HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: ga@mrih.no (Gard Abrahamsen)
Subject: Dinner for two
Organization: KJAKAH production
X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.1 PL8]
Date: Tue, 26 Jan 93 11:05:03 GMT

		Dinner for two
		(dedicated to Carrie D. Nicholson
		 after a virtual dinner on IRC...)
==================================================
		Dinner
		a dinner for two
		two at the dinner
		table, just us
		and a candle between
		that lights up the
		dark... dark...
		all around us, but
		still we smile
		at eachother, we
		stare in eachothers
		eyes, stare, stare,
		finger eachother,
		make .plans
		big .plans
		and they come true
		===========================================================
						          GEA Jan 25th 1993


     _____
    / o o \  <== Self portrait
===OO=====OO=================================================================
= Gard Eggesboe Abrahamsen                         PO Box 5061, Larsgaarden =
= Gard.Abrahamsen@mrih.no                             6021 Aalesund, Norway =
= finger ga@samson.mrih.no and read the .plan    (last update: Jan 25th 93) =
=============================================================================
    \_/ \_/  <== shoe size 42            ^^^ reduced .signature

PS! Something tells me that I perhaps should change my .plan back... those who
    read the previous one, what do you think? DS!
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: lichter@oahu.cs.ucla.edu (Michael I. Lichter)
Subject: KeysWiz
Organization: UCLA, Computer Science Department
Date: Thu, 21 Jan 93 08:50:34 GMT

	KeysWiz
	--------------------------------------

	ample sand shifts a carrot 
	and a star licks till the bar
	pounds and bangs and
	the dolls are parents 
	these shrieking equal signs 
	in brackish accents
	citing quotations and cutting air 
	with slash and back and slash
	like a colon or a colon 
	smashed by a semi during escape
	from a dot at space station zero
	while two plus three typists
	clear the option for control
	and pick up my overdue tab

		Michael Lichter
		January 21, 1993
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: marek@casbah.acns.nwu.edu (Marek Lugowski)
Subject: haircut! / Marek
Organization: Northwestern University, Evanston Illinois.
Date: Sun, 24 Jan 1993 00:24:29 GMT


		haircut!
		-------------------------------------------------------------

		i just paid 20 dollars for a haircut!
		
		that is way more than i expected to pay,
		seeing the posted prices
		(8 dollars for a regular haircut,
		no mention of beards).
		
		i was charged 19 dollars and i threw in the balance.
		i bet the beard, the mustache, and
		the hair hair were itemized.
		
		oh, and he also made an attempt to trim my nose
		hair (probably dollar fifty).
		or maybe it's what the market will bear --
		should i have dickered?  i am commercially mute
		except at the deli, when they misprice
		lorraine swiss cheese.  yum.
		
		"nineteen???".
		 
		i thought i was fleeced in cincinnati
		that one time, when i paid sixteen...
		
		i thought you had to change gender
		to pay 20 dollars for a haircut.
		
		my regular barber charges me five
		and i tip her -- or her sister -- one.


			Marek Lugowski
			23 January 1993
			Chicago, Illinois
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: moh2@quads.uchicago.edu (Kateri/Mary Anne)
Subject: Louise Gluck and She Wants It
Reply-To: moh2@midway.uchicago.edu
Organization: University of Chicago
Date: Tue, 26 Jan 1993 17:56:33 GMT

>	and the cry that always escapes,
>	the low, humiliating
>	premise of union--

(this, from Gluck's "Mock Orange", led to this....)

*****

She Wants It

(it's really no wonder they get confused when it's there in every
romance novel, every movie, every tv show)

Woman.
Resisting, saying 'no, no, no...'

Man.
Laughing, teasing, gently kissing touching stroking
tender breasts
quivering thighs
arching back

no

Woman moans
inarticulate

Do you really want me to stop? an implicit question in his touch
an implicit answer in her motion?

(and the betrayal of my body is the ready answer where a moment's or
an hour's pleasure can overcome the convictions of a lifetime, and
perhaps I'm not so unwilling after all)

Dammit.
When I say no
I.
Mean.
No.

*****

M.A. Mohanraj
January 26, 1993

-- 
We may affirm absolutely that nothing great in the world has ever been
accomplished without passion.

					 - George Hegel
From: jjwebb@cruzio.santa-cruz.ca.us
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: lost kayak / Marek (1990)
Summary: bukowski?
Date: Thu, 21 Jan 93 23:00:32 PST
Reply-To: jjwebb@cruzio.santa-cruz.ca.us



Bukowski! You were gonna tell us 'bout why you like Bukowski! Instead,
all we get is the tales of stinking kayaks ... boooooooooooooo!
-- 
>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<
  jjwebb@cruzio.santa-cruz.ca.us     :-)     "You mean .. there are lines?"
      copyright (c) 1993                                    -- Beau Blue
>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<>><><><<
From: trnguyen@honors.uoregon.edu (Tran Nguyen)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: 'Most Poets are Cradled....'
Date: Wed, 27 Jan 1993 04:18:55 GMT
Organization: University of Oregon Honors College
NNTP-Posting-Host: honors-lab7.uoregon.edu

	Percy Shelley once wrote:

	Most poets are cradled into poetry by wrong,
	The learn in sorrow what they teach in song.

When I first came upon that fragment, my reaction was a somewhat lukewarm 
agreement. Yet now that I have truly tread the road of reality, I am 
impassioned whenever those two lines come to mind. This being the my first 
at the posting deal, I wanted to choose a poem that explores the Truth 
of what Shelley is saying and, hopefully, a bit beyond. For I have come up 
with an answer of sort, I think. And to you poets out there (whatever that 
may be :)), please tell me what you think. Discard the allusions and 
orgainization if you have to....even if the two are forever relevant to 
the work itself. I will appreciate any comments, good or bad. 
 
	"Most Poets are Cradled....."

	If cradled wrongs coerce
	The Artist to songs fit for the Sages,
	If learned sorrows must come first
	For verses to be on these pages,
	I would not quench my noble thirst,
	If such is the Way of the poetic mages,
	With this overwhelming curse
	Of many in Time and Reality's dominion,
	Where Keatsian and Shelleyan
	Lines must find their birth.

	Though estatic of visions of the kind,
	My soul and heart, and so too my mind
	Must carry the burden til the day I yield,
	The day I hope to walk the Elysian Fields.
	Yet the price is only immortality for how
	Those vast plains seem nearer, nearer even now.
	
	For the sake of a couple of lines
	Of Beauty and Truth enlightened in the mind,
	I would not bartered had I know
	Beforehand the price of my treasured finds.

			-Tran Nguyen

P.S. Don't get me wrong, I also write free verse...The rhyme scheme I think 
is appropriate here.
From: NAT@drao.nrc.ca (Natalie Prowse)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: high speed addiction (revised) / Natalie
Date: 26 Jan 93 04:23:03 GMT
Organization: Dominion Radio Astrophysical Observatory
X-News-Reader: VMS NEWS 1.11



		high speed addiction
                --------------------------------------------------------------


		pale water-color blue sky.
		thin, washed out, cloudless, crisp.
		white-hot intense sun
		sets the air sparkling.
		crystals of ice
		dance, float, glitter 
		in peppermiscent effervescence.
		 
		the gentle swing of the chair
		fails to lull the anticipation.
		fear and adreneline fuse
		to form a powerful addiction.
		
		the scene is played out below:
		colorful flashes and splashes.
		appreciative "aaahhhs" resound
		for skill prominantly displayed.
		moans and derisive laughter
		greet a tangle of arms and legs 
		amidst a white explosion.
		
		drink in the panorama one last time.  
		no time to appreciate scenery
		when speed insanity strikes.
		
		burning thighs
		consume the icy wind.
		all is fire and ice and burning. 
		all melts into one
		and flows down
		controlled, but free
		in natural synchronization.
		arms are wings, held in reserve
		ready to embrace sky.
		
		speed is a drug. raw. ragged.
		barely on the edge. on the verge.
		wind screaming exhilaration.
		invigoration.
		-feel- the fear.
		let it wash over, envelop.
		don't let it overwhelm.
		don't tense up.  softly absorb.
		surge and flow.
		liquid on liquid.
		oil on water.
		pure velocity
		on a headlong headrush.
		
		glide and skim 
		like a hand lightly running 
		down the curves of a lover's body
		barely touching 
		softly rounded softness.
		yet, it's all so fast - so fast 
		that the world moves in slow motion.
		give the snow a breathless caress.
		lovingly carve a hint of a turn
		and spray up a skiff of powder,
		a shimmer in the air,
		like a wish remembered...
		
			-Natalie / Jan 17-25, 1992
Organization: Bar-Ilan University Computing Center, Israel
Date: Thu, 28 Jan 1993 10:56:05 IST
From: <X67107@BARILVM.BITNET>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: "my body is like a stray dog..." / Halina Poswiatowska / trans: Ma

 daft translation from English to Giberic:

                 "my body is like a stray louse...."

    My body is like a stingy louse
    When it steals the blood of a carcass, it must shun the sun
    People will say -- this is lyricism of love
    And it is reall a red red load of dread
    But it is really a red way of living with solitude
    Or is it realy a red self sacrifice...

    Cabage lumps of emotions -- it is even envious of them all
    it will bump around a prostitute dressed like a soldier, then
    it will hump a she-cat, in heat, under the fence, and then;
    it will snap 'good night' at birds braced against the walls.

    but losing its way it will await upon the early dawn
    stingy -- unnecessary to the self
         and knowing even less then understanding
                             and all the more astonished...

                        Someone or Rather... a Polish chap, 1966
                        translated by

                        Marek Lugowski

                        and then translated by

                        Zorostar de Chaotic

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H
                       Oren THE Laughing Magican
        LAUGHING DOES TICKLE THE SOUL, THERE IS NO BETTER REASON
=========================================================================
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ralph@wixer.cactus.org (Ralph Cherubini)
Subject: Poem--Ocean's endless errands
Organization: Real/Time Communications
Date: Fri, 22 Jan 1993 17:23:15 GMT


                               Ocean's endless errands

The waves on the shore
they are not about me
but I am about them
a story of the sea washed up on shore
beached ocean water-bottle sloshing onto the land
we carry the sea where she could otherwise not go
we are the destiny of salt water
turning sodium chloride into world traveler
let's not speak of purpose here--
it just happened that way that skin developed
and other organs necessary to perpetuate
bagged water
we slosh about from land to land
on the ocean's endless errands.


-- 
ralph@wixer.cactus.org
cactus.org!wixer!ralph
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jis@panix.com (Jack Szwergold)
Subject: I've Been Workin' On My Period (C&C welcome)
Organization: PANIX Public Access Unix, NYC
Date: Thu, 21 Jan 1993 03:59:17 GMT


-----------------------------------------------------------------
I'VE BEEN WAITIN' ON MY PERIOD
(to be hummed to the tune of _I've Been Workin' on the Railroad_)
co-authored by Jack Szwergold and Shirley Hanein
1-20-1993
-----------------------------------------------------------------

     I've been waitin' on my period!
     All the god damn week!

     I've been waitin' on my period!
     I'm so pissed, I can hardly speak!

     Won't it end al-ready?
     Won't it cease to exist?

     I am so very AN-GRY!
     I could punch you with my fist!

     Punch you with my fist!
     Punch you with my fist!
     PUNCH!
          YOU!
               WITH!
                    MY!
                         F-I-I-IST!

     Punch you with my fist!
     Punch you with my fist!
     PUNCH!
          YOU!
               WITH!
                    MY!
                         FIST!


--
Jack
jis@panix.com

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ralph@wixer.cactus.org (Ralph Cherubini)
Subject: Three poems
Organization: Real/Time Communications
Date: Tue, 26 Jan 1993 14:43:18 GMT


                               Hunger

I give each child what it needs
knows nothing but hunger
dull
non-specific
just the open mouth
which leads to an open heart
and complete lack
of distrust.



                                Thirst

I have nothing that she wants
knowingly
it is the unknown need fed by invisible streams.

Unknown even to me.


                                Desire

She thinks it is sex she wants
no
it is mere simple comfort
so that she may enjoy
the earth
moving softly beneath her.



-- 
ralph@wixer.cactus.org
cactus.org!wixer!ralph
From: oberc@augustana.ab.ca
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Get a life (C&C welcome)
Date: 21 Jan 93 13:15:58 MST
Organization: Augustana University College, Camrose, Alberta

In article <1993Jan6.090040.29186@ugle.unit.no>, gardabr@unix1 (Gard Eggesbo Abrahamsen) writes:> 
>          Get a life
> ===============================
>          burn a cross
>          fuck a baby
>          shoot a president
>          dance with the devil
>          puke on a nkotb album
>          shit in public
>          whatever you wish
>          just do it
>          get a life
>         =====================================================================
>                                     GEA


          just read Spin magazine, and find out
          everybody else is doing it.


	  C. Oberg
          camrose  alberta
          canada.
From: dah@cveng121.veheng.det (Dewane A. Hall)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: BEING IN LOVE
Date: 26 Jan 93 16:14:44 GMT
Reply-To: dah@cveng121.veheng.det
Organization: Sun Microsystems, Inc.

BEING IN LOVE DOESN'T HAVE TO MAKE SENSE

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

by DAHCASS 1/26/93

-----------------------
If you don't know you better ask somebody.
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Subject: dominick's chocolate milk:
Reply-To: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Organization: Iowa State University
Date: Fri, 29 Jan 1993 03:47:33 GMT


		dominick's chocolate milk:
		------------------------------------------------------
		
		behold the milk of jesus christ the lord
		our savior
		that was shed for our sins
		packaged homogenized
		milk of salvation
		that came from quadruple tits
		
		send us on our sojourn
		to a quadruple bypass
		
		with coke and pizza and beer
		
		behold the milk of savor
		the really yummy yummy milk
		our ilk in bangles and silk
		and ponytails
		will forever tell fairy tails
		from simple cheerleaders'     
		
		behold the milk of jesus christ the son
		jesus my man
		
		i dig your milk.
		

			Jesus Marek and Marie Chain Gang
			28 January 1992
			Wind-Chill Cities, USA
		

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: cherish@ritcsh.csh.rit.edu (Cherish Mitchell)
Subject: Cross-Legged Shadows
Originator: cherish@nick.csh.rit.edu
Organization: Computer Science House @ RIT
Date: Fri, 22 Jan 1993 07:55:42 GMT

                 Cross-legged shadows
    
    Cross-legged on the floor
    Of the near-empty room
    Sits one woman.
    Dark shadows fall around her,
    And all that can be heard
    Is the silence -
    Which is occasionally broken
    By the whisper of her breath.
    She is very still,
    Moving only to adjust
    Any limb which
    May have fallen asleep.
    Looking at her,
    One might get a sense of 
    Loneliness or despair,
    Or just a sense of spiritual unrest.
    
    This has not always been so.
    Only recently,
    After many trials and pains,
    Has her spirit been broken,
    Her will been erased,
    And her faith in mankind been lost.
    
    This one woman,
    This cross-legged woman,
    Sits in the near empty room 
    On the floor,
    Waiting for the time
    When the pain can no longer be felt,
    When her spirit will be set free,
    And her will will become its own.
    When the shadows will take over,
    And eternal sleep will release her.
    
                                         -Cherish Rene Mitchell
                                          13 January 1992
    

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jis@panix.com (Linus Van Pelt)
Subject: Jumping Around in the House of Pain (C&C is okay with me)
Organization: PANIX Public Access Unix, NYC
Date: Sat, 23 Jan 1993 01:42:20 GMT

------------------------------------------
Jumpin' Around in the House of Pain
                         by Jack Szwergold
------------------------------------------


Pack
     it
          up!
Pack
     it
          in!
Let
     it
          begin!

OHDAMNMETOHELL!

I'm gonna get my ass sued!


     Plagiarism!
From: v131p9t3@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu (Ninstar Cybermage: Black Phoenix Rising)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: +=[==--Lemmings--==]=+
Date: 22 Jan 93 01:58:00 GMT
Organization: University at Buffalo
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41

Lemmings

The world of peace is a facade
The world of pleasure pain
The water that gives you life today
Tomorrow's a bloody rain.

Wandering through our happy life
We see not what we should
We don't save others or ourselves
Even when we could.

Soon the pressures in our frail world
Will result in a dreadful tiff
I hope we are better than the Lemmings dear
I hope we see the cliff.


James Shank           	I		v131p9t3@ubvms.cc.buffalo.edu
AKA: Ninstar Cybermage  A	or	shank@acsu.buffalo.edu
XINEOHPAEGAMREBYCRATSNINMMYOWNMANANDIBELIEVEINMYOWNWAYOFDOINGMYLIFEANDMYSIGNYAH
"Anyone with a .sig more than four lines long is a self important fool!"-Marek
"OOPS!  8-)" -Ninstar, on line 5 of his .sig
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: marek@casbah.acns.nwu.edu (Marek Lugowski)
Subject: Re: lost kayak / Marek (1990)
Organization: Northwestern University, Evanston Illinois.
Date: Fri, 22 Jan 1993 21:33:46 GMT

In article <4964@cruzio.santa-cruz.ca.us>
jjwebb@cruzio.santa-cruz.ca.us writes:

>Bukowski! You were gonna tell us 'bout why you like Bukowski! Instead,
>all we get is the tales of stinking kayaks ... boooooooooooooo!

boooooooooooooooooookowski on you too.  I will.  I already felt guilty about
running late, for what it's worth.  I intend to show Bukowski's merit by
employing the Fair Use provision of the Copyright Act of 1973.

				-- Marek

P.s.  Bukowski has not written about steenkin' kayaks what I have read of him.
From: zola@hardy.u.washington.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Note Bene, PBFT.  (was Re: opinions..)
Date: 27 Jan 93 19:14:58 GMT
Article-I.D.: shelley.1k6mviINNlmu
Organization: University of Washington, Seattle
NNTP-Posting-Host: hardy.u.washington.edu

In article <26JAN93.05585497@pattie.wellesley.edu> hcorbett@pattie.wellesley.edu writes:
>I simply can NOT let TWO flames on Marek go by without making
>some comment. Anyone who is puerile enough to include all of

oh dear, two flames directed at marek.  sounds like a light day.

>makes a fool out of himself to boot. Marek was an established 
>contributor when I started looking in on r.a.p. three years ago
>(or was it four?), and I have already encouraged him NOT to shut
>up because his poetry is and has been simply fantastic. May I suggest

sounds like the "why is marek a heavyweight" discussion.  established?
there are plenty of people who have been on rap for years.  and vocal.
you are entitled to your opinion of mr lugowski's poetry.  it has been
noted.  the rest of us are also allowed our thoughts on it.  which have
also been duly noted.

excuse me if my enthusiasm wanes on this topic. pbft. 

-Rebecca

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
zola@u.washington.edu   rebecca@u.washington.edu  rlowell@nyx.cs.du.edu
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"English, it's not just a muffin - it's a major."
From: marek@casbah.acns.nwu.edu (Marek Lugowski)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: mirror, mirror
Date: 24 Jan 93 18:46:51 GMT
Article-I.D.: news.1993Jan24.184651.27447
Organization: Northwestern University, Evanston Illinois.

In article <21719@ucdavis.ucdavis.edu> ez012344@chip.ucdavis.edu writes:

>Ah, and here we have the age-old problem, Don. Marek isn't putting up and he
>isn't shutting up ...

I have no idea how long you have been on rec.arts.poems but I do have some
idea how long I have been posting here, which is putting up.  Putting up
with nonsense is another matter.  I admit to having a streaky record there...

>the latter of which is to be expected of a man of, but  
>not necessarily admired.

I'll attribute this malformed mystery of an attempt at a sentence as sloppy
editing.  What the hell are you saying?

>Someone, somewhere, perhaps in Lake Monroe or 
>Cincinnati, has encouraged Marek, and he has become encouraged.

The implication being that I don't write of my own conviction.  This is not
true.  As for encouragment, it comes fairly regularly and keeps the pace
with discouragment, which I take your posting to signify.

><sigh> At one time poetry ... oh, why bother? ... I can no longer continue
>the charade. Don, the apex of contemporary poetry lies not in the musty
>halls of academe, nor along a chilled Carmel beach, but on this very computer
>network. You have found poet's Valhalla ... 

I think you are an idiot.  But that's beside the point.  The last person on
this net to lay into the academia was Joe Green, which was very funny at
the time because he ended up wrapping himself in crossposts on obscure
facets of deconstructionism.  You could at least ask before accusing.

>
>Dan

				-- Marek
From: bu016@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Zita Marie Evensen)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: federico lorca ....
Date: 28 Jan 1993 04:33:39 GMT
Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, OH (USA)
Reply-To: bu016@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Zita Marie Evensen)
NNTP-Posting-Host: hela.ins.cwru.edu


Here is a poem .. or part of a poem by Federico Garcia Lorca 
which has enchanted me time and time again.
__________________________________________________________________________


"Hay dulzura infantil
en la manana quieta.
Los arboles extienden
sus brazos a la tierra.
Un vaho tembloroso
cubre las sementeras,
y las aranas tienden
sus caminos de seda
--- rayas al cristal limpio
de aire ---."

       ***

Enjoy!


--
From: trish_r@mind.ORG (Trish Rucker)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Writing, Contemporary Poetry ...
Date: Sun, 24 Jan 93 14:40:19 -0500
Organization: Fortress Development HQ

I would love to correspond with anyone who has similar writing/reading 
interests.
 
I have a BA and most of an MFA in Creative Writing (GSU).   I write 
poetry, short stories, and short-shorts ("sudden fiction").  My work has 
appeared in a number of publications, including THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY, 
THE NEW YORK QUARTERLY, THE SOUTHERN HUMANITIES REVIEW, and POETRY EAST.
 
My favorite poets include
Sharon Olds
Ai
Albert Goldbart
(oops, Goldbarth!)
Carolyn Forche
Tess Gallagher
Sylvia Plath
Anne Sexton
John Berryman
Randall Jarrell
Theodore Roethke
 
 
If your interests are similar, I would love to correspond with you!
 
If you'd like to write back via Internet, please write
me at the following address:
trish.rucker@ehbbs.gwinnett.com
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems