HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: jondarr@macadam.mqcs.mq.oz.au (jondarr c g h 2 gibb)
Subject: Grey on Grey on Blue
Organization: Macquarie University, School of Mathematics, Physics, Computing and Electronics
Date: Fri, 28 Aug 1992 00:09:33 GMT

Was it this time last year when we were doing a cloud theme ?


        Grey on Grey on Blue

It's blue to the horizon's edge,
A pale grey-blue of clouds with white
And silver linings, just a wedge
Of clearer sky and sunny light

Now passing through - it slowly drifts
Across the view, the light picks out
Forgotten features as it shifts
Its halo and the edge of cloud.

Some swirling grey on grey on blue
Now bulging with light rainfall makes
Its was along the flow, my view
Is darkened by the path it takes;

This sea of many shades of grey
Flows on, its colours fill my day.

			28th August, 1992



                    
              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
From: root@bing.UUCP (Administrator)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: winter growth / Marie Coffin
Date: 1 Sep 92 03:42:02 GMT
Organization: Bing's Rubber Chicken Factory -- "Our clucks are boneless."

mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin) writes:
> 
> 	winter growth
> 	------------------------------------------------
> 
> 	she is nine years old,
> 	eyes of no particular color,
> 	a seriously unfinished face.
> 	no one has ever cut her hair.
> 	when she stands up,
> 	it tickles her shoulderblades.
> 
> 	she curves into bed at night
> 	under the smooth sheet
> 	and smiles.
> 	she has discovered a secret,
> 	sending out shoots.
> 
> 	when she lays her hand flat
> 	against her chest
> 	she can feel the gentle swelling underneath.
> 	she cups softness in each palm.
> 	maybe the warmth will make them grow faster.
> 	she goes to sleep thinking about babies.
> 
> 
> Marie Coffin
> August 28, 1992

college chum

looking at him
i recall all the wild things
we did as college chums.

now he has a pot belly
and a little girl
who calls him daddy.

she comes to him
washed and ready for bed
and as he carries her up the stairs
he walks on eggshells
without making a single sound.

this from a guy
that used to drink beer
through straws stuck up his nose.

8/31/92
bhb

Well, this wasn't exactly on the same subject, was it?  Oh well...
Great poem, Marie!

--
Bing H Bang                                  +---------------------------+
Senior Systems Analyst                       | This is my home computer. |
National Data Corporation, Atlanta, GA       | I do not speak for NDC.   |
uucp: gatech!warlord!bing!root               +---------------------------+
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: terri@cwis.unomaha.edu (Teresa L. Jelinek)
Subject: The Reverie
Organization: University of Nebraska at Omaha
Date: Mon, 31 Aug 1992 19:28:13 GMT


		The Reverie

In the vast meadow I lie,
Staring up into the sky,
The stars twinkle to and fro,
Having no real place to go,
The moon sits all by itself,
Like a doll put upon a shelf,
Giving off the most luminous light,
There couldn't be a more beautiful sight,
How I'd love to be amongst the moon
And the stars,
With the possibility of traveling all 
The way to Mars,
The stars and moon produce so much light,
That I wouldn't know if it were day or night,
I'd have so much area to roam,
What would be the use of returning home?
I'd be like a bird in flight,
And I wouldn't stop with all my might,
I would go till I couldn't go no more,
Up high into the clouds I'd soar,
Suddenly I feel a warm sensation,
A true revelation,
I open my eyes,
Facing blue skies,
The stars and moon have went away,
Only to reveal the following day...
From: denelsbe@washington.cs.unc.edu (Kevbo)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: The Grey Man
Date: 23 Aug 92 16:02:16 GMT
Organization: The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

In article <203@uiunix.ui.org> donz@ui.org (Don Zirilli) writes:
)Please excuse the delay of my account of Josef O'Toole, but I keep
)forgetting to bring my journal to work with me, and now I've been
)distracted by another controversy.  As you all must know, Kevin
)Denelsbeck's poem "The Gray Man" is actually about me.  When I told him
)that I preferred the alternate spelling he proceeded to weep, etc., saying
)that it was beyond his powers to write of such a color and then, in a huff,
)dared me to do so!

First of all, it was a minute-and-a-huff.  Second of all, I had never written a
poem called "The Gray Man"; must I spend my whole life correcting O'Tooles?  I
assume that Posthumous meant my poem "Always First In Line", which talks about
a Gray Man, though I was not consciously writing about Posthumous.  (Of course,
I was asleep when I wrote it, so who knows?)  Anyhoo, just to make life easier
for the hapless Amortal One, I *have* now written a poem called "The Gray Man":


		The Gray Man

	Never sell your shadow; rent it
	Out on weekends, maybe, or take
	A picture of it for wallets.
	Cherish it, though it doesn't shine.
	Remember to feed it each day
	(Obviously, before nightfall).
	Spend time playing with it, and if
	Toys are what it wants, then get them.
	If clouds or moons should gather near,
	Comfort it (before it dissolves).
	Hold candlelight vigils for it
	Each winter night; don't forget to
	Rouse it on Groundhog Day.  And for-
	Ever woo Wendy, just in case...

---------
Kev @ UNC
8/23/92

)and Posthumous O'Toole can rarely resist a dare (if ever):
)
)
)
)The Grey Man
)
)
)He is a shadow cast upon a cloud,
)gravel at dusk, winter discolored,
)the soft crunch of a rodent in a garbage can,
)and his own cloak, faded from attempts
)at covering dark suspicions
)and cloying insecurities.
)
)He has colored himself with buckets
)of water and a drop of navy blue paint,
)perhaps a wee sliver of green,
)perhaps the tear that her face inspired.
)O the colors in that tear,
)now diluted!
)
)Excuse me, I am mistaken.
)I merely see a puddle of oil 
)with a rainbow in the corner,
)with my seeking face reflected,
)with perfectly good opera tickets
)getting soggy, sinking.


As always, Posthumous, a beautiful ending.


)Posthumous O'Toole
)8-20-92
)-- 
)nobody/not even the rain/              	/	   /      /  /    
) /   /   /     /   /   / /     /       /    /    // /    /  /         /    
)/     / / /   /   /     /   / /    / /   / / /  /  /   /      /      /
)   / /   /   /	/	 / /      //    /   / /     / /      / / / 


-- 
|| +------------------+  You Yankees are so silly 
||-| Kev @ UNC        |  About matters of the heart;
||-| Master Poetaster |  Don't you know that women are the only works of art?
|| +------------------+        -- Don Henley, "Drivin' With Your Eyes Closed"
From: petersm@jacobs.CS.ORST.EDU (Marguerite Petersen)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Rejection
Date: 26 Aug 92 22:50:09 GMT
Organization: Computer Science Outreach Services - Oregon State University


I'm not in a very good mood today (I just got fired from my job).  I can't 
even say it was a personality *conflict* as the individual who got me
fired didn't want me there from Day one and I tried my best to win her over.
After 3 months she finally won and my boss told me she would have to let me
go for the sake of the office.  I never made any complaints but the other
woman did.  I might as well have told this *person* off long ago.  Oh well,
things are always blackest before the dawn, right?  Yeah, right!

REJECTION


So many times rejected
in the past
I thought that I would somehow be 
immune
Protected 
And would never feel the
pain
And thusly girded
Made attempt
again
Only to discover
It still hurts.

August 26, 1992
Marg
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: an26@sol.acs.unt.edu (Dave Roberts)
Subject: Nessy
Organization: University of North Texas
Date: Fri, 28 Aug 1992 19:09:45 GMT

Nessy
		by Dave Roberts

Here lies this ancient terror
a reptile doing happy reptile things
a lost little monster in a world
of evil upstarts full of new rage
loaded into souls of madness

What a wonderful success it is
this evolution

--
Comments, criticism, flames welcome.
-- 
+----------------------------------------------------------------------+
| Dave Roberts         | Disclaimer:  I've already wiped the keyboard  |
| an26@sol.acs.unt.edu | down, and no one saw me type this, so don't   |
+----------------------+ even try to implicate me.                     | 
| Entropy Happesn      +-----------------------------------------------+
+----------------------+ Hey, cool!  My fingers are growing!           |
| cogito, ergo doom    | No, wait... it's just my fingernails.  Again. |
+----------------------+-----------------------------------------------+
Newsgroups: fido.ger.wissen,rec.arts.poems,rec.music.makers,rec.arts.fine,alt.cyberpunk
From: jan@uropax.contrib.de (Jan Dahlgruen (pvb))
Subject: Interdisciplinary Experiment
Organization: Contributed Software GbR
Date: Thu, 3 Sep 1992 14:33:07 GMT


Interdisciplinary Laboratory - An Experiment for Piazzetta Virtuale


We are looking for scientists, who would like to give some short information
about the latest research, which they are involved in at the moment.

Furthermore we would like to get in contact with artists, who would like to
respond to those thoughts of the scientists. In a sketch they should show, how
they connect those examples of scientific work to their recent work or how
they develop new ideas out of that.

In the next step, it is up to the musicians to choose or to create events of
sound, own or other compositions of music. They should be chosen / composed in
direct relationship to the reports of the scientists and the sketches of the
artists.

In the last step we are looking for writers / poets, who will describe the
scientific contents in their own words or transform them to another poetic
level. While doing that, they should be directly influenced by the music and
the art having been created in relation to the scientific reports.

At the end of the project there will be the final presentation of scientific
contents in a new spontaneous audio-visual way.


The aim of the experiment is to combine the thoughts of scientists and artists.
People working in different disciplines should come together and be more
interested in each other. They could get new impulses for their own work by
looking how other disciplines respond to their work.
In addition to that  this experiment could demonstrate to the public some
aspects of recent scientific work as well as the different ways of working of
artists.
Finally, interactive discussions with the public about research and art would
be welcome.
From: Brennan.J.Murphy.53@nd.edu (Brennan J. Murphy)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: 20 Century Poetry
Date: 25 Aug 92 17:42:53 GMT
Followup-To: rec.arts.poems
Organization: University of Notre Dame

I am a Junior English major at the University of Notre Dame.  In my 20th
cent. poetry class we are required to do an 8-10 page research paper
including footnotes and bibliography.  
Can anyone suggest a topic including references?
As of now, here are the texts we will be reading this semester:
			Rilke, Selected Poetry of R. M. Rilke
			Celan, Poems of Paul Celan
			khlebnikov, The king of Time
			W.C. Williams, Selected poems
			Stevens, The Palm at the End of the Mind
			Baranczak, Spoiling Cannibals' Fun:Polish Poetry...
			Bialoszewski, The Revolution of Things.

There are others but this is the "meat" of our class.
Also, are there better places to post this article?  If so, please post it
there for me or email me.
Thanks for your help,
Brennan
From: daq@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom)
Date: Tue, 25 Aug 1992 19:23:13 GMT
Subject: Re: The Grey Man
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems

In rec.arts.poems, donz@ui.org (Don Zirilli) writes:

> 
> The Grey Man
> 
[poem deleted}


Not bad not bad not bad.
Bad not bad not bad not.

doug
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: terri@cwis.unomaha.edu (Teresa L. Jelinek)
Subject: A Tribute to My Father, The Man I no Longer Know
Organization: University of Nebraska at Omaha
Date: Mon, 31 Aug 1992 03:16:55 GMT


	A Tribute to My Father, The Man I no Longer Know

As I solemnly gaze down at the tombstone 
that lies at my feet,
I find a name of a man who certainly didn't 
have life beat,
Under six feet of soil,
A feeling in me arises that begins to boil,
It is one of pain,
And here I remain,
I wonder why it couldn't have been me instead of him,
Suddenly my vision grows very dim,
"I miss you, Dad," I utter with a cry,
All I can do is wonder why,
A word that is so foreign to me had just
escaped my lips,
And now my stomach proceeds to do flips,
I don't understand how I can miss someone I no
longer know,
But it's a feeling that has continued to grow,
Now I work toward something I long to gain,
Even as the pain seems to remain,
My life I have found reason to live,
And credit to this man I feel I must give,
I no longer ask why,
But raise my hands to the sky,
And say "Dad, everything I do,
I do it all for you!"
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ross@cc.gatech.edu (Rosario DSouza, J)
Subject: One Special Moment -- A Poem
Organization: College of Computing, Georgia Tech
Date: Sun, 30 Aug 1992 00:32:49 GMT




		One Special Moment


	One moment has a special place,
	Within the heart of me;
	It occurred when a birdie chased,
	An unsuspecting bee!

	The trees stood tall with solemn grace,
	And squirrels sped on grass;
	The day was like a virgin chaste -
	And you, my pretty lass.

	Your hand in mine, and mine in yours,
	Two lovers passing by;
	And then it came, as moon arose,
	In fading blue of sky.



	The passing of these many years,
	We term as wedded bliss;
	But Oh, my heart still remembers,
	Our first enchanting kiss!


..Ross D'Souza.

(C) Copyright, Rosario D'Souza, August 1992.
All rights reserved.
From: lugowski@ils.nwu.edu (Marek Lugowski)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: The Dream of an Old Tortoise / Wislawa Szymborska / trans:Marek+Joanna
Date: 30 Aug 92 03:51:28 GMT
Organization: The Institute for the Learning Sciences


	The Dream of an Old Tortoise
	(translation of Sen starego zolwia)
	-------------------------------------------------------------

	The tortoise dreamed of a leaf of lettuce
	and near the leaf -- the Emperor himself suddenly
	appeared alive, just so -- like one hundred-something years ago.
	The tortoise does not even realize what a big deal this is.
		 
	The Emperor, in truth, did not appear in his entirety,
	but with the sun reflecting in his black shoes with small buckles,
	and above them, his two calves, fairly fit, in white stockings.
		 
	The tortoise does not even realize how earthshaking this is.
		 
	Those two legs -- a roadstop on the way from Austerlitz to Jena,
	and above them, a fog, from which a rattle of laughter scatters.
	Now, you may doubt the authenticity of this scene
	and of the imperial nature of the small buckle-fit shoes.
		 
	It is difficult to establish an identity from fragments:
	the right foot or the left foot.
	The tortoise does not remember that much from its childhood.
	The tortoise does not even realize whom it just dreamed up.
		 
	Emperor or no.  Does this fact in any way cast aspersions on
	the phenomenon of tortoise dreaming?  Somebody, identity unknown,
	has managed to slip unnoticed from the confines of nonexistence,
	slinking through the world!  All of him: from his very heels
	to his very knees.

	 
		Wislawa Szymborska
		Poland
		 
			translated from Polish
			by Marek Lugowski / Joanna Trzeciak
			Kentucky, Tennesee, 1989
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Another poem by Jason Livingston
From: klaw@ecst.csuchico.edu (Almighty Nodens the Master of the Elder Sign)
Date: Thu, 27 Aug 1992 22:24:16 GMT
Organization: California State University, Chico

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
///		I keep killing myself but I never die.			    ///
///		I wake, I sleep, I love, and I cry.			    ///
///		Life is damnation all in itself.			    ///
///		No higher truth could ever explain,			    ///
///		Light, darkness, passion, pain.				    //
///		Brutal moments of dark reflection			    /
///		Here lay my soul for all who'd see.			   /
///									  /
///		Jason Lee Livingston is				        // 
///  		klaw@ecst.csuchico.edu (Nodens)			      ///
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
								    /
From: donz@ui.org (Posthumous O'Toole)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Edible Fungus
Date: 1 Sep 92 17:22:33 GMT
Organization: UNIX International, Parsippany, NJ

Edible Fungus


"Between two mountains stood a mushroom"
begins the tale that ends in eruption.

Let's play with marbles in the white sand
until our thumbnails are raw.  Such aspirations
when we won't even scrape our knees!

Clouds around a struggling bird
offer neither comfort nor a threat
and the bird sleeps, which for a bird is death.

Two mountains hazy with snow 
cause shadows with their slopes
in some kind of past-caring winter.

Place my second finger between your lips.
Cross your eyes, silly clown, pretend innocence
as if there is nothing you eclipse.


The Grey Man
9-1-92
-- 
nobody/not even the rain/              	/	   /      /  /    
 /   /   /     /   /   / /     /       /    /    // /    /  /         /    
/     / / /   /   /     /   / /    / /   / / /  /  /   /      /      /
   / /   /   /	/	 / /      //    /   / /     / /      / / /
From: barclay@RAIL9000.gatech.edu (Barclay Blanchard)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: How to Get Tasha's Attention
Date: 30 Aug 92 21:51:18 GMT
Organization: Georgia Tech Research Institute

How to Get Tasha's Attention

Take a feather in hand,
 peacock preferred.
Gently waft it from
 high in the air
to just beyond
 her grasp.
Tease her and taunt her...
 move it hither and yon...
 and
 then
 stop.

-- 
Barclay Elizabeth Blanchard    barclay@rail9000@gatech.edu
"I've been laughed at by some of the funniest people."
--Lissie, Alice Walker's _The Temple of My Familiar_
From: ccsdgdc@gdr.bath.ac.uk (Douglas Clark)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Cat Poems Book
Date: 4 Sep 92 12:41:17 GMT
Organization: Bath University Computing Services, UK

This morning I have created a book of all the 26 Cat Poems in
five Latex files. Anyone wanting a copy let me know. The
original set of Cat Poems went out on USENET in 1987/8.
20 of the poems are in my book 'Horsemen' published in 1988.

There are a couple of additional Latex files required. I am
sorting these out at present.
-- 
Douglas Clark                                  Voice : +44 225 826039
Regional Services,                       JANET : D.G.D.Clark@uk.ac.bath
Bath University Computing Services, UUCP : ...uunet!mcsun!uknet!gdr!D.G.D.Clark
Bath, Avon, England BA2 7AY    ARPA : D.G.D.Clark%bath.ac.uk@nsfnet-relay.ac.uk
From: hornpete@uctvax.uct.ac.za (Peter Horn)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: The last day of the war (Poem)
Date: 2 Sep 92 09:43:33 +0200
Organization: University of Cape Town

THE LAST DAY OF THE WAR
-----------------------

the sun was too bored to bother: at noon
the blue sky
lavished on us
machine gun fire and phosphor bombs

later inspection
showed
the passage from childhood
to the cellar
riddled with bullet holes

looking up from the overcrowded ruins
i saw the sky said
nothing
in deadly writing

after twenty-three years
the sun the heart
all this beautiful
good for nothing
still
throws a shadow

who will teach me to forget: chestnut trees
skeletons with brilliant flowers
etched
into a
turbulent current of truth and flame

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: beh@geech.gnu.ai.mit.edu (Bruce Howells)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: "none"
Date: 29 Aug 92 14:24:42 GMT
Distribution: rec
Organization: Internet access via the Free Software Foundation


This week
I didn't know who I was.
My name has recently changed, you see
from me to me.
I was me before the me I am now
but the me I am now is 
someone else
made of two, not one.

I didn't know who I was,
this week.

Each day seemed to pass by me
in some uncomplicated way;
the tall, eternal trees
grew in their hazy rainforest-like
mist,
something the previous me
was unaccustomed to
and I gazed down on a familiar
scene which was not, and 
cannot ever be my own.

I am in Boston now.

The days of pine trees
blowing in the cooling winds of
the Straits
are long past
and I gave up my heritage
to see my future...

but I do not sing.

Tell me, people
why do I not sing?

--Nancy (Leinonen) Howells
(beh@gnu.ai.mit.edu -- at least temporarily)
From: h309@ellis.uchicago.edu (Unknown Author)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: famous quotes
Date: 26 Aug 92 13:58:51 GMT
Reply-To: h309@midway.uchicago.edu
Organization: Mindcrime

In article <14193@goanna.cs.rmit.oz.au> s913391@yallara.cs.rmit.OZ.AU (Walrus) writes:
>
>k ok so this is the wrong newsgroup... but i was wondering whether anyone knows whether there is an ftp site or other place with famous quotes in it??
>
>mail me please!!
>
>Walrus
>:=
>  

 Some Sun systems have a "game" which prints out random quotes whenever you
invoke it - if you have a Sun, try /usr/games/fortune

Hope this helps somewhat!
From: bunny@bsu-cs.bsu.edu (Marsh)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Poem - Greek in Black
Keywords: Comments? Criticisms?
Date: 27 Aug 92 03:13:51 GMT
Organization: CS Dept, Ball St U, Muncie, Indiana


To Spiridon Kouproudoukopoulos, wherever you are...


GREEK IN BLACK

Greek in black, a balding cloak
and sable mane all curling,
like a myth around the earth,
shied neatly from the cooling,
drenching rain...smooth head,
encumbered brow with
gravity and years;
and sweetly turning lips caress
a smile, pause, and requisition
hidden rays beneath the sun and
sheltered in the moon...


-Tracy D. Flynn-Marsh
From: wcmartin@eos.ncsu.edu (WILLIAM CRAIG MARTIN)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: 2Untitled
Date: 4 Sep 92 19:38:50 GMT
Reply-To: wcmartin@eos.ncsu.edu (WILLIAM CRAIG MARTIN)
Organization: North Carolina State University, Project Eos
Originator: wcmartin@c00551-1403br.eos.ncsu.edu


Once I was a river that had lost its course,
Pouring all of myself into the sands of the desert,
And only the blowing of the wind counted my years,
Slowly choking me
	killing me,
And then a man came and stayed,
He cleaned me and I was an oasis to all,
Until the other men came,
Who killed the both of us.
----------

My heart speaks of love,
My thoughts of sorrow,
Love is so very doubtful,
The sea tide rolls out
	waves crash in.
A single star is spied overhead,
I wish a single wish,
One that no one person has and answer to,
When to hold on and when to let go 
	of love.
From: larryw@hplsla.hp.com (Larry Whatley)
Date: Wed, 26 Aug 1992 19:47:43 GMT
Subject: Morning blues.
Organization: HP Lake Stevens, WA