HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: ctschmid@mtu.edu (Schmidt)
Subject: manhole cover
Organization: Michigan Technological University
Date: Mon, 5 Oct 1992 04:08:02 GMT

Manhole covers big and round
Cover gaping holes in the ground
If they weren't there
Think of the kids who'd disappear

They'd fall down into the stinking pits
Where flow wretched rivers of putrid piss
Brown and yellow, mixed in one
A walk down there would be no fun

They'd be forced to wander the endless halls
Past rats and frogs and mildewed walls
Broken glass and toilet paper
Dead goldfish and mutant gators

We need more protection from that sea of sewage
We need recouse from the geyser of spewage
For all our safety do I fear
A scream from below would no one hear

Locks and chains is what we need 
To save us from where the liberals feed
Bars of steel and loud alarms
To keep us out of the cockroach farms

I imagine a day when we need not worry
Of the wrath of the violent toilet's fury
Though I suppose for now these lids must do
To separate us from the piles of poo

X



--
From: wstrutin@lehi3b15.CSEE.Lehigh.EDU (Wendy Strutin)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: What Time Does
Keywords: 'Freydom
Date: 7 Oct 92 01:15:35 GMT
Organization: Lehigh University, CSEE Dept, Bethlehem, PA

WHAT TIME DOES

it amazes me
i could have been
so sick and still alive
but all my mortal fibers 
must have stretched to keep from dying
a wounded girl
a lonely child
praying for a grave
thinking all the suffering
would bring me fame someday
with poetry for publishing
the day i chose to pass
wishing sickness constantly
would devour me at last.

here on the other side of madness
i can't understand those words
transcribed my gods with rhyming trends
i swore my psyche heard.
i must have been so ill - so gone
the documents proclaim: manic and depressive  
at this distance seems a game
as the mantra of my death fades out
i can't believe my rhymes
that i could ever hold the pain
my morbid words where crying.


					\/\/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: jtrue@acpub.duke.edu (john)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: outside joke / jrue
Date: 4 Oct 92 16:04:20 GMT


It is truly rueful that I tried to type that subject line
without having had my morning cup of coffee.

-jtrue  
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: steele@aem.umn.edu (Stephanie Steele)
Subject: Morning
Summary: Morning
Keywords: Morning
Organization: University of Minnesota
Date: Tue, 6 Oct 1992 23:44:58 GMT

Morning


in my flannel
nightgown
bare feet
newspaper
maybe a squirrel
picking at the lawn
neighbors starting
cars
a cat pawing
through the alley
i don't see this
just coffee
ink
woman held at gunpoint for six hours is raped in her own bed
a patch of salty light
steam clouding over cup
and saucer
one dog licks my cold
foot
the other snores in the corner
by the stove
countries of no particular
shape
falling off the map
the way i fall
in dreams
the new york
times
crossword
i use a pen
and know all the answers


sls
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ralph@wixer.cactus.org (Ralph Cherubini)
Subject: Poem--You see the sea
Organization: Real/Time Communications
Date: Sun, 27 Sep 92 16:03:55 GMT


                        You see the sea

You see
the sea
is the basic connection
for me
with all that ever was
its substance
could
under proper conditions
assume any whatsoever shape
anykind
usually
we just get waves
but what if?
the water temperature dropped
instantly
to 0 degrees Kelvin
while the local waters
were formed legibly into
Henry IV Part whatever
or the figure of an elephant
if you prefer?
This can happen
here
as the waves of ideation
flow in unprecedented ways
and we amaze
one another
just for fun...
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: rbear@inferno.uoregon.edu (Richard Bear)
Subject: For Silencing Critics
Organization: University of Oregon Network Services
X-Newsreader: Tin 1.1 PL5
Date: Sat, 3 Oct 92 05:47:54 GMT


Samuel Taylor Coleridge said to all
that hope to make a living doubting men:
That criticism which must aim to find a fault
finds what must always everywhere be found,
common as is the dirt from which we came;
but finding something good in any work
is finding what could not have been forseen. 

So the light that shone from Stella's eyes
be what it will to those who must hate themselves
for having to flatter occupants of chairs:
that light remains for those who love to read,
to sound out words of beauty to the night.
It holds its own domain by its own might
and is that kind of truth that beauty is.


rbear


apologies to keats...and sidney...
From: jqtaylor@hpdmd48.boi.hp.com (John Quill Taylor)
Date: Fri, 25 Sep 1992 18:02:21 GMT
Subject: private oceans
Organization: Hewlett Packard - Boise, ID
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems

                       private oceans

                  the old man lives in the
                  little girl's smile -
                  he relishes it.

                  he knows
                          before he sleeps
                          he will cry
                          private oceans
                          for her to swim in.

                  the sun would dry his tears
                     were it bright enough -
                  the ocean would hold his tears
                     were it deep enough.

                           - jqt -
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: st911293@pip.cc.brandeis.edu ("Carmen")
Subject: Poem--And yes, I am out every night
Reply-To: st911293@pip.cc.brandeis.edu
Organization: Brandeis University
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 1992 03:53:09 GMT

And yes, I am out every night

every curl teased
a third coat of mascara
then pull a second skin
over legs of silk
I love the promise in
a party dress cling
the heels and the earrings
just dancing
the beat holds me close on
nothing but lights
and the rhythm pulling
straight up and through
the heart's staccato chant
every beat too fast and
just right.
From: cecilw@access.isc-br.com (Cecil Williams)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Frost
Date: 7 Oct 92 00:08:32 GMT
Organization: ISC-Bunker Ramo, Spokane, WA


	Yesterday Fog.
		lights
			lights
				lights
					lights...

	Today Frost.
		scrape
			scrape
				scrape
					scrape...





Cecil Williams
10/6/92
From: bob@netxcom.netx.com (Robert Thralls)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Poem--An honest dignity (A Canary's Cat)
Date: 6 Oct 92 23:08:49 GMT
Organization: NetExpress Inc., Vienna, VA, USA


In article <1992Oct1.134650.22579@wixer.cactus.org> you write:
>
>                        An honest dignity
>
>An honest dignity
>in acknowledging through silence
>the difficulty of saying anything significant
>a human dignity
>suitable to human beings
>but not to songbirds.
>
>-- 
>ralph@wixer.cactus.org

Hi Ralph,

Your diction seems to overbear your simple message. A glance,
stare, blush, non-response is so incredibly effective. Word
choice delivers your message only roughly. May I suggest
smoother wording that reflects that of the feeling in a 
non-word or lack of word response. A non-word response is 
also concise, one should refrain from being wordy, try removing
extraneous words and those that can be implied. Give the abrupt 
synbolism that goes with that less-than-wordy gaze.

Without changing words too much:

Human dignity
Acknowledged silently
Difficult significance
Humanly suitable
Not of songbirds

choppy, yes?
Perhaps we've taken away too much, but do you see my point?

Changing the words: (and twisting on metaphor)
This isn't quite the same, but inspired by yours...


	A Canary's Cat

Honest dignity.
Perched high,
Absentee Whistler
Pecks damaged plumage.
Tufts of bloody fur
Intermittently float from above.




Note the twist in meanings, but moreover note that metaphor plays
a bigger part in feeling of silent dignity and the respect
that it commands. Imagine if you will, the poor cat still watching
the bird from the ground. Who has dignity? who has self respect?
Would the cat not have climbed the tree? Was he not in the right
to do so? Why wouldn't he climb tree apart from learning a lesson?
Why didn't the bird fly away? Why does the cat watch, cleansing his
wounds? Didn't I put all this in the poem? Why does the canary 
command dignity and why does the cat have to wait to recover his?
What is 31 and 11 added together? Who first said, "Mmmmm mmmmm good"?
How many books in the 10th anniversary edition of "Hitchhickers' Guide"?
These and many more questions answered in 'Encyclopedia Montanica' already
available in bookstores nowhere.

Hope this makes sense to more than one of us.

Arnica Montana
From: zen@death.Corp.Sun.COM (d)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: cryptic pain
Date: 29 Sep 92 20:27:52 GMT
Organization: Sun Microsystems Inc., Mountain View, CA
NNTP-Posting-Host: death.corp.sun.com


here i am again in bed
stroking my skin
  trying to let the feelings
    go to my head

i am here but not alone
incommunicado
   my partners there in
     the nightmare zone

am i awake
for gods sake
say that im not
if all our problems
were just a sad bad dream
id like to wake up now, please
From: cdl0915@ritvax.isc.rit.edu (Christian Dylan Losinger)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: High School Love
Date: 2 Oct 92 12:50:27 GMT
Reply-To: cdl0915@ritvax.isc.rit.edu
Organization: Rochester Institute of Technology


	this is my tribute to Beat Happening.
	It's a lovely two chord song , in the delightful key of G

	---------------------------------------------------------        


    	i won tickets on the radio
    	to see an old-time movie show
    	i ask if you would like to go
    	you said, "umm i dont know"
    
    	i called you on wednesday night
    	you said you weren't feeling right
    	your stomach hurt, your head was light
    	oh well, maybe some other time...
    	
    	but you went out with Big Fat Bob
    	i think he is a stupid slob
    	don't you think it's kind of odd
    	that he wears his sister's socks?
    
    	what a silly girl you are
    	i wish that i could get a car
    	and drive you out to my dad's farm
    	and show you how bright the stars
    
    	shine when you're with me...
        --------------------------------------------------------------
        	c  h  r  i  s   l  o  s  i  n  g  e  r   r  i  t
From: hornpete@uctvax.uct.ac.za (Peter Horn)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Roshila Nair: Poem
Date: 2 Oct 92 19:10:12 GMT
Article-I.D.: uctvax.1992Oct2.171012.202964
Organization: University of Cape Town

moonlight keeping up with jones
-------------------------------


beauty is 
a perfect moon hanging
outside my bedroom window,
peace is
finally slumbering around me
in my home
in my neighbours' homes,
my father's snores comforting from the next room
this tropical Natal night
the midsummer mating songs of crickets
the glory of being
the solitary witness
to this breathless shining -
a momentary Sheba commanding
the best lit view of silver
shape and shadow
no - silhouette ...
in a split the strangling cries of a child
rents the shining peace
the frantic scratchings of a lock unturning
a door thumped open,
from my hanging window upstairs
i see Shantima stagger
into my perfect moon scene,
her hair is wild
her sleeping robe ripped
a clawed at breast hangs out
i see her mouth bloodied
one arm hanging the wrong way,
and i saw you, jones,
follow with a golf club
your fly open
and sister moon was hanging
directly over you.


Roshila Nair

-- 
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Posted by 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 
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: kyrsten@eos.arc.nasa.gov (Kyrsten Swazey)
Subject: VIRTUAL SEX
Organization: NASA Ames Research Center
Date: Fri, 2 Oct 1992 00:43:20 GMT

                     ***VIRTUAL SEX***

His hand slid slowly up my thigh
 While i gazed into his auburn eyes.
Skin of silver, hair indigo and russet,
 Myself, i could not see -
An erie, vampiric quality...

But the feelings of Virtual Touch
 Vibrated out from my stomach;
I tasted the cinnamon of his skin
 Anticipating the fires of orgasm -
 Rasping breath and grasping fingers,
Melting fudge and burning fusion...

Worlds spiraled beneath us as he entered me
 In an   explosion   of cotton candy
I screamed the agony and the ecstasy
 Of a filling - i the mold and he the molten.
I teasted the copper of lead and he shaped
 To fit me and i to him...

A whisper of climax built in my ears
 Tickling the lobes and nape of the neck;
Roaring leaped upon bursting colors,
 Upon our bodies expanding...

Shifting to red, we entered the beginning
 Tickled the electrons of the Big Bang.
Before aeons of illusions,
 I wept mango tears
As we strobed the rainbow and lept
       to become the universe;
We enveloped the universe...

Infinity dawned in hyper-color,
 Real-time devoured our shadows
As we exploded outwards
 Steel and earth bittered into shards -
We flew
           and
                    we all
    ....Climaxed together....

The earth between my thighs
 And needles in my eyes.


                               -XTC-
From: michaeln@cs.uq.oz.au (Bunweasel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Creation of Urdu newsgroup
Date: 4 Oct 92 14:12:09 GMT
Reply-To: michaeln@cs.uq.oz.au
Organization: Department of Computer Science, The University of Queensland

Um. Have I missed the point?

Why is this dull thread droning on about making another
group to cater for all these thousands of Urdu poems,
when, as far as I've noticed, nobody has actually posted
any? Nobody complains about the odd scribble in French
or Afrikaans that turns up in RAP. It's no good hosing
the shit off your boots till you've stepped in it, and
the postman should stuff what he can in the letter-box
before ringing the doorbell. Or something. Thank you.

-/\/\/\/-
Organization: University of Maine System
Date: Wednesday, 30 Sep 1992 13:47:34 EDT
From: The Judge <IO20444@MAINE.MAINE.EDU>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Cold hearted

                  Cold hearted

Swifting along
in the tremulous breeze
Trepidation and fury
and fear, as it seems,

Washes over your body
In torrents of rain
And somewhere inside you
(It's never the same)

With a burst of confusion
and lifting off speed
you go crashing along
through the currents of rage

And you're flying along
with the wind at your back
and human emotions
are all that you lack...

-----------------------------DMB

---***(((---Daphne Brinkerhoff---)))***---..## I TURNED MY LIFE AROUND,
---***(((---_University of Me.---)))***---..## AND NOW I'M BACK WHERE I
If these weren't my own opinions, why would.## STARTED!!! --ANONYMOUS
I be posting them?..........................## ---***(((&&&)))***---
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Subject: Two poems from Gard
Reply-To: karloey@aahs.no
Organization: Iowa State University
Date: Mon, 5 Oct 1992 18:25:11 GMT


Below are two poems I am posting at the request of the author who does not 
have Usenet access right now.  


              My own loss
=========================
         I miss you when you're there
         so far away from me
         when I can't hold you
         and feel your body against mine

         I miss you when you're there
         out of range, out of sight
         when I can't kiss you
         and hug you

         I miss you when you're here
         and I don't dare to say hello





                 Fall
=====================
         Fall is here
         and I'm falling
         with it.
         blood drips from
         my mouth
         I dunno when I
         started drooling
         like that.
         I guess it's showtime.


/--------------------------------------------------------------------------\
|           And the world shall forever be mine...                         |\
|                                   Gard - using KARLOEY@AAHS.NO           ||
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------/|
 \--------------------------------------------------------------------------/
Organization: University of Illinois at Chicago
Date: Sunday, 27 Sep 1992 00:18:02 CDT
From: <U27317@uicvm.uic.edu>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: poem-Fifty Cent Love

Fifty Cent Love

Move me baby
Turn on the machine
You don't have to wait for the green light
Just go
go,go,go
Tonight we belong to each other
Our fifty cent love


        Mel
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: tolman%asylum.cs.utah.edu@cs.utah.edu (Kenneth Tolman)
Subject: Re: manhole cover
Date: 5 Oct 92 11:47:54 MDT
Organization: University of Utah, CompSci Dept

>Steam always pours out of the manhole covers and curb drains
>here and I don't know why.
>(just wondering why steams is always pouring out of the U of Md campus 
>underground.)

The steam rolls out from the underground so that some days it will
swirl up and gust around you as you hurry along.  It is a prop put there
by campus workmen to add mystery and innuendo to a few campus walks.
One day you will be rushing in a crowd and the steam will rise up around
and you will be distant swept up for a moment into a cool detachment..
it will pass.


Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems,soc.culture.pakistan,soc.culture.indian,soc.culture.afganistan,news.groups
From: dogar@rtsg.mot.com (Haroon H. Dogar)
Subject: Re: Creation of Urdu newsgroup
Organization: Motorola Inc., Cellular Infrastructure Group
Date: Fri, 2 Oct 1992 17:02:07 GMT

marek@casbah.acns.nwu.edu (Marek Lugowski) writes:

>Many assents on news.groups indicate enthusiasm for an "Urdu newsgroup".
>The 3rd RFD talks broadly about discussing Urdu, the culture and the
>language.  If so, please reconsider, Ali, if hanging a sub-rec.arts.poems
>newsgroup is the right way to go about it.

>It has been said before and I would like to say it again:  It appears
>that a soc.culture.urdu and a soc.culture.urdu.ghzalas (or whatever) 
>is what people really want.  Let's not start a rush of rec.arts.poems.*
>newsgroups by setting an example -- I don't think this is your intention.

>I mean, do we also need rec.arts.books.urdu?  rec.bicycles.urdu?
>alt.dan-quale.urdu?...

>				-- Marek


Might it be worthwhile to investigate the possibility of creating
a new hierarchy of newsgroups along the line of soc.lang.* ?

-hd
From: beh@kropotkin.gnu.ai.mit.edu (various Howellses)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Why do you stroke my trembling hand
Date: 30 Sep 92 21:34:57 GMT
Article-I.D.: kropotki.BEH.92Sep30173457
Distribution: rec
Organization: Internet access via the Free Software Foundation


Due to the nature of the poem titled 
"Why do you stroke my trembling hand", I feel it necessary to state here
that there was nothing drawn from real life in that poem, but it was rather
written on a series of feelings, raw emotions.  I have received an
overwhelming number of comments in private mail on that poem, and it was
enough to cause my husband to read it, and become worried... so, lest I
gave the wrong impression, there was nothing like to real life in it.
(at least, not my real life) :)

*end disclaimer*

--Nancy Howells
(beh@gnu.ai.mit.edu through the good graces of my husband)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: tconnors@morgan.ucs.mun.ca (Tim Connors )
Subject: The waxlessness of Yolandas seatbelt
Organization: Memorial University of Newfoundland
Date: Fri, 2 Oct 1992 03:34:41 GMT

                "The housepet"

          "So cute!" claim friends
          "Adorable" stated Agnes
          "My! Cuddly!" exclaimed Pierre

          But I see through their lies,
          I feel the anger in their eyes.
        
          They hate my housepet with unseen rage
          They wish it dead or in a cage.
 
          (Of course, it isn't real)


              "Jump!"

 (lightly)  You sing a song of sweet jungles and proud animals!
            JUMP, MY LOVE!
            You see the beauty where others cannot!
            JUMP, MY LOVE!
            You rejoice in the beuauty of the world!
            JUMP, MY LOVE!
            
(scorned)   I CAN'T STAND IT WHEN YOU MOCK MY CLOTHES!
            JUMP, BY GOD!!
            I HATE IT WHEN YOU SPEAK SO DAINTY,
            SO JUMP, JUMP SOON!
            I WISH TO SEE YOUR BLOODY BODY STREWN AMONG THE ROCKS WITH
            BUZZARDS EATING YOUR EYES AND FLESH.
            SO SEE IF I GIVE A SWEET SHIT AND JUMP OFF THIS CLIFF YOU
            ANTAGONIZING BITCH!

*note to psychologists- There is no underlying hate here, merely a silly
                        poem. Therapy has me doing quite well.
         tconnors@morgan.ucs.mun.ca
               Tim Conners
                 PW
Poetic Wheelbarrow where the beer is cold, the paper's in abundance and
the cabbage? Hey who ordered this damn cabbage?





x
x
                
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: steele@aem.umn.edu (Stephanie Steele)
Subject: girls
Keywords: merriam webster's girl
Organization: University of Minnesota
Date: Tue, 6 Oct 1992 20:01:24 GMT

Merriam-Webster's Girl


1.) "A female child" as in-
    'it's a-'
    'atta-'
    hairless, pink, and, or can't

    2.) "A young unmarried woman"
	as in-
	hy-men, not w/outl/ife, less

	3.) "A woman of any age"
	    as in-
	    mother, fetish, and, or cunt
	    which see babe, which see


	    sls.
	    p.s., can anybody give me info on how to get to know
	    this editor? i'm new at this stuff.
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Subject: tribal dances / Marie Coffin
Reply-To: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Organization: Iowa State University
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 1992 22:48:31 GMT


	tribal dances
	-----------------------------------
	
	under every tree
	the yellow and red
	and green and gold
	and silver
	tribes are dancing.
	
	they flutter so slowly
	not weighed down
	by any harder feelings
	than the autumn sun.
	
	come embrace
	the joyous ice
	and put out
	the smouldering fires
	inside.


Marie Coffin
September 28, 1992
From: bpaul@maths.tcd.ie (Barry Paul)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Connected
Date: 6 Oct 92 14:50:07 GMT
Organization: Dept. of Maths, Trinity College, Dublin, Ireland.


Connected
~~~~~~~~~

I stand alone in this sacred place
landscape crushing in.
Primeval power pulses through veins
raising my awareness.
Sea 
Wind 
Earth and Rock
intent on this one spot.
Stillness grows, holds me, shows me
I am connected.

Feet planted on the shore
curling toes feel, through soul, into bedrock:
Potent, restrained, watching and waiting
while being tortured from below.
I feel the cliffs dignified gaze
push lightly on my back.
Arms outstreched, I lean to the wind
Trusted, it catches carresses enfolds -
Searching for a lovers soft skin.
It seduces my spirit with loves great ease
then takes me and takes me and takes me again
out over the soft white sand.

I close my eyes and there I am still
amid the surf torn spray -
waves crashing redeeming abluting receding
restoring my faith again

            
-- 
<<.><.><.><.><.><"Protect me from what I want" -Jenny Holzer><.><.><.><.><.>>
<<Barry Paul><.><.><Trinity College Dublin><.><.><Ireland><.><.><1-702-1531>>