HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: kyrsten@eos.arc.nasa.gov (Kyrsten Swazey)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Good-bye
Date: 6 Oct 92 00:24:28 GMT
Organization: NASA Ames Research Center

I think that the sinking 
 is something inside the good-byes.
In the utterance released -
 a phantasm of longing, unrequitted
 love, an amore one holds no more.
I cannot see my beloved, i no longer
 remember what it is to be loved...

In the haze of forgetting, i come
 to believe it never was - never will be.
The creeping, reeking of hopes peaking
 on air when there was nothing there -
never will be,
     could never hold still,
            i want to be there still...

on the window sill, the alcove facing
 grimy city street-slickened days
of mazes of deadened-ends
 and of hearts silently rended -
immobile, infertile, a mouth unhinged, agape
 at apathetic recounts of rape
of interracial hate, of the hell with an unhinged gate

Is this good-bye?

Why do we try to roll the bitter, biting agony
 in sweet confectioner's sugar?
It dissolves in the mouth and still we,
 despite our efforts,
pucker our lips - an overload of the senses
 leaving us senseless...

And even now we smile, manic masochists,
 prepared to live it, all over again.

                                               _XTC_
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: boutell@cshl.org (Tom Boutell)
Subject: TB: Poems: Blue Light & Journeyman
Summary: relativity: too much is still < c
Organization: Cold Spring Harbor Labs
Date: Mon, 5 Oct 1992 18:50:22 GMT

Blue Light (10/2/92)
----------

In the hour between shores,
Riding the Port Jefferson ferry
On the force of eight ratty bills and small change,
I can safely watch the year's obligations

Retreat. And time stretches
With speed and distance, and a year looks
Less drastic.

Last weekend, stationary at the bar of the Dojo,
Waiting for her, a great deal of nothing happened,
Women's bodies shifted through the door
Trailing red light, reduced in frequency
And intensity, because I wasn't hungry,
Wasn't a fellow - traveler, wasn't drinking, wasn't
In their frame of reference.

Ahead, Bridgeport is coming, and thoughts
Of Bridgeport arrive faster,
Thoughts of the last train arrive faster,
Thoughts of home rush towards me
In blue light.

Almost as bright
As she looked, coming towards me finally,
In that grey evening,
In the hour between shores.


Journeyman (10/2/92)
----------

Travel invents
Its own sweet time,
Its own sweet stationary place,

Which can only be reached by moving.
I am tempted to forget
That it costs to travel,
Costs constantly and steadily,
Charges you overtime for your pleasures.

I don't hurry. The people I meet, traveling,
Hurry along, to be as full as possible,
As long as possible, before I am irretrievable,
Gone. They want to stay in the same place,
Either where they are
Or with me. But the people who really interest me

Are not in this place
I have accepted the costs of occupying. They are traveling
Themselves, in their own elegant motion,
And I gladly make plans
To cross ways as often
As our separate journeys allow.

-- 
Tom Boutell, boutell@cshl.org

Clausthaler is the best non - alcoholic beer in the known universe.
From: 2ftolonger@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: If I Could Art
Date: 5 Oct 92 19:45:11 CDT
Organization: University of Kansas Academic Computing Services

Sorry about the multiple postings, but I was having trouble. *shrug*


In article <1992Oct4.190856.28787@lehi3b15.CSEE.Lehigh.EDU>, wstrutin@lehi3b15.CSEE.Lehigh.EDU (Wendy Strutin) writes:
> IF I COULD ART

[wonderful poem deleted]

Wow!  What else can I say when a poem hits me--hits me directly.  This is the 
first time I've tried a spontaneous response, but I have to *try*. :)


The beauty that I see
All around me
Fills, swells, turns
Within and sparks a
Smile on my face.
I want to share that smile,
Share the filling, swelling, turning,
But how do you put that down on paper?
How does the smile sound?
What do I know of sharing,
If I cannot comprehend music, art, poetry.
Must this smile go unnoticed?

--AKA

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Angela Kathleen Ayers          |  "A mathematician who is not also
2ftolonger                     |   something of a poet, is not a complete
@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu (Internet) |   mathematician"
@UKANVAX  (BITNET)             |                   --Karl Weirstrauss
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: alvin@ucsu.Colorado.EDU (Kenneth Alvin)
Subject: Low Country
Organization: University of Colorado, Boulder
Date: Fri, 2 Oct 1992 16:13:41 GMT



          Low Country
          ------------------------


          Rain slick streets
          shimmer with halogen white,
          in the glare of neon
          wiped across the windshield,
          the road melts into blace ice.
          I do my best, guessing
          the shoulder and yellow
          lines from the tail
          lights out ahead.
          One at a time,
          we leave traffic behind.

          Finally, the rain dribbles
          slowly away, stars burn
          burn white velvet through
          a foggy blanket above us.
          The scent of wet pine
          and cypress drifts inside,
          patterns of moss 
          on a Sunday evening.
          
          We have no plans
          but driving through
          a strange country without maps,
          guessing the religion
          of the man at the 
          convenience store, wishing
          beyond hope to stumble across
          a place, unknown and perfect,
          where we could rest for eternity.


10-1-92
-- 
comments, criticism welcome...
-Ken
alvin@ucsu.colorado.edu
From: bunny@bsu-cs.bsu.edu (Marsh)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Poem - Inkblot
Date: 7 Oct 92 03:22:13 GMT
Organization: CS Dept, Ball St U, Muncie, Indiana


INKBLOT
or, Writing a postcard in Magdalen Deer Park

An inkblot in a sea of white
is indecision, fountain pens
and thoughtful silence hiding
in a world away from all of this.

Laurel wanders in its way
gives birth to thickets, grows
and houses squirrels in a moment
long forgotten when the footsteps pass.

Peeking, puzzled at the outcome,
poised for flight she spies another
"obviously foreign" as herself and
thinks back for a moment two or three.

Her thoughts elude her fingers
make her feel the fool, concentrate
and watch the ink spot drizzle make
her wish she'd brought a ballpoint.

-Tracy Flynn-Marsh
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: leoncioe@balsam.ppc.ubc.ca (leoncio estevez-reyes)
Subject:  My Pen Pal
Keywords:  poem
Organization: University of B.C. Pulp & Paper Centre
Date: Sun, 27 Sep 1992 02:52:16 GMT


		MY PEN PAL
		==========

			  (To someone I've never seen)


My right hand thinks
of your breasts.
"They must be soft",
it says.
"They must be full".

My lips speak 
of your neck.
"It must be long",
they muster.
"It must be warm".

Without a hint 
all hell breaks loose
and my arms,
and thighs,
and chest,
and eyes,
are yelling,
all at the same time.

They talk,
and scream,
and cry,
and call you,
but you're a dream.
A name. Some letters.
A ghost.

How come my body
yearns for your flesh, 
if the two of you 
haven't been introduced
yet?
From: bunny@bsu-cs.bsu.edu (Marsh)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Poem - Catherine's Curse
Date: 7 Oct 92 03:11:41 GMT
Organization: CS Dept, Ball St U, Muncie, Indiana


CATHERINE'S CURSE

He breezes me a thicker death,
-infernal ribbon speckled white
laid heavy, as a lethal chain -
and lacks a rosy, royal blush
as all before, a prince a-borning
blue and curdled in my arms.

An angel-breeder!

Wicked thoughts belabor,
weigh mere prayers in pearl,
ebon, gold (the yellow of my sun
-its majesty adorns the cobalt
skies across my native Spain
has faded from my thinning hair).

Obey your father and begone...
I love you, Mary.


-Tracy Flynn-Marsh
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: tolman%mindblow.cs.utah.edu@cs.utah.edu (Kenneth Tolman)
Subject: I am
Date: 26 Sep 92 20:02:12 MDT
Organization: University of Utah, CompSci Dept


Give me a summer and I'll return it full of sleepy lazy days
If you smile when you walk I'll carry laughter to their souls
And if you reach out again and again I promise that
At least once you will find joy

There are those who scream and are tormented and blame me
I make dreams for them and they are bitter and sad when they fail
But they can not see what I have given them, only what I could not
Forgive me
From: wstrutin@lehi3b15.CSEE.Lehigh.EDU (Wendy Strutin)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: latex lies (stretching the truth)
Keywords: 'freydom
Date: 4 Oct 92 19:02:26 GMT
Organization: Lehigh University, CSEE Dept, Bethlehem, PA


LATEX LIES (STRETCHING THE TRUTH)

dancing close enough to never touch
latex lies and distant lust
committed to to heartless, breakless us.

sterile sans the sickest risk
of fractured dreams and all that's missed
in coldness heartbreak feels like nothing less

than chills we built around ourselves
protecting from some icy walls
enforced in ageless lessons time has taught

    to children living all alone
    grown adults now aged, now know
    expectant love is worse than none at all.


				\/\/endy
-- 
 /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\
<--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X-->
 \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/
   Official Argyle Mail Trailer  --  WStrutin@lehi3b15.csee.lehigh.edu
From: wachtel@canon.co.uk (Tom Wachtel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Haiku about Haiku
Date: 29 Sep 92 10:10:41 GMT
Reply-To: wachtel@canon.co.uk
Organization: Canon Research Centre Europe Ltd

wiles@iscsvax.uni.edu writes:

> Haiku should end with
> smoke-puff hanging in the air
> like exploded mind

	should haiku should, would
	haiku would be haiku, and
	from hand to mouth to everpresent hand, and
-- 

Tom Wachtel (wachtel@canon.co.uk)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ralph@wixer.cactus.org (Ralph Cherubini)
Subject: Poem--Of all the things
Organization: Real/Time Communications
Date: Mon, 5 Oct 92 13:01:21 GMT


                        Of all the things 

Of all the things he plays
the sandbox is favored
that rectangular world
in which merest water
turns tiny granules to great unities of purpose
forts for coming armies
dark caves offering safety to projected fears
finally
a way back
to the sea of his birth
left only ever temporarily
though the moment be lifelong.

-- 
ralph@wixer.cactus.org
cactus.org!wixer!ralph
From: 2ftolonger@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: If I Could Art
Date: 5 Oct 92 19:43:01 CDT
Organization: University of Kansas Academic Computing Services

In article <1992Oct4.190856.28787@lehi3b15.CSEE.Lehigh.EDU>, wstrutin@lehi3b15.CSEE.Lehigh.EDU (Wendy Strutin) writes:
> IF I COULD ART
> 
> frustration for the artist's eye's
> seeing universal canvas
> standing at the easel judge
> but cannot make it happen
> 
> music hummed but once - forgotten
> minds eye art is never gotten 
> fame, acclaim is silent too
> unsung songs in artist's hues
> 
> and i who visions world as art
> eyes with all the colors
> curse my clumsy artless hands
> and stand in awe of others.
> 
> 
> 			\/\/endy
> -- 
>  /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\
> <--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X-->
>  \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/
>    Official Argyle Mail Trailer  --  WStrutin@lehi3b15.csee.lehigh.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: rbear@inferno.uoregon.edu (Richard Bear)
Subject: Initiation
Organization: University of Oregon Network Services
X-Newsreader: Tin 1.1 PL5
Date: Fri, 2 Oct 92 05:03:51 GMT


Not only the eye is tricked, but the heart also,
and the hand, for art is to be the mirror held up 
to Mind, that world we live and move within. 
To see is to believe; therefore we bring 
our children to the ring of fire, that they may see. 
Fathers rise from their places, painted and masked, 
and make the story with their hands and feet
as their fathers did for them so long ago,
and their fathers' fathers, whose bones make 
the hills stand round in holy stillness. With drum 
and chant the story is made; things seen then known 
because the fathers move before the deep-drinking 
eyes of sons: spending proud sweat on the air, 
they dance that the sons of their bodies may live. 

rbear
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ralph@wixer.cactus.org (Ralph Cherubini)
Subject: Poem--Song of the reluctant parent
Organization: Real/Time Communications
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 92 14:21:34 GMT


                           Song of the reluctant parent

Don't bother me
now
I am busy with self-importance
come back later
when I am old and alone
then I will be interested
intent upon you
in my need.


Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: watson@hg.uleth.ca (The terror that flaps in the night)
Subject: Re: Did Lazarus have a wife?
Reply-To: watson@hg.uleth.ca
Organization: University of Lethbridge
Date: Fri, 2 Oct 1992 20:15:36 GMT

In article <1992Oct01.160606.27375@ux1.cts.eiu.edu>, csmcm@ux1.cts.eiu.edu (Mary C. McDaniel) writes:
>I'm working on a poem-- right now-- and I need to know if Lazarus
>had a wife (prior to his resurrection, thank you).  Does anyone out 
>there recall?
>
>Thanks in advance for your help,
>
>Mary
>
>

Are you talking about Lazarus Long?  :)

Holy Heinlein, Batman!
Carol
From: baldwin@cogsci.ucsd.EDU (Ken Baldwin)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Her Walk
Date: 1 Oct 92 04:11:30 GMT
Organization: University of California, San Diego


Her Walk
___________________________________

When she walks, she walks with care, 
not step by step, 
but all together, like the 
smooth motion of the leaves
when a dry breeze lifts them
at once, or like birds who
turn faster than is possible.

Forever in my mind
there is an echo of her motion
that rings more and more
softly, but never goes away,
and never loses its unity.
Even when she stops 
there is something that continues.

Even in the fading evening
it is her walk that moves
the last light across the stones,
that pushes the breath into
my lungs and sucks it back 
out again, that sings me to sleep.
Everything is her walk.
__________________________________


by Kenneth Baldwin [30 SEP 92]
From: wachtel@canon.co.uk (Tom Wachtel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: curl your
Date: 1 Oct 92 17:12:37 GMT
Reply-To: wachtel@canon.co.uk
Organization: Canon Research Centre Europe Ltd

=

	curl your hand
	there's a space...see?
	a warm piece of air
	no-one can touch it but you
	no-one else knows it's there


-- 

Tom Wachtel (wachtel@canon.co.uk)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: colossal@cbnewsg.cb.att.com (colossal Microscope)
Subject: autumn haiku
Keywords: autumn haiku
Organization: AT&T
Date: Tue, 29 Sep 1992 17:36:44 GMT



	autumn haiku
	------------

	autumn's first day; fresh
	scent of change in the cool air
	-- within, new self birth



                        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                                 |||
From: moonbeam@iastate.edu (Timothy J Cockerham)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Yes, A Sexual Poem
Date: 30 Sep 92 01:34:04 GMT
Organization: Iowa State University, Ames IA

I have no excuse for this...Like I know anything about the subject...
-----

	I wish I could hold you, as we gently make love. Our arms, hands, and
fingers entwined. My lips, lightly brushing over your neck, and quietly 
whispering promises into your ear. 
	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.

-----

Take it easy on me, okay?
	-Tim-
	"Pumpkin Bars are good. Here, have one." -Me.
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: my skin lives
From: sturner@vax1.umkc.edu (if i was made of brillo...id be scratchy...)
Date: Tue, 29 Sep 1992 04:07:47 GMT
Reply-To: sturner@vax1.umkc.edu (if i was made of brillo...id be scratchy...)
Organization: University of Missouri - Kansas City

my skin 
lives on my
body with
no complaints
except for
right before
I sleep,
my skin stretches
out in silly
shades of sleep
and giggles.

sharon
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: everyone has to wait
From: sturner@vax1.umkc.edu (bring that ear a little closer.)
Date: Sat, 26 Sep 1992 02:08:39 GMT
Reply-To: sturner@vax1.umkc.edu (bring that ear a little closer.)
Organization: University of Missouri - Kansas City

From:	VAX1::STURNER      "my sister gradiated. now she's a woman."  8-JUL-1992 22:25:31.83
To:	STURNER
CC:	
Subj:	a new poem

There is a man
who crosses the street
he does so in his own time
because he has to.
traffic has to stop,
people have to watch
for this man who is a human mutation.
his walker is extra long
so he can grasp it carefully.
his leg in a brace
his arm twisted beyond recognition.
the metro bus edges forward
hurrying to make it's schedule.
but everyone has to wait,
everyone has to wait.
From: wachtel@canon.co.uk (Tom Wachtel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: shadows fall and break across
Date: 30 Sep 92 15:19:30 GMT
Reply-To: wachtel@canon.co.uk
Organization: Canon Research Centre Europe Ltd

=

	shadows fall and break across this bleak breathing being
	moving being still
	along your measured back
	through spaces traced in touch-tipped tapering
	stuttering handglide breath
	swept like mice before the stillborn wind
	this supine spine, entwined with mine, resigned
	curves back, again, and curves right back again
	reclined, splendidly splined


-- 

Tom Wachtel (wachtel@canon.co.uk)
From: dz22+@andrew.cmu.edu (Daniel L. Zabell)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Late summer rain
Date: 6 Oct 92 00:31:34 GMT
Organization: Freshman, H&SS general, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA




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

                                                        



                                    


                                    dan zabell
From: michaeln@cs.uq.oz.au (Bunweasel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: One Contented Gentleman
Date: 26 Sep 92 08:45:04 GMT
Reply-To: michaeln@cs.uq.oz.au
Organization: Department of Computer Science, The University of Queensland


	One Contented Gentleman
	-----------------------
	crisp, clean sheets
	a perfect rose
	two slender candles
	cool, mellow chardonnay
	a starchy table cloth
	a delicate arrangement
	sashimi on bone china
	a window full of stars
	a smile, a celebration
	crisp, clean sheets
	pillow smooth
	against a shaven cheek
	a smile, a celebration
	for tonight i sleep alone.


-/\/\/\/-
From: sharon@netlabs.com (Sharon Hopkins)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: P.M. Poetry 2
Date: 2 Oct 92 16:48:01 GMT
Article-I.D.: netlabs.1992Oct2.164801.6437
Organization: NetLabs, Inc.
Originator: sharon@doctor.netlabs.com

I can't deny my jealous streak:
It interferes with what I seek,
(The good I'd give, the love I'd speak)
And turns my counsel to a shriek
Of thwarted will -- emotions leak
So easily past walls of will!
(I certainly have had my fill.)
My jealous streak I *do* deny!
At least today --
    at least, I'll try...

Sharon Hopkins
October 1, 1992
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: moonbeam@iastate.edu (Timothy J Cockerham)
Subject: Re: Where and how to publish?
Organization: Iowa State University, Ames IA
Date: Mon, 5 Oct 1992 01:24:37 GMT

He asked (relatively) simple question, and got a stunningly bizarre answer.
However, it was fun to read...

Try...
	The 1992 Poet's Market
		'Where & how to publish your poetry'

It tells you where to try to send all kinds of poetry. How much they offer,
how they respond, what they are looking for, and where they are... along 
with other junk about them.
	$19.95 in the U.S. $26.95 in Canada. Look in Walden Books, B. Dalton,
or your very own local book store...
	It gives an example of a cover letter, tells you about the business,
answers commonly asked questions, and lots, lots more...
	So...What are you waiting for? 

What an advertisment! Hope it helps.
	-Tim-
From: shamik@cs.umd.edu (Shamik Sharma)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Inclinations
Date: 4 Oct 92 19:20:15 GMT
Organization: U of Maryland, Dept. of Computer Science, Coll. Pk., MD 20742


        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
            Inclinations
        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Smile by smile,
something is said unspoken.
Glances meet and scurry away,
and then reunite
with deliberated solemness.
Words, stiff and formal,
say as much as they don't.
The logical mind battling with the heart,
overcompensates  for its confused counterpart.

Alone, they litigate in the court of dreams,
Analytical arguments of the prosecuting brain,
collide against the defenceless heart in vain.
and fizzle away into another adjournement,
another night in wonderland.

Every chance meeting, every wave of the hand,
every word is a premeditated signal, 
demanding decoding and presented
as evidence in court for dissection.

Every passing hello is the heart's witness,
every passing day the mind's evidence.
Every night the jury meets, 
every night the battle fought.

The dreams go by, the smiles become smiles
and glances no longer meet,
and the unspoken words remain unsaid.
The mind gloating at its victory,
yet wonders if it won or lost....

-shamik
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: gschlesi@scott.skidmore.edu (gabriel schlesinger)
Subject: Insomnia
Organization: Skidmore College, Saratoga Springs NY
Date: Thu, 1 Oct 1992 02:56:18 GMT


Insomnia


The red numbers glow,
one forty-two.
The eyes twitch,
brain wanders,
STOP!
Relax,
eyes close,
relax, 
what's that noise?
What if...
open again,
still one forty-two.
Shadows move,
finger taps,
still one forty-two,
never changes.
Ever think about...
that's sick,
stop it.
One forty-three at last.

			-gabe 1990
From: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Criticism
Date: 2 Oct 92 21:03:16 GMT
Reply-To: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Organization: Iowa State University

In article <8emsTBy00XQU8WQkQx@andrew.cmu.edu>, jb6o+@andrew.cmu.edu (Jason
Andrew Barshay) writes:
>                        [...deleted...] 
> If you consider yourself a poet or if you want to be a poet or if you
> are just interested in poetry, I refer you to a collection of Rilke's
> correspondences, "Letters to a Young Poet."  This is a great
> introduction to a man who was truly an exceptional poet.
> 
> Jason

I'd also recommend Rilke's *poetry*.   I have a collection translated by
Robert Bly that is quite good.

Marie Coffin
From: jtrue@acpub.duke.edu (john)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: outside joke / jrue
Date: 4 Oct 92 15:58:10 GMT

Outside,
I sipped the air
and the taste was different 
this year.  For the first
time I reaized
that autumn means rotting.

Yet it is long before Halloween
(which some believe
is Every Day)
and just a week past equinox,
and only the
sick trees have given
up so soon.

My smile is one 
of knowing that shortly,
after one intense fire,
the apparel Im adorned in
will no longer be aposematic.
The landscape will
once again be transformed
as I'll let the
pigments emanate from me
and without ever moving
I'll be home again.

Behind these spectacles
my eyes are shaped
like glee
to see the coming
downfall of which
September was harbinger.
A season whose
end always seems only rumored, 
one of stiff mornings and endless nights,
a painter's latest mural
ready for the unveiling.


-jtrue1992

c/c/f welcome
"See the state she's in." - Talk Talk
jtrue@acpub.duke.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems