HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: casteley@phil.ruu.nl (Eric Casteleyn)
Subject: Re: FAQ?
Organization: Department of Philosophy, University of Utrecht, The Netherlands
Date: Mon, 27 Jul 1992 13:46:32 GMT

S3679988@deimos.ucc.umass.edu (S3679988) writes:

>the location of knowledge, i seek
>containing the answers of questions not unique
>a small amount, perchance
>yet enough to better use
>this group on usenet news

>sorry about this little quip
>but my terminal is on a trip
>if you have the answer to my query
>please send your mail in a hurry

>if you don't please don't fret,
>mayhap i'll post a summation, yet



>-- craig hagan

>s3679988@deimos.ucc.umass.edu

  to
    be
      flamed
            by
              the
                 sun
    I write

  and not just any fire

  so far, I've not succeeded

  maybe we're all

  helionauts




     -EJC 

 (hope this answers your questions)
From: ieeug470@Eagle.oscs.montana.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: The Newborn
Date: 31 Jul 92 04:07:29 GMT
Reply-To: ieeug470@Eagle.oscs.montana.edu
Organization: MSU

In article <1992Jul30.183214.27133@mercury.unt.edu>, an26@sol.acs.unt.edu (Dave Roberts) writes:
>
Why don't you explain the shootings and the motive behind them??
Maybe, if you want the attentions that the shooter got, explain the
thinking of the shooter and the horrors of the shot.

Michael the Morbid...

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I think I will kill another...
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
From: Ralph.Cherubini@mdf.FidoNet.Org (Ralph Cherubini)
Sender: uucp@mdf.FidoNet.Org
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Poem--A poet's demise
Date: 29 Jul 92 07:54:39 EST

                        A poet's demise
 
 
He didn't write much after that
after they met
there was so much laundry to do
he just didn't have much energy left over
and then again
the words didn't seem very important
compared to the curve of her ass
and the taste of her cunt
everything's relative you know
and I don't like cliches
but there's a time for everything
and everything in its place.
He who had had such a knack
for putting the right word
in the right place
could now
only
put his cock in the feelingest places
of her
and she made poetry
out of so few sounds
he was amazed
but the rhythm!
he barely had time
each day
to appreciate her sufficiently
and his poetic output
turned from black ink on paper
to whiteness
everywhere
on her in her
he could put it.
The publishers
deemed these contributions
unusable.


 * Origin: Connect America #5, Austin, Tx, 512-459-3351 (1:382/10.0)

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: alam@ucsu.Colorado.EDU (ALAM AFSHAN)
Subject: codependency (the new,improved version: -))
Summary: needs,not really
Keywords: mountains,hands-in-hand
Organization: University of Colorado, Boulder
Date: Mon, 27 Jul 1992 22:56:25 GMT

This is in reply to someone(thanks!) who mailed me a criticism of this poem,
whom my mailer refuses to recognize. So I am using this medium to
reply. Actually his comments led to a second version of
the poem Codependency? so some of you might be interested. Here goes:

>>Hey okay so I went overboard. This poetry thing
>>does go to one's head a bit.How do you all stay
>>sane? Or do you?:-)
>>
>>Afshan Alam.

>overboard? your words, not mine. Only you can make that determination.

It just *felt* overboard,albeit wonderful. Not having written a single
poem in 26 years and suddenly buzzing with them in a space of 2 whole
days! I felt somewhat bad about inflicting them on the r.a.p populance,
hence the overboard part up there.

>stay sane? You say that as if we were at one time quite sane. You
>also imply that we have the faculties to determine what sanity is.
>Has is occurred to you that our definition of sane may be quite 
>different than yours? All things being relative, sanity is the 
>most variable of all variants, particularly if one is not [your] sane, and
>has never been [your] sane, then [his] sane is something alltogether 
>different, completely.

True!1)what is sanity?2)whose definition?
Points well taken.It just feels weird to have poems swirling about in one's
head.I thought other poets would understand that compulsion to write them
down.
Certainly I do appreciate that what I said might have been gratuitous :-)
Thanks for your viewpoints!

And regarding the poem Codependency?:
>Interesting, the first letters of each line *almost* spell your name ;^o (moo).
:-).btw what's moo?
Totally a fluke:-).I never noticed that!But now that u mention it:-)
(i can't do this with my last name but the first name seems to fall right in:)

As they struggled on up their first mountain
First together you know, they had tackled higher alone before
She took his hand
He held on as they cleared the top.
As they stumbled down it  many long hours past
Not noticing the hand still held in hand

They wondered if it had brought them closer.
Many mountains past, saying lighthearted goodbyes
They were each wondering how they had ever climbed alone
And wishing they had broken their hands ere holding the other's
they were both wondering if they would ever climb again..

>You give no sense of urgency, that a true codependant would feel about their
>separate ways. You bring to me a sense of longing, but certainly not the
>kind of preoccupation that a codependant would feel... Just an observation.

I think I see what you mean. Does the new version do justice?

Afshan Alam.
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: kkoller@nyx.cs.du.edu (Capt. Sarcastic)
Subject: Re: My summer fling
Organization: University of Denver, Dept. of Math & Comp. Sci.
Date: Sun, 26 Jul 92 04:13:59 GMT

<U58505@uicvm.uic.edu> writes:

>Hey all.  A cousin of one of my close friends came up to Illinois for summer
>vacation.  She's from Florida and will be heading back in about three weeks.
>Man, I'm sure gonna fucking miss the hell out of her.  Sniffle.  Sigh.
>Anyways we hit it off really well from the start and so far it's been great;
>just goofing around a lot and taking her places.  Well I wrote this poem for
>her, but I haven't given it to her yet.  I plan to on the day she leaves.  Oh,
>I know it's not love; but it sure feels like it.  If any of you guys wanna use
>this poem on some girl and say you wrote it; by all means, go right ahead.
>But bear in mind some girls may not go for it (the prude types); if the girl
>likes to flirt a lot, then chances are she'll like it.  I'm exceptionally
>proud of this poem because I feel it really reflects my relationship with her;
>plus I managed to get the damn thing to rhyme.  I have decided to not give it
>a title; that way it's versatile enough to be used on my next scam.  This also
>means any of you enterprising young guys out there can just insert the name of
>your favorite girly as the title.  Enjoy.

Interesting concept...

>Get up little sleepy head;
>Time for you to make your bed.
>Your smart remarks for awhile;
>Stop to look and find a smile.
>Turn around and close your eyes;
>Listen as I tell you lies.
>Scheme and say you look a mess;
>Trick you to take off your dress.
>Then into the sea,
>Just you and me.
>Ever wonder what to do?
>Should we play a game of you?

Wow.  If I 'used' this on anyone, she'd probably throw up on me.


>Later all,
>The X-Man
--
Self Expression is the Ultimate Key...
Kurtis J. Koller
kkoller@nyx.cs.du.edu
From: s913391@yallara.cs.rmit.OZ.AU (Anthony R. Lazatus)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Heartstrings
Date: 28 Jul 92 03:21:18 GMT

Love is many beautiful things:
Love is the music of heart-strings.

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: breinhar@access.digex.com (Robert B. Reinhardt)
Subject: Trifles I & II
Organization: Express Access Online Communications, Greenbelt, Maryland USA
Date: Fri, 24 Jul 1992 23:04:16 GMT

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE TALES OF AYELSFARN (An Aethereal Menagerie)
 (Second Edition)
 Copyright 1991 by Robert Bryan Reinhardt
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Includes all original and revised poetry and prose
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Tales of Ayelsfarn; An Aetherial Managerie I  (1985)
The Tales of Ayelsfarn; An Aetherial Managerie II (1991)
Copyright 1985, 1991 by Robert Bryan Reinhardt
ISBN 0-8059-2988-6
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

.c2.  Trifles I & II

                                                            
I

The days of our love are here
And again they are gone
And now these strange songs beckon to me
A melody of hope and passion,
All for my dear friend, Kelly.

My friend, my dear:
For thy love, my heart, our love.
Fair and warm is your caress.
Amorous and passionate, thy embrace.
Forever shall I treasure your kiss
And thy visage as my queen.
To thy fine hair and beauty my dear,
My love to thee forever.

                                                            
II

O how I have pondered
Of how to love you from afar.
And it is this sadness
That is my greatest sorrow.
Yet alas, I can do nothing,
But dream, wish and pray
- Forward 'til the 'morrow.

There seems only this one thought
That I can give you
From so very far away.
That is if you may someday still want me,
Please remember my princess
That truly I do love you
And will return home again someday.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                 Robert B. Reinhardt
  /                 /            -----------------------------------------
 /__,_  _  o ____  /_  __.  __   breinhar@access.digex.com
/_)  (_</_<_/ / <_/ /_(_/|_/ (_  breinhar@srg, breinhar%srg@uunet.uu.net

Xref: sparky rec.arts.poems:7705 alt.romance:10284 alt.personals:16573
From: haight@sun.ipl.rpi.edu (Liz Haight)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems,alt.romance,alt.personals
Subject: Re: love poetry
Keywords: love/heart/soul (...sorry guys)
Date: 24 Jul 92 14:41:27 GMT
Organization: Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy, NY


oops - i meant to post this just to rec.arts.poems - wasn't paying attention
to the `newsgroups' line above.
-- 
------------------
Elizabeth           /	Don't pass me by like a stranger ...
haight@ipl.rpi.edu  \	    Don't leave me here all alone, so alone, 
		    /		I'm alone ... Talk to me.  [Chris Isaac]
From: ieeug470@Eagle.oscs.montana.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Poem--My favorite game
Date: 31 Jul 92 04:14:51 GMT
Reply-To: ieeug470@Eagle.oscs.montana.edu
Organization: MSU

In article <2480@tau-ceti.isc-br.com>, cecilw@access.isc-br.com (Cecil Williams) writes:


>What happens when one of the "winners" 
>get tired of playing the game?
>
>Cecil


Hey Cecil,
The loser (the one who gets left) goes mad and kills everyone possibly involved
and then goes and kills everything he knows and then goes insane and 
kills the neighbors and then goes crazy and kills the light and then goes
sane and kills himself.

Basic rage, it destroys your sanity and kills the things and people 
you love.  Then, reality hits and you want to kill yourself  **BANG**

Michael the Morbid...
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I think I will kill another...
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ieeug470@Eagle.oscs.montana.edu
Subject: Re: The cerulean ocean
Reply-To: ieeug470@Eagle.oscs.montana.edu
Organization: MSU
Date: Wed, 22 Jul 1992 17:07:00 GMT

In article <1992Jul21.064625.20112@leland.Stanford.EDU>, jchien@leland.Stanford.EDU (Jennifer Crystal Fang-Chien) w


All I can say is AWESOME!!

Michael...
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As sanity jumped out of his pocket, he cried, "Thank God for 
Burmuda shorts and dead toadstolls!!"
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
From: michaeln@cs.uq.oz.au (Bunweasel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: 'a show of hands' - bits in pieces
Date: 22 Jul 92 14:40:37 GMT
Reply-To: michaeln@cs.uq.oz.au
Organization: Department of Computer Science, The University of Queensland

>from a while ago, r.e. ralph's poetry

>>> Speak for yourself, Michael.  Who are you to decide what the majority
>>> of RAPpers would like to read?

>>> Marie
>
>>O.K., hands up who wants to hear about ... (etc)
>
>>-michael

>though humorous, (i presume), it struck me as an unfair request - even if you
>agree, why would you expose yourself? at first all i could think of was 
>'hands up all those ... students who live on pasta and rice' 

>'a show of hands'    ... [poetic fragments deleted]

Poetic fragments. And off to a fine start, there's no denying.

See what evil comes of controversy.

Cocktail sir?
A fluffy duck -
Gay bubbles in
The Devil's advokaat.

-m.
From: cecilw@access.isc-br.com (Cecil Williams)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Adventure
Date: 25 Jul 92 15:50:39 GMT
Organization: ISC-Bunker Ramo, Spokane, WA


 michaeln@cs.uq.oz.au "bumweasel" writes:
>--> This is a flame directed at "Cecil Williams". If you have
>--> better things to do than read flames, please skip over it.

Michael continues on to say:
> ...
>It's your sort what makes this world a less
>pleasant place to be.
> ...
>Oh, please stop. Has that nasty "Arse Whiffed" been giving
>you lessons on how to write offensive postings?
> ...
>I was hoping to forget.
>
>Until now r.a.p was blissfully free of racist
>pains-in-the-bum like your yourself.
>No, it wasn't funny.
> ...
>He breathed them?
>
>>Cecil
>
>Fuck off.
>
>-m.


Dearest Michael "Bunweasel";
I'm afraid I am at a compete loss here. 
What ARE you ranting and raving about?
You're calling me a racist? I'm the furthest
thing from it. 

I've been to Seoul, Korea, and I happen to 
like Korean food and kimchee. I like the sound of
Bing's name, and you, sir, are apparently oblivious
to the old song "Witch Doctor" by David Seville...
I like to play with words and phrases,
and my brother DOES live in Walla Walla, Wa. 


So, tell me dear Bumweasel, 
what IS your problem?
(Aside from your obvious "shoot first, ask questions later" attitude)

To Bing Bang:
If any part of my post "Re: Adventure"  
looked even remotely offensive,
to you or anyone else,
I hereby publicly apologize.
It was definitely not intended
to be racist or offensive 
in any way!


To Michael "bunweasel":
I expect a public retraction of your flame.
And an apology would be nice...

Cecil
From: petersm@jacobs.CS.ORST.EDU (Marguerite Petersen)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Summer Storm
Date: 31 Jul 92 04:39:29 GMT
Organization: Computer Science Outreach Services - Oregon State University

Hello All!  I haven't been posting lately as it is *heavy* allergy season
for me and I have found that my medication not only makes me drowsy but
seems to have rendered me brain dead as well.   (Darn that grass!) 
Anyway, I have managed to dredge something up so here it is.  C&C welcome.


Summer Storm

Awakened by a sudden noise
I lay in bed quite still
With straining ears I nervously
Attempt to catch the sound.

There's nothing but familiar snores
From nearby in the dark
That tell me he is sound asleep
My everloving spouse.

I peel the sheet off carefully
And rolling to the edge 
I slide my bare feet to the floor
Slipping from the bed.

I pull the blinds up just a bit
To look into the night
When sudden brilliant flash of light
Makkes the room as bright as day.

The jagged lightning fills the sky
As cloud to cloud it flits
And I bedazzled by the show
Watch in silent awe.

As lightning flashes constantly
And thunder rumbles loud
The brooding clouds are torn at last
And earthward falls the rain.

I do not know how long I stood
Watching nature's show
I only know I feel as though
It was worth the price.

Marg
aka Elvira
From: sheila@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu (sheila)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Discussing,
Date: 22 Jul 92 15:45:56 GMT
Organization: The University of Texas at Austin, Austin TX


I typed this here the other day:

"No one is pure.
(will I tire myself out by explaining this? pure? integrity?
o shoot. too much to explain. too much context missing. give me
another day)"

so Maybe today is another day. I'm at work thinking too much about
Plato and Aristotle and Music and making yet another summary of
notes on papers, (Martin Gardner's column from an old Scientific
American - I never realized how much I disagreed with him sometimes,
look at what he wrote! "These deep notions are technical and hard
to understand" I can't believe he wrote this! He certainly has
a limited viewpoint of his Reader.)

At any rate, I'll return with a discussion on purity and
integrity and maybe a few other things. I just realize I left
a book of poetry at home and I wanted to quote a poem from it.
oh well.  Maybe I won't discuss this at all. It seems too 
obvious that no one is pure, if you are defining pure to meen
homogenious. If you define pure some other way, then perhaps
some one could be pure. That always throws me when I want
to think about things that are words like that. Graduate the
word and change it's degree and then see how it affects
your sentence. You can't stick to anything because changing
the variable changes everything. (at least, so far, in practice,
for me, at times, I am not assumeing that this is a correct
view of things, just that I havn't tried hard enough or
thought hard enough to find an execption, or maybe the
things that I find are such variables are the exceptions
and I am not looking at the things which arn't exceptions
and calling the exceptions the things which arn't exceptions.
at any rate, I think I'll go bring a poem later which has 
a view of purity, (is purity realated to pure?) and that
perhaps talking about a traditional view of purity and
agreeing on that graduation mark will help start off
a discussion for a while. sheesh, I'm long winded to say
nothing sometimes.)
and it's not really plato or aristotal or anything, I was
just referrring to them becuase of Martin Gardner. I guess
I could look at purity through their viewpoint. Did they 
believe in it? But do I want to discuss that type of
purity? I don't think so, but mabye the type of pure I am
thinking about has some sort of relation.
-- 
stark raving sane!   sheila@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Their everywhere
From: jabolliger@miavx3.mid.muohio.edu
Date: 27 Jul 92 14:16:15 EST

		-------	The Plastic Life
		
		Barbie is talking to Barbie
		Barbie is a plastic doll
		She lives a plastic life
		her words come from the 
		mouths of little girls.

		Little girls
		 playing barbies
		 growing plastic breasts
		 growing into Barbies.
		Barbie looks for Ken.
		
		Ken is different
		his plastic hair is short
		he has no plastic breasts
		his plastic feet are flat.

		Barbie walks on tiptoes
		 whether 
		she has on heels or not.

		Barbie talks to Ken
		She drives her plastic Van
		to visit his plastic home.
		They swim naked 
		in Ken's new plastic pool.
		
		Barbie  has no plastic womb.
		Ken  has no plastic cock;
		still, the seem to breed.


Jean Ann Bolliger
26 July 1992
From: daq@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom)
Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1992 05:47:04 GMT
Subject: Bless my soul, I wrote a love poem
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems


   Love is not
   ------------

Here we have oblivion.
Ah Jeanne de Montfort 
You proved your honor well.
You did us proud, 
and now, this castle your ignoble shell,
the silent swell of nothing.

Yes the void breathes hard upon your heart,
Jeanne de Montfort.  Would you were here
my French born dear to cut my head
and bleed my lungs, 
upon which
dandy flags are flung.

Oh bloody bloody bloody great 
Oh Jeanne oh Jeanne oh Jeanne,
too late.

Jeanne I smell your courage, Jeanne 
I hear your eyes squirming in dark sockets
seeking for low skies.
But skies no longer
form cathedrals for your
deliquescent skin.
You beat them.
Did you win?

And now as my prefab walls seem stone, 
all I think when all alone, 
when real things still seem quite near,
I fear I fear I fear dear Jeanne,
that you and I have never been.
I fear that both of us just never were.
I feel our neverness grow and stir
within a ventricle:  that's all I've left.

The rest is cleft, and I just sit here
thinking, as I am sure you sat there thinking:

   Lovely lovely lovely
   oh yes oh yes oh yes
   sing once sing twice sing thrice and then

   voidvoidvoidvoidvoidvoidvoidvoidvoidvoidvoidvoidvoidvoidvoidvoid



doug

I'm sorry dear Oscar.
I think I stole the void breathes heavy on your heart line
from Nietzsche or something like that.  Oh well, if he doesn't
like it, the bastard can sue me.

To quote Don Z.  "The dead are not amused by your little jeste."

...One of my favorite lines ever...

have not have not have not
have have have 
zooom!  schwartz.



7-24-92
From: casteley@phil.ruu.nl (Eric Casteleyn)
Subject: Re: FAQ?
Organization: Department of Philosophy, University of Utrecht, The Netherlands
Date: Tue, 28 Jul 1992 11:17:30 GMT

S3679988@deimos.ucc.umass.edu (S3679988) writes:

>(heh)

>To be singed by fire is a nasty trick
>to you i use the ember
> as 
>    a 
>      wick.

  Go right ahead,
  and don't go easy
  embrace me to ashes.



          EJC
From: denelsbe@washington.cs.unc.edu (Kevbo)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: The Night Sky
Date: 23 Jul 92 16:26:42 GMT


		The Night Sky

	Suspended (as I am) in this velvet solution, a problem:
	Am I a monk devoutly floating above my bed,
	Or a startled moth in a sudden web?

---------
Kev @ UNC
7/23/92
-- 
|| +------------------+  With the fabric of reality shredding all around him,
||-| Kev @ UNC        |  the Headless Horseman threw the banana at Ichabod
||-| Master Poetaster |  Crane.
|| +------------------+                      -- from a Sentence Game
From: pmapleson@peg.pegasus.oz.au
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Letter From An Unknown Address
Date: 30 Jul 92 05:14:00 GMT
Nf-ID: #N:peg:212700028:000:1155
Nf-From: peg.UUCP!pmapleson    Jul 30 00:14:00 1992


_________________________________________________________________
               Letter from an unknown address
_________________________________________________________________

       It arrived and we wondered
       What were their faces like?
       Whose hand held the pen?
       Would they be angry or sad if we opened their mail?

       We were only curious -
       Just wanted to know what they had sent
       It wasn't malicious
       It wasn't a crime

       She said "This is the end"
       "I can't live like this any more
       "The torment is too hard"
       "Release me!"

       But the letter came to us
       It never reached Him

       "Ring me and say I'm wrong" she wrote
       "Ring me today or tomorrow
        for the weekend will be too late"
       Already it is Monday
       
       By mistake, on Thursday it arrived

       We couldn't decide whether to open it until today

       "Good-bye my love" she said

       and signed it only "Yours xxx"

_________________________________________________________________
               Peter Mapleson
_________________________________________________________________
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: 78witherspoo@cuavax.dnet.cua.edu
Subject: var. on a theme of love, II
Organization: The Catholic University of America
Date: Tue, 21 Jul 1992 19:24:23 GMT

In article <QeP4uNC00WBKI2sKp8@andrew.cmu.edu>, "Kathleen A. Rafferty" <kr22+@andrew.cmu.edu> writes:
> whoops - it's been some years since private music lessions - the
> terminology is a bit rusty...c & c still welcome.  kath
> 
> variation on a theme of love
> 
> 
> i.  elegy (dolce)

Ah, this makes much more sense than the previous title.

 
> ii.  coital bliss (adagio)

Why an adagio?  It sounded awfully forte to my ear...

Love and I like it!,

Tom W.(itherspoon) 	
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems