What about "telling" poetry as if you were telling a joke you heard.
>You are not interested in claiming it as yours.  You want to make someone
>laugh.  A gift.

>What about telling a truth (or what you think is a truth) that
>could make someone happier?  A gift.  

>Or telling a lie if that is what is needed?  A gift.

>There is an economy to the gift too.  Read Lewis Hyde's wonderful
>book "The Gift."

>Or what about suddenly getting 10,000 bucks and throwing a party
>for all your friends until there isn't any more money left?
>In some cultures this is admired -- in ours it is the height
>of foolishness.  Even better -- don't let your friends know
>where the money comes from.  

>What did Christ say about the prayers of Pharisees?

>Fine critic.


  I have a question for mr. Green: Isn't it true that there are people who
 can mess up the funniest jokes by telling them wrong? Isn't it also true
 that there are people to whom you'd rather not give a gift as personal as
 a poem? (If there are not then my word, you are a bigger filantropist than
 I am.) 

  I see your points, and I wouldn't mind someone else saying they had
 written one of my poems. What I WOULD mind is the running the chance
 that that person would explain what he meant by the poem and thus de-
 stroy it.(I try not to mean things by my poetry.) This is almost as
 selfish an argument for copyright as the one of personal gain or fame,
 I agree...    


            as far as I don't understand it,

                                                EJC

>--
From: sarwar@evax12.eng.fsu.edu (MUSHTAQ A. SARWAR)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: REQUEST REPOST OF "alotofgirls"
Date: 7 Apr 92 19:41:47 GMT
Article-I.D.: mailer.1992Apr7.154147.29122
Reply-To: sarwar@evax12.eng.fsu.edu
Organization: Florida State University Computing Center
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.3-4

Anybody out there with a copy of "alotofgirls", please repost the poem or
email me a copy.

Thank you,

Misho. 
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems