HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: donz@ui.org (Posthumous O'Toole)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems,news.groups
Subject: Re: Creation of Urdu newsgroup
Keywords: sadi URDU Awae i Awae
Date: 5 Oct 92 13:20:18 GMT
Followup-To: rec.arts.poems
Organization: UNIX International, Parsippany, NJ

In article <1992Oct2.160340.10252@news.acns.nwu.edu> marek@casbah.acns.nwu.edu (Marek Lugowski) writes:
>In article <6949@transfer.stratus.com> nazir@jets.sw.stratus.com writes:
>
>>Hi Marek I really don't understand why do you think the urdu newsgroup to
>>be in soc.culture.* subdomain. What difference does it make if it is in
>>rec.arts.poem.* . 
>
>The difference is that a few months from now someone will see it and get
>the bright idea of starting a rec.arts.poems.haiku, rec.arts.poems.catalan
>or rec.arts.poems.sex ...  My objection to placing a "language and culture"
>oriented "Urdu newsgroup" goes as follows:

[other reasons deleted]
>
>   I hope this clarifies the issue a bit.
>
>				-- Marek
>>MEER NAZIR 


Unfortunately, Marek forgot to mention the most important reason:

the initials r.a.p.u. are the same as my proposed newsgroup:


	REC.ARTS.POEMS.UNICORNS


which obviously must take precedence.


I also say that I pretty much agree with Marek's other reasons, though in
general I don't care about it as much as he does.  I personally don't want
to get involved in what is obviously a move to promote a language/culture
and is not really about poetry.  (the only reason I don't want to get
involved is because I know nothing about the language/culture in question)



Yours,

Posthumous O'Toole, Defender of the Realm
-- 
nobody/not even the rain/              	/	   /      /  /    
 /   /   /     /   /   / /     /       /    /    // /    /  /         /    
/     / / /   /   /     /   / /    / /   / / /  /  /   /      /      /
   / /   /   /	/	 / /      //    /   / /     / /      / / / 
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: fullerto@mostaccioli.cis.ohio-state.edu (timothy dwight fullerton)
Subject: What is this poem?
Organization: The Ohio State University Dept. of Computer and Info. Science
Distribution: na
Date: Tue, 6 Oct 1992 03:23:06 GMT



	In about 1985 in Ann Arbor, Michigan I heard a poem and I want to 
find out what it is called and where text and recording might be found.

	It is about a man who is in the process of blowing his head off. 
The time is dilated. An affective description of the man's life flashing 
before his eyes occurs as he squeezes the trigger, as the hammer 
strikes, as the bullet travels down the barrel and flops out of the end, 
as it travels through the air, pushes its way into his skull,etc...
Ultimately he appears in Hell and finds that it is a duplication 
of his life. In stereo, in the background, the words "tighten your 
scalp, tighten your forehead..." bounce around the stereo field.

	I am very interested in finding this poem, as I wish to pick it 
apart for a class.

	Thank you,

		Tim
		fullerto@cis.ohio-state.edu
From: megazone@obsidian.WPI.EDU (MegaZone23)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Poem: The Man I See
Date: 28 Sep 1992 05:46:18 GMT
Organization: WPI USAF -- United Society of Animation Fans
Distribution: usa
NNTP-Posting-Host: obsidian.wpi.edu

In article <20741@plains.NoDak.edu> mcelmury@plains.NoDak.edu (Michael McElmury) writes:
>I'm posting this for someone else:
>THE MAN I SEE
[stuff deleted]
>Then I leave the bathroom
>and go to work.

WOW! That was so close to the way I feel, the reason I wrote Slow Death. 
That was terrific. Please tell the person you posted for that it is very
well done.

###############################################################################
# I have one prejudice, and that is against stupidity.  Use your mind, think! #
#Email megazone@wpi.wpi.edu  Moderator, WPI anime FTP site 130.215.24.1 /anime#
###############################################################################

From: daq@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom)
Date: Wed, 30 Sep 1992 14:57:13 GMT
Subject: Re: Re: () -- ARITHMETIC / Marek
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems

In rec.arts.poems, bob@netxcom.netx.com (Robert Thralls) writes:

> 
> Arithmetic is almost evil.

This is TRULY absurd.

doug
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jstillma@eos.ncsu.edu (JOHN SCOTT TILLMAN)
Subject: Re: Poem--Of a poet
Organization: North Carolina State University
Date: Thu, 1 Oct 1992 20:56:05 GMT

In article <1992Sep29.141026.2800@wixer.cactus.org>, ralph writes:
|> 
--|>                             Of a poet
|> 
|> 
|> She is quiet
|> not heard from
|> for long periods of time
|> then
|> right there suddenly
|> before me
|> she stands deep and strong
|> and shows me some treasure
|> dredged from the bottom
|> of her life.
|> -- 
|> ralph@wixer.cactus.org

 this strikes me as being --|>  Of the poem


Just a friendly oppinion    $-)  ("I wear my sun glasses at night...")

----------------------------------------------------------------------
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: marsi@oz.plymouth.edu (Marsi Wisniewski)
Subject: Game
Reply-To: marsi@oz.plymouth.edu (Marsi Wisniewski)
Organization: Plymouth State College - Plymouth, N.H.
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 92 17:44:58 GMT




Who am I?
I seriously wonder.
What am I?
I sit here and ponder.
Am I really a person? I wonder.
Or am I just a name?
Just another number.
Simply another variable
In this stupid little game?
A game of mirrors and deception,
It is not any fun.
And with this mad
Strive for perfection,
I really despise
What I've become.
This superficial facade of mine,
I no longer can endure.
It's as if I'm living
In a shrine.
And, I know I'll probably never
Be honestly" secure.
I live it all alone,
This marginal existence of mine.
Now I know what must be done.
I give up.
I hereby have decided to resign.



----------------------------------------
Marsi G. Wisniewski

INET: marsi@oz.plymouth.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: sheilah@wam.umd.edu (Sheila Herndon)
Subject: Re: Yes, A Sexual Poem
Organization: University of Maryland, College Park
Date: Mon, 5 Oct 1992 00:00:31 GMT

In article <BvM2zH.4HE@usenet.ucs.indiana.edu> bacarlso@silver.ucs.indiana.edu (Brad Carlson) writes:
>In <moonbeam.717816844@vincent1.iastate.edu> moonbeam@iastate.edu (Timothy J Cockerham) writes:
>
>>	I wish I could feel your warm heart beating as I bury the seed of my 
>>love deeply within you, and you say my name loudly. The love in our hearts
>>joined together, sealed by our passion.
>
>Ahhhh, the ol' seed of my love trick ... 
>
>... Brad



Don't forget the delicate soft mud of my love.





(remembering a scene in a movie that reminds me of all the times I have
ever dipped my hands in wet mud, no wet sand. When you raise your hand and
wet sand (mixed with a little dirt) stays on a finger, this is like making
love. the wet tip of your hand)

(not jesting at you, just wanting to laugh)


-- 
I am always wrong. Don't believe me ever.
stark raving sane  sheilah@wam.umd.edu
From: wachtel@canon.co.uk (Tom Wachtel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Looking for Robert Thralls
Date: 29 Sep 92 09:40:45 GMT
Reply-To: wachtel@canon.co.uk
Organization: Canon Research Centre Europe Ltd

csmcm@ux1.cts.eiu.edu (Mary C. McDaniel) writes:

> I tried to respond to your response-- but your mail was returned as
> undeliverable.  Let me know how to reach you.


	i tried to respond to your response
	but your flame was returned as unkindled
	let me know how to reach you
	if you know my name


just a thought.

-- 

Tom Wachtel (wachtel@canon.co.uk)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: fsjes3@ix.acf-lab.alaska.edu (Jacob E Schuetze)
Subject: Wolf
Organization: University of Alaska Computer Network
Date: Tue, 6 Oct 1992 22:48:20 GMT

It stands motionless in the snow
Its gaze solid and unwavering
Its eyes show no cunning
none of the sly imprecations of its cousins
They show the cold of the arctic
Of logic, of wisdom
They are the window to the beast's soul:
a little darkness, a little light
a little wisdom, a little foolishness
a little love, a little hate
a little happiness, a little sorrow
and a deep glowing strength, honest, solid
He turns and pads gracefully, silently through the snow
His brothers and sisters can be heard raising their sonorous voices
To the glory of the full moon on a cold arctic night
 

Hi, I'm new here. Please reply to some of this stuff either here or at
fsjes3@camelot.acf-lab.alaska.edu
Thanks
    Jacob Schuetze, University of  Alaska, Fairbanks
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: alvin@ucsu.Colorado.EDU (Kenneth Alvin)
Subject: Inside Out
Organization: University of Colorado, Boulder
Date: Thu, 1 Oct 1992 15:54:22 GMT



This is a revision of a previous work posted here.  Thanks to those who
wrote with suggestions.


                                   Inside Out
                                   ----------


                               In the land of inside
                                 out I felt awash in
                                   rhythms gentle as
                                       a rinse cycle,
                                   danced a thousand
                                tangos with peacocks;
                                             wanting 
                            to understand their laws 
                              of gravity and traffic
                                   I kidnapped a cop,
                                   made him drive in
                                     circles while I
                                       tossed apples
                                        at taxi cabs;
                                  the drivers cursed
                                       me in english
                                   and gave me money.
                                       I was rich as
                                       a cat and ate
                             spider plants for water;
                                    I'll never own a
                                 fur coat as fine as
                                    that coat in the
                                  land of inside out.


-- 
comments, criticism welcome...
-Ken
alvin@ucsu.colorado.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jwalsh@morgan.ucs.mun.ca (Jason Walsh  )
Subject: Two Poems
Organization: Memorial University of Newfoundland
Date: Tue, 6 Oct 1992 13:14:51 GMT

                            Mules

As I tumble through life on my pink bicycle,
I wonder why that stuff that follows me is so ........
STICKY.



                    Roasted Critters

I look to the sky when all else fails,
When worms feast upon deer entrails,
And in the sky I envision a face,
All warm and friendly all teeth in place,
I scream as it falls and crushes me.


These two works are from the demented files of the poetic wheelbarrow.

Courtesy of:
Jason Walsh.
From: wachtel@canon.co.uk (Tom Wachtel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Late summer rain
Date: 6 Oct 92 15:06:41 GMT
Reply-To: wachtel@canon.co.uk
Organization: Canon Research Centre Europe Ltd

dz22+@andrew.cmu.edu (Daniel L. Zabell) writes:

>                                late summer rainfall
>                                dew rolls off flower petals
>                                breath steams up t'wards sky


this reminds me of march/april 1991:


> > wlod:
> >                Dew on rose petals
> >                Wine in glass
> >                I drown
> > 
> me:
>                Due in hospital
>                Whining glass-eyed ruin


it appears that the most common occurrences of the three characters
'd'+'e'+'w' occur in 'dew' and 'sideways' on rap. this is important.

	if you slip and slide on sideways dew
	you slideways dew the boogaloo
	this springly step of musely autumn mews
	the meusli breakfast over papered news
	duly petalled flowers
	sprinkle sprinkly sprinkle
	and the oak trees all whisper:
	how dew yew dew
	sideways


-- 

Tom Wachtel (wachtel@canon.co.uk)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: Patrick Parker <pharmacy@epx.cis.umn.edu> 
Subject: Gentle Spring
Reply-To: pharmacy@epx.cis.umn.edu
Organization: University of Minnesota
Distribution: na
Date: Wed, 7 Oct 1992 01:30:12 GMT

Gentle Spring


Come gentle spring, come gentle night,
bring your peace upon my brow tonight.
Silence is your sound, fresh is your air,
listen slightly to my heart felt prayer.
The key to your tranquility, I've felt before,
laughter in the clouds, I play your old chord.
Let them.., let them breathe it in,
bow my head as I hear you sing.
  Come gentle spring.
  Come winter night, insight you bring.

I've waited so long, for my breath to see,
Starlit night of wishes I will plea.
Cat upon my lap, peers up in gentle support,
seasons pass by with their usual consort.
Looking within my webs of manipulation,
silence gives me my private concentration.
Propaganda reigns in this world of illusion,
truth will be exposed by gentle revolution.
  Winter night's conclusion.
  Come newborn spring, ready for confusion.

I breathe you in, you will not beguile me,
for this season a new start you will see.
I'll not be coaxed, cooerced into submission,
your winter has awakened me to my decision.
Times for thought and ambivalance are dismissed,
love for your life, and mine are to be kissed.
Examine the future and treasures it possesses,
my trials and losses I'll loudly confess.
My eyes now wide open, happiness is easy,
the future is overwhelming, my ship upon the sea.
  The gentle wind blew,
  the gentle spring passed,
  the gentle words came,
  the chains of confusion cast.
From: daq@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Desire for the Land
Date: 25 Sep 92 15:08:18 GMT
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA

In rec.arts.poems, donz@ui.org (Posthumous O'Toole) writes:

> 
> I would like to add my voice in order to form an O'Toole chorus of praise
> for this fellow. 

As long as people realize that you are not empowered to speak for
the militant faction of the O'Tooles.

doug
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: marek@casbah.acns.nwu.edu (Marek Lugowski)
Subject: Re: Not A Love Sonnet
Organization: Northwestern University, Evanston Illinois.
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 1992 05:30:54 GMT

Would someone please second the motion that Sharon Hopkins writes wonderful
stuff, and this piece is no exception?  It merits study.  (Hey, there might
lurk imperfections. *smile*)

				-- Marek
>
>    Not A Love Sonnet
>
>    I watch you in the slowly changing light,
>    as eyes turn brown from gold (though ever green).
>    I watch your smile crinkle, shift and fade,
>    and watch your hands move (wishing over skin,
>    my skin, they moved).  Perhaps you're not so thin
>    as once you were -- but still my eyes have strayed
>    to watch your body (wishing over mine).
>    I watch the curling hairs around your ear,
>    the back of neck, -- the play of muscles there,
>    as slow you move (or quick).  My eyes are tuned
>    for every motion, weaving light and air
>    (and something magic: heat, and not-quite-fear)
>    to make a music eyes and skin can hear:
>    that music makes my world, if just tonight.
>
>
>--Sharon Hopkins
>  sharon@netlabs.com
>  Sept. 27, 1992


Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ralph@wixer.cactus.org (Ralph Cherubini)
Subject: Poem--New to the planet
Organization: Real/Time Communications
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 92 14:48:03 GMT


                        New to the planet

New to the planet
swamped with discoveries
they did not know how to categorize it
a strange creature
each time they released it
it flew to a rock and sat there
making endless sounds
never stopping
day and night
they finally decided it resembled
nothing
more closely than
a poet.
They called it the Poet-bird.
From: cecilw@access.isc-br.com (Cecil Williams)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: stacked in your brains
Date: 2 Oct 92 21:42:24 GMT
Organization: ISC-Bunker Ramo, Spokane, WA


 TordM@VanA.PhySto.SE writes:
>
> I am TORD the turd
> ...rest of this "delightful" verse deleted...


 Sniff...
 Sniff sniff sniff...
 Did somebody shit?



Cecil
From: zen@death.Corp.Sun.COM (d)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: eukanuba
Date: 27 Sep 1992 06:33:04 GMT
Organization: Sun Microsystems Inc., Mountain View, CA
NNTP-Posting-Host: death.corp.sun.com


its the search -- the search that matters
ive stumbled across yet another path
full of rusting american autos
with trunks full of flat tires and sadness
is this the one i seek
is this road any worse
or cold or paved with sleep
too much choice is the problem
too many voices and carpenters
and mountains claiming to be the one
but this trail is torn and stale
it doesnt speak at all is it worth a lifetime
how can i spare a day a step another failure
will i end up rotting
rusting with a chrysler lebaron
with a bullet hole in the sunroof
and still no proof
that i even exist or sing
but the search
the search is everything
From: dz22+@andrew.cmu.edu (Daniel L. Zabell)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Haiku--my window
Date: 29 Sep 92 01:11:21 GMT
Organization: Freshman, H&SS general, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA


                                 my window
                            
                            Windows in our walls:
                            Why go try and break windows
                            when we can break frames?


                                                Dan Zabell
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: h.- for september
From: jabolliger@miavx3.mid.muohio.edu
Date: 25 Sep 92 13:42:53 EST

In article <5131@sumax.seattleu.edu>, abenoit@sumax.seattleu.edu (Chavaleh) writes:
>>>>Haiku for September
>>>>
>>>
> #1 Aspen leaves like gold-
>>>>fish scales tremble in descent
>>>>blessing weathered streets
> 
> #2 Fuzzy fir fingers
>>> bending, bestowing touch--
>>> Evergreen embrace
> 
> #3 Promising crisp skies,
>>  wind strokes the unfamiliar
>>  cheek with winter thrill
> 
> HERE IS MY ADDITION 
> TO THE HAIKU CASCADE:
> 
> #4 Maples sift groundward
>    shaded leaves steeped in sunbeams.
>    Scentings of whispers.
> 20 September 1992

Oh and another one..

      September walnuts
      hang gravid on black branches
      until October.
25 September 1992
			ja
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: klaw@ecst.csuchico.edu (Almighty Nodens the Master of the Elder Sign)
Subject: Actually written for a performance - Jason Livingston
Organization: California State University, Chico
Date: Sat, 26 Sep 1992 08:46:08 GMT


Nails dig into flesh
under your nails flesh
torn from my bones flesh
take me home
take me home

I learn to breath
  learn to see
Forced  against the wall
ahh     against the door
ahhhh   against the ground
ahh ahhhh  his body
penetration so hard I bleed
blood and sperm run down my legs
heavy sweet smell of shit juice
cries fade
poison tears
wash the day away
within the night
			9-17-92 Jason Livingston
klaw@ecst.csuchico.edu

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: alvin@ucsu.Colorado.EDU (Kenneth Alvin)
Subject: Re: The Beatles
Organization: University of Colorado, Boulder
Distribution: usa
Date: Fri, 2 Oct 1992 15:57:06 GMT

In article <1992Oct1.004550.10062@eos.arc.nasa.gov> kyrsten@eos.arc.nasa.gov (Kyrsten Swazey) writes:
>                       THE BEATLES
>The beatles try to hide -

At this point, I had an image of John, Paul, George, and Ringo rushing
from airplane to a limo in New York in 1964.

>they cover their eyes with dust.
>mothballs alive; eating out
>leaving the core of rot and gore,

Yucho, that vision of the Fab Four is completely gone...

>any reactions?

Sort of how I feel after smooshing a wolf spider in the bedroom,
ehhhh!   Some strong images, though, and internal rhyming.


>_XTC_

-Ken

-- 
comments, criticism welcome...
-Ken
alvin@ucsu.colorado.edu
From: petersm@jacobs.CS.ORST.EDU (Marguerite Petersen)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: hormonely yours
Date: 30 Sep 92 22:41:29 GMT
Organization: Computer Science Outreach Services - Oregon State University

In article <1992Sep30.190215.20085@honte.uleth.ca> watson@hg.uleth.ca writes:
>
>E motionally, challenged, you say, so
>S tay away! Until I tell you otherwise but
>T ell me repeatedly that you love me and while you're at it
>R id me of this ache.
>O ver-reacting, Ovulating, O fuck off!
>G entle please, my breasts are tender from
>E rotic dreams and nightmare days.
>N ow you get over here! And give me a hug, dammit.
>
>- Carol
>with inspiration from Libby Doe

I *really* liked this!  It gave me my smile for the day.

Kathleen O'Toole
Bringer of Light
From: gilligan6855@iscsvax.uni.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: remember the garden
Date: 2 Oct 92 15:27:52 GMT
Organization: University of Northern Iowa

i remember the garden when i was small.
we had beans, planted every year, growing into
a thick green net by the back shed.
we had carrots i never would eat, and 
tall tomato plants.  i remember the smell
of their leaves.  and sunflowers--
so many sunflowers, so effortlessly grown,
arcing high against the neighbor's stone wall.
we had rhubarb.  that comes back every year,
no matter what.  the rhubarb was good
dipped in sugar.  we had the best rhubarb
because we didn't try to placate it with cowshit,
and ruin the flavor in the process.  but the 
leaves were still poisonous.  that element of 
danger in the sweetness.

we don't grow beans anymore--
my father's knees hurt to bend and plant them,
and my mother has grown too old to pick them.
besides, the insects bother her eyes.
the carrots were never very successful,
so we don't bother.  the watermelon
my idealistic father tried to plant never
grew, and the rhubarb was crowded out
by a fugitive maple helicopter seed
that made a tall tall tree in only
a few years.

this year my attempts to grow sunflowers
were foiled by the ever growing numbers
of hungry birds and squirrels.  no matter how
many coffee cans i stacked over my treasure
nothing grew.  i hid one among the tomatoes
to mask the smell and it blossomed.  my mother
says it is small but beautiful, but i haven't
been home to see it.  it is only one sunflower.


*********************************************************************

a reaction to my parents' illness and my evergrowing feelings
of nostalgia.  i cringe at the word, but those sunflowers
were so important to me. 
comments?

carolee
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jondarr@macadam.mpce.mq.edu.au (jondarr c g h 2 gibb)
Subject: Vaguely Naked
Organization: Macquarie University, Australia.
Date: Thu, 1 Oct 1992 22:57:38 GMT


This is one of those combined efforty things between Lizzy and myself.
It doesn't rhyme.


        Vaguely Naked

The trees look vaguely naked,
  standing tall without their leaves
And their knobbly grey protrusions
  reaching out to take me in,
I often feel their touch as I
  brush by their twigged demesnes,
Far too hurried to be startled
  by their thin intimacies.

I've walked around the carpet
  of their children, being careful
Not to injure them in autumn play,
  entangled in the roots of love,
I never pealed back the bark to reveal
  the fleshiness to winter's wind,
And when they bow, then so do I,
  in deciduous courtesy.

I've not been known to mingle with eucalypts -
  those proud, protective parents
Who will never let their children play
  out in the openness freely,
I shun their society completely
  for the pretty-green leaves I love
And the orange-brown change when
  the trees look vaguely naked.

			1st October, 1992



All words copyright Elizabeth Elinore Gulliver.
E E Gulliver and Lizzy Gulliver are unregistered trademarks of
    Elizabeth Elinore Gulliver Inc.
Patent Pending satisfactory proof of life on Betelgeuse 5.

s8701876@mackay.mpce.mq.edu.au

                    
              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