HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: bunny@bsu-cs.bsu.edu (Marsh)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Poem - Amber
Date: 13 Oct 92 03:03:00 GMT
Organization: CS Dept, Ball St U, Muncie, Indiana


AMBER

Ever amber crystalline
and if it please you, sir;
the two have fallen in a spell
with spider shadow, wings,
their wills obscured
my mistress did it, dared me speak
(her brother is the king, you know)
for fear of death or worse.

The yellow fade has drowned the light
their incandescence fair enrobed
and loosed my tongue, sir;
and solid honey coffins bring
despair to them as you who loved
the two imprisoned fast
and doors without were never cast
for tomb so final as we see.

Fay', she will box me, tear my hair
if ever she finds out!  Sir!
I implore you, keep your silence!
A sepulchre as these was never meant
in even fancy for the likes of
my poor body, bless you!
Dance your magic, dabble, spring
the lightning quick beneath your beard.

Nay, ever amber crystalline
your magic failed, poor wizard
you have never strength enough to best
the beast that tickles near your
hoary feeble gold and fickle
ancient dying wizened breast...sir;
and too-late learn your error -
many witches sculpt in topaz.


-Tracy Flynn-Marsh
From: steele@aem.umn.edu (Stephanie Steele)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: unfinished poem
Summary: unfinished poem
Keywords: unfinished poem
Date: 7 Oct 92 21:04:02 GMT
Organization: University of Minnesota

the sky forgot to turn blue
and the basswood in front
of our house on stanford
can't remember green only
whiskey and yellow
letting go, letting go
(sometimes the wind will startle
it into dropping
a hundred fistsfull-
other times only one
leaf falls- the way
a cigarette falls from a sleeping hand)
tidy lawns are on fire
a quiet catastrophe
(i ask my husband if the neighbors
will come to our yard
and rake up their own dead)
this red palm
does not belong
to me

sls (my correct address- steele@chip.aem.umn.edu)
what's up out there?
From: daq@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom)
Date: Mon, 12 Oct 1992 03:49:52 GMT
Subject: Re: Shades of Green
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems

In rec.arts.poems, sheilah@wam.umd.edu (Sheila Herndon) writes:

> In article <264@uiunix.ui.org> donz@ui.org (Posthumous O'Toole) writes:
> >In article <1992Oct8.134002.1425@cbnews.cb.att.com> webdw@cbnews.cb.att.com (bruce.d.woods) writes:
> >>In article <262@uiunix.ui.org> donz@ui.org (Don Zirilli) writes:
> >>>
> >>> [my article deleted]
> >>
> >>
> >>BIGGEST WASTE OF BANDWIDTH I'VE EVER SEEN!
> >
> >Well, NOW the biggest waste of bandwith you've ever seen is your re-posting
> >of my entire article.
> >
> >
> >Yours anyway,
> >
> >Posthumous O'Toole
> 
> 
> 
> I think he was making a joke. How do you know he isn't referring
> to his action? 
> 
> I'm jealous because everyone picks on you now and never me. I just
> try and try to get all the attention but darmit, you keep out-witting
> me. :p 
> 
> laugh laugh laugh.
> I'm going to stick my hand in your mouth until someone picks on me.

Jesus Sheila, give it a rest!

Happy now?

doug
From: tammy@cs.umd.edu (Tammy Hayden)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: USA???
Date: 8 Oct 92 18:56:02 GMT
Distribution: usa
Organization: Computer Science Department, University of Maryland, College Park



		USA???


I looked out the window and what did I see???
Certainly not a land I thought it to be...
People going hungry, living in a box...
Having not a pair of shoes nor socks...
Factories and cars poluting all the air...
How are we suppose to survive when no one really cares???
Water all around us, but not enough to drink...
Time will only tell if we float or if we sink...
This is suppose to be a land where we can all be free...
Can this be possible we'll have to wait and see...



			-Tammy Hayden
			 tammy@cs.umd.edu
From: donz@ui.org (Posthumous O'Toole)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Calliope O'Toole
Date: 13 Oct 92 14:27:51 GMT
Distribution: na
Organization: UNIX International, Parsippany, NJ

Dear rap,

I post the following for the dear Calliope O'Toole.  She hopes that through
this poem Joe will pity her and return.  And it may be just the thing to
bring him over.

Come home Joe


It's spring and in the garden here
it's even worse than you could fear
the baby poets all are sprouting
my reverie broken by their spouting
reams of verse so blank and gormless
with subjects sexual and formless

And all the flowers are dewly petalled
just when I thought the matter settled
and o god there are haikus growing
It's so long since you did the mowing
they clog the soul where they appear
I though you poisoned them last year

The roses, dearest one, I swear
are having to young girls compare
quite daily although god knows why
and nightly when the moon is high
old words like "June" and "tune" abound
when ones like "spitoon" should be found

So please return all is forgiven
before to reaping grim I'm driven
and please do bring your pruning shears
and make the morlocks bring their spears
THEN we will have a working bee
of satire sweet and parody

My garden will no more be florid
with littered leaves of triplets horrid
but be set out in serried rows
of your belle-lettres bellicose
and in our hammocks with our fans
we'll snuggle down with verse that scans


Calliope O'Toole
-- 
nobody/not even the rain/              	/	   /      /  /    
 /   /   /     /   /   / /     /       /    /    // /    /  /         /    
/     / / /   /   /     /   / /    / /   / / /  /  /   /      /      /
   / /   /   /	/	 / /      //    /   / /     / /      / / / 
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: steele@aem.umn.edu (Stephanie Steele)
Subject: how not to stop a war
Summary: how not to stop a war
Keywords: how not to stop a war
Organization: University of Minnesota
Date: Wed, 7 Oct 1992 17:27:31 GMT

the federal building
on wilshire blvd
is designed to platform
dissent
plantation lawn
concrete stage sprawl
spider-like attracting five thousand
moving slogans
different alphabets
a run-on sea of protest swp dwa ysa rcp cispes
while parasitics
hunch and canker
over humming cogs hatching
bodies politic
inside
unmarked drones
translate war
into peace
anger into momentary insanity
silencing the buzz
of the organized mess  
sagging in their web
wouldn't it have been fun
to abandon the well intended speeches
and build a sentence complete enough to jam
machinery and reveal very small
men flipping levers
nervously
without power?

sls
From: cdl0915@ritvax.isc.rit.edu (Christian Dylan Losinger)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Empty words
Date: 8 Oct 92 14:23:07 GMT
Reply-To: cdl0915@ritvax.isc.rit.edu
Organization: Rochester Institute of Technology

In article <1992Oct6.153907.27012@hobbes.kzoo.edu>, k084118@hobbes.kzoo.edu (Pamela S. Rivers) writes:
>
>He speaks to me and those that will listen
>or pretend to
>loudly, like the sound of a jack hammer
>and like the jack hammer 
>the noise means nothing to me


	Wonderful. I love it. I love everything about it. If it were a woman, i
would propose...

	-c
        --------------------------------------------------------------
        	c  h  r  i  s   l  o  s  i  n  g  e  r   r  i  t
From: alk4@ellis.uchicago.edu (Alex L. Karan)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Surgery by Candle Light
Date: 11 Oct 92 03:33:24 GMT
Reply-To: alk4@midway.uchicago.edu
Organization: University of Chicago Computing Organizations


Let me know If I can safely return
to the words.



oh, here's a poem for ya.


Romantic
--------


Surgery 
by candle light;
Open heart.

Etherized by Bach
the surgeon
makes the kindest cut.

A tailor standing by
with neele threaded,
ready.

The patient awakes
a glass of bubbly at hand;

he says "do you?"
she says "I do".

Someone nearby 
faints.



Alex L. Karan
From: hornpete@uctvax.uct.ac.za (Peter Horn)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Inevitable - Hide and Seek
Date: 13 Oct 92 06:51:30 +0200
Organization: University of Cape Town

INEVITABLE
----------

they did get me
after all
they summoned the
village idiot
to be censor:

he decided
that my poems
were different from those
in the first grade reader
and thus dangerous to the state

HIDE AND SEEK
-------------

Take care in the night and
hide behind straw huts and bushes
hide behind drums and guitars
hide behind laughter and tears
hide behind singsong and sunshine

Take care in the night
I have seen a red eye
and an iron net to drag the slums
a net of darkness and cunning

Take care in the night and
hide behind yes baas and no baas


Peter Horn

-- 
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Peter Horn 
German Department, UCT 
43 Trevor Road, Lansdowne 7764, Cape, Republic of  South Africa . 
Phone Home ZA-(021)696-1983		e-Mail: HORNPETE@UCTVAX.UCT.AC.ZA 
      Work ZA-(021)650-2936		Fax ZA-(021) 650-3726 
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Peter Horn, Walking through our sleep (Poems), Ravan Press 1974
Peter Horn, Poems 1964-1989, Ravan Press 1991
Peter Horn, An Axe in the Ice (Poems), COSAW Publishing House 
forthcoming September/October 1992
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Ravan Press, P.O.Box 31134, Braamfontein 2017, Republic of South Africa
COSAW Publishing House, P.O.Box 421007, Fordsburg 2033, Republic of 
South Africa.
USA: Ohio University Press Fax (614) 593-4536
Britain: Central Books, Fax (71) 378-1811
Australia: New Era Books, Fax (02) 596-0045
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: steele@aem.umn.edu (Stephanie Steele)
Subject: Re: depressed cows
Organization: University of Minnesota
Date: Tue, 13 Oct 1992 15:46:38 GMT

poor sad cows...and girl :-(

sls
--

=======================================================================
			   Stephanie Steele
			steele@chip.aem.umn.edu
From: mrxall01@uctvax.uct.ac.za
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: ALLAN MUIR:POEM II
Date: 8 Oct 92 16:11:49 +0200
Organization: University of Cape Town

  WIND
  ----

The whisper of dawn
The window twixt me and 
The waves of green along a hedge in
The wind,
Transverse to the sweet morning 
cries of neighbouring infancy
- rise and fall of sound crossing sight.

The exit and now 
The shades of driving underneath 
  some bridge
preceding the toxic feeling of 
alighting 
arrival
at me 
polystyrene fillings flying down the
street like little white gangsters in 
a gust of rush
and now I look up to 
The turn-on of a girl tying up her 
hair while walking midst 
floral dresses obviously not wishing
to be confined to the limits
of being worn - shrugged by
           the wind

An ocean of colour made choppy 
by the unseen
shortly before the rising sun,
insistent on seeing the sea,
shows a blood red face
having left behind
  (in an American Memphis)
Dreams fading like wisps of smoke
on a Jazz pianist,
     reflected on the brass of 
             Sax . . .

For the soft recollection
of breeze on face,
 comes a full force gale
hitting hard reality
 tornado    
of a crushing blow
 whirlwind 
of confusion
 Hurry Cane
For Abel's blood cries from
The sidewalk

(And I narrowly missed
 talking to the tramp
 'bout Jesus . . .)
until someone reaches the eye 
of the storm
and hears daybreak whisper
"You can't stay in there forever"

For effervescent visions 
know the limits
of escape
And all in all:-

When everything has blown full circle
Mother Nature's made her kill
And I for one have told my kind
We'll basically wind up
   being wind.



ALLAN MUIR
----------
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: colossal@cbnewsg.cb.att.com (colossal Microscope)
Subject: colossal Microscope: the origin
Keywords: colossal Microscope
Organization: AT&T
Date: Tue, 13 Oct 1992 19:11:27 GMT



	colossal Microscope: the origin
	-------------------------------

	let us start at the beginning
	that is a good place to start

	it began with olives
	specifically
	            the purchase of olives
	            by my then-girlfriend now-wife

	personally
	          i don't like olives
	          and never bought them

	until
	     grocery shopping
	     on that fateful day

	i suppose
	         that only in america
	         is there such a variety of olive sizes 
	         one may purchase 

	did i mention
	that these are pitted olives

	oh yes
	      pitted olives
	
	starting at the left
	of the olive section
	one could purchase

	extra-small olives

	next 
	moving right

	small olives

	then
	medium olives

	large olives

	extra-large olives

	and if that was not big enough

	yes
	   
	YES

	colossal olives

	instantly an image
	from a b-movie trailer appears
	in my mind

	a colossal olive 
	rolling through
	a small midwestern town
	destroying 
	          everyone & everything in its path

	the air force is called
	for a tactical nuclear strike
	nothing else has been able to stop it yet

	it may be the last hope for humanity
	god help us all

	(fade back to grocery store)

	i was filled with creative wonderment

	filled with the knowledge
	that a person
	any person
	could buy

	COLOSSAL OLIVES

	well 
	there's the first word
	-- first word, three syllables

	and now
	for the second word
	-- second word, three syllables

	i've always been interested 
	in science

	in my youth
	i had a skillcraft lab set
	with a microscope 
	                 test tubes 
	                 & slides of diatoms

	spent lots of time
	looking at objects 
	through that miscroscope
	
	a few years ago
	i stumbled upon 
	a rubber stamp
	with an image of a MICROSCOPE

	whenever people at work
	see that microscope stamped image
	they know it's my handiwork

	putting together
	the first word/influence
	with
	the second word/influence

	thus became

	colossal Microscope

	two words
	two ideas
	became 
	      one phrase
	      one name

	a signature per se
	a point of departure
	for all my
	          words
	          &
	          art



                        Copyright 1992  Jack Thomas Weres                       
                        All Rights Reserved.  Personal use copies okay.         

---

c         _     m         
 o        \\     i        
  l      ((\\     c      
   o      (\___    r      
    s      ||       o                     -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
     s  ========     s                      -=-=-   jack thomas weres   -=-=-
      a               c                       -=-=- jtw@acpfs.att.com -=-=-
       l               o                        -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
                        p                                  |||
                         e                                 |||
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: steele@aem.umn.edu (Stephanie Steele)
Subject: Re: PLEASE READ THIS!!!
Organization: University of Minnesota
Date: Fri, 16 Oct 1992 15:07:23 GMT

chris,

i'd take mr. lugowski's remarks with a grain of salt. many of us argue
that learning should indeed be a collective process/effort. i believe
that one of the major drawbacks of academics is that it is too often
solitary work. this holds true in the liberal arts more than the sciences
of course, where most of our 'great leaps forward' have indeed been
results of the collaborative imagination/research at its best.
i applaud your attempt to broaden your research inqueries, and am only
sorry that i don't have anything brilliant to say about mr. williams
lovely poem.

good luck,

sls

--

=======================================================================
			   Stephanie Steele
			steele@chip.aem.umn.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: nagji@ntc02.tele.nokia.fi
Subject: Untitled gem
Organization: Nokia Telecommunications.
Date: Wed, 14 Oct 1992 16:53:37 GMT

I'm posting this for a special friend.....

These days, rational thought seems hard to find
when my emotions and heart are playing games with my mind.
I can't help but feel that if you loved me more
you wouldn't have pushed me away.
I wanted to be there for you, as a shoulder and a friend.
I thought you were a kindred spirit.
Was I wrong?

Each moment, each word, was precious to me, 
because I knew each could be the last.
But you had to go and I am trying to understand why.
Why couldn't you have just savored the time we had?
Why did you look to the future and only see pain and loss?
Or perhaps that was just an excuse for waning interest...

And yet part of me knows it is best.
There was no hope of a future for us, so to
continue this way was a form of torture.
But if pain can be sweet, then it was honey
laced with heroin to me.
Perhaps we were fools,
but you were such a rush.

You were an addiction.
You seemed to be everything I wanted, 
and nothing I could have.

Now I go cold turkey.

I knew that I would be wounded by this encounter.  
I always do when I fall deeper than the other.
I let it happen once before, and I swore never again.
And now look at me.  Such a fool.  

Such bittersweet, intense pain.

You breathed new life into me.
You snuck in through the cracks of this hardened shell,
Got me to laugh, to fall in love, again.
Now the vitality is fading, a piece of my soul is withering...

Perhaps it is good in some sad way, 
that you hurt me by being diffident, and aloof.
Your dishonesty makes it easier to let go.
A crack in the myth of the person I never really got to know.
It made you more real.  Less ideal.
But even so, I wish you could have explained it better.
I have so many unanswered questions that creep out of the 
shadows of yesterday and invade my thoughts of tomorrow.

I released you, but my heart still holds on.

I told you to call if you needed me, anytime.
But you have not.  
Are you really that strong?
..Or is it just a lack of caring?

Is the pain I feel from loss, or a wounded ego?

I try to convince myself that it is pointless 
to long for a love unrequited.
Pull up your socks.  Move on.
But right now my heart is too heavy to lift 
past the ruins of our relationship.

I laugh. I joke. I smile.  When friends are around.
But alone, I am exposed.
The music keeps me going.   
I cling to it, adrift.
And for a few precious moments, I do not ache for you...  
======================


Xref: sparky rec.arts.poems:9977 alt.personals:20413 alt.suicide.holiday:2378 alt.prose:1383
From: megazone@joseph.WPI.EDU (MegaZone23)
Newsgroups: wpi.students.vox,rec.arts.poems,alt.personals,alt.suicide.holiday,alt.prose
Subject: Trust
Date: 15 Oct 92 11:38:50 GMT
Organization: Worcester Polytechnic Institute
NNTP-Posting-Host: joseph.wpi.edu

Trust

It doesn't seem that long since we met
I knew you were special from the start
Knew that you were the one
I wanted you by my side
You were the one to share my life's adventures
I knew I could trust you

You've been faithful
Following me through my trials
Always by my side
Ever supportive
Making my life fuller
I knew I could trust you

This one act I ask of you
I beg your agreement
You cannot you say
My eyes plead with you silently
You agree reluctantly
I knew I could trust you

I prepare myself for the evening
This is an incredible night
You arrive on time, prepared
A last thank you and you raise the sword
Just one blow, your aim was true
I knew I could trust you

megazone, the bible wasn't meant to have a Micky Spilane twist ending, 10/15/92
From: hornpete@uctvax.uct.ac.za (Peter Horn)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Daydream (poem)
Date: 8 Oct 92 09:56:35 +0200
Organization: University of Cape Town

DAYDREAM
--------

to live in
a town

not worrying about
two pounds
of passports
and other documents

taking a taxi
a bottle
a smile

down north
into the suburbs

with the swirl of speed
blurred against the glass

just pop in for a drink

yeah, not if you live in
this town


Peter Horn
-- 
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Peter Horn 
German Department, UCT 
43 Trevor Road, Lansdowne 7764, Cape, Republic of  South Africa . 
Phone Home ZA-(021)696-1983		e-Mail: HORNPETE@UCTVAX.UCT.AC.ZA 
      Work ZA-(021)650-2936		Fax ZA-(021) 650-3726 
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Peter Horn, Walking through our sleep (Poems), Ravan Press 1974
Peter Horn, Poems 1964-1989, Ravan Press 1991
Peter Horn, An Axe in the Ice (Poems), COSAW Publishing House 
forthcoming September/October 1992
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Ravan Press, P.O.Box 31134, Braamfontein 2017, Republic of South Africa
COSAW Publishing House, P.O.Box 421007, Fordsburg 2033, Republic of 
South Africa.
USA: Ohio University Press Fax (614) 593-4536
Britain: Central Books, Fax (71) 378-1811
Australia: New Era Books, Fax (02) 596-0045
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: donz@ui.org (Posthumous O'Toole)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Sisyphet
Date: 14 Oct 92 18:32:08 GMT
Organization: UNIX International, Parsippany, NJ

Sisyphet


O my darling Sisyphet,
Von Sternberg sends you down again,
Down the opal stairway.

The lighting hides your nose
And your pale skin glows.

Once more you descend
In plumes of purple feathers,
Amid the marvelling crew.

The lighting hides your nose
And your pale skin glows.

Men believed that Joshua
Hid somewhere in your thighs:
They heard his golden horn.

The lighting hides your nose
And your pale skin glows.

I will never see the purple
Or the gold, or the rouge,
My darling, ghostly gray.

The lighting hides your nose
And your pale skin glows.


Posthumous O'Toole
10-14-92
-- 
nobody/not even the rain/              	/	   /      /  /    
 /   /   /     /   /   / /     /       /    /    // /    /  /         /    
/     / / /   /   /     /   / /    / /   / / /  /  /   /      /      /
   / /   /   /	/	 / /      //    /   / /     / /      / / / 
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: kammerer@cwis.unomaha.edu (Al Kammerer)
Subject: Vegetative Error
Organization: University of Nebraska at Omaha
Date: Sat, 10 Oct 1992 01:00:10 GMT


Weeds edge beneath the sun
Ambiguous foliage
Genius of parallels
May prove ornamental
They whisper to weeders

Once bold stands shout our eyes'
Narrow sense of decorum
Squint to focus tidy 
Thoughts presuming that mass
Is not so bad at all.

The gardens of our souls use time
To grow into forms proving life,
So if one struggles within rows
With illusions of intention
The biological time-clock
May strike to sharpen, to calibrate,
To remind our moral whims err.

Judgement vines along grounds new
Each day to survey its line
Through the course, around,
Over, or along obstacles
More or less concrete,
Avoiding darkness by elongating
To future compact cells
Hastened with light.

Do roots pour new sap into green molds
To think employing illusion,
Or to anchor the mind within the best
Possible gardens without
Broaching the demise of rocks
In desert climates
That do not forgive to endure?
From: jack@dcs.glasgow.ac.uk (Jack Campin)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Looking for e e cummings poems.
Date: 14 Oct 92 18:06:31 GMT
Reply-To: jack@dcs.glasgow.ac.uk (Jack Campin)
Organization: COMANDOS Project, Glesga Yoonie

DED110@psuvm.psu.edu (Dan the Man) wrote:
> Does anyone know of an anon-ftp site that has e e cummings poems archived?

There better not be one.  cummings died in 1962, so his poems are copyright
till at least 2012.


-- 
--  Jack Campin    room G092, Computing Science Department, Glasgow University,
17 Lilybank Gardens, Glasgow G12 8RZ, Scotland   TEL: 041 339 8855 x6854 (work)
INTERNET: jack@dcs.glasgow.ac.uk or via nsfnet-relay.ac.uk    FAX: 041 330 4913
BANG!net: via mcsun and uknet     BITNET: via UKACRL    UUCP: jack@glasgow.uucp
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: sheilah@wam.umd.edu (Sheila Herndon)
Subject: turtles Re: Shades of Green...The Answer
Organization: University of Maryland, College Park
Date: Tue, 13 Oct 1992 19:58:03 GMT


Don also wrote a poem with turtles in it. I was lamenting that I could
not lucidly rhyme, and that someone should write a poems with turtles
in it. Don responded with a turtle poem with inside rhyme.
-- 
I am always wrong. Don't believe me ever.
stark raving sane  sheilah@wam.umd.edu