HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: deborahz@titan.ucc.umass.edu (DEBORAH L ZANDELL)
Subject: Waterfalls
Organization: University of Massachusetts, Amherst
Date: Wed, 14 Oct 1992 23:30:28 GMT

Water 
      falls 
             down
                   the
                        stairs,

Reaching the bottom, it piles up,
Atop itself, flowing ever upward as the

Water
      falls,

Clear and clean, loosely flowing robe of 
The Bishop of Aberdeen,

Water falls down, 
Water flows up,
There's no such thing,
It's not been seen,
I even proved it once,
But there's no such thing,
As a perpetual motion machine,
Though for water clear and clean and mystical-flowing,
There's no such thing for dewdrops, 
No such thing for dust,
No such thing in all I know and in all that I trust,
There must, be a reason,
And it must be quite right,
Why waterfalls flow just downwards, and not up, day or night.

There's no such thing,
It's not been seen,
Did you      
Once invent one too?
Please, let me hear from you,
There's no such thing, 
It's not been seen,
As a good, old-fashioned,
(Newtonian outlaw!)
Perpetual motion machine. 

Deborah Zandell, October 13, 1992.
From: bob@netxcom.netx.com (Robert Thralls)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: RE: Calliope O'Toole
Date: 16 Oct 92 22:42:23 GMT
Organization: NetExpress Inc., Vienna, VA, USA


>Dear rap,
>
>I post the following for the dear Calliope O'Toole.  She hopes that through
>this poem Joe will pity her and return.  And it may be just the thing to
>bring him over.
>
>Come home Joe
>
>
>my reverie broken by their spouting
>reams of verse so blank and gormless
>with subjects sexual and formless
>
>and o god there are haikus growing
>It's so long since you did the mowing
>they clog the soul where they appear
>I though you poisoned them last year
         ^
         t?

>
>when ones like "spitoon" should be found
>
>So please return all is forgiven
>before to reaping grim I'm driven
>and please do bring your pruning shears
>and make the morlocks bring their spears
>THEN we will have a working bee
>of satire sweet and parody
>
>My garden will no more be florid
>with littered leaves of triplets horrid
>but be set out in serried rows
>of your belle-lettres bellicose
>and in our hammocks with our fans
>we'll snuggle down with verse that scans
>
>Calliope O'Toole

I find these to be aimed at the generality, including yourself...

Dear Calliope...

	Some time ago, while playing golf, a ranger approached us and said,
	"Alright, move on, get off the green."

	maybe he was talking to you, O'toole. Why must you morn him so
	grievously, even to the point of leaving your own garden unattended.
	If you dislike like it, as he must have, maybe pulling weeds or 
	plowing under, as Joe did, isn't the answer. 

	Maybe planting protectors is the way to go. Stop using poisons and
	chemical phrases, use herbs to twart unwanted weeds and pests. 

	Feed the soil, not the plant; your garden may prosper once again.
	You are no gardener, you are the centepeed! eating at roses
	as you please, but you haven't found food for thought, nor given any.
	You hang out in a garden carving leaves, do you call that art?

	dudeh! dudeh!
	Only you can cause change, Calliope.
	Why do think Joe would do it for you?
	It seems to be your problem, you do something about it.
	Be a gardener, nurture your plants, noone else is going
	to keep the garden in the shape that you would want it in.
	The only way to keep all the plants from sagging is with a post.
	Some mail order seeds can be planted, but it won't help the whole
	of the garden. One must thread from post to post to hold up
	those that believe in gravity.
	Green thumbs require work that you have not yet undertaken.
	Go, Calliope, into the garden, ground yourself amoung the herbs
	and invoke the power to shape the garden from within.
	Begging for Joe is like believing in 'God' and that some
	external force is going to solve all your damn problems.
	From within, not without. 
	Only you.

no signature required.
From: gilligan6855@iscsvax.uni.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: .sig thank you *wow*
Date: 7 Oct 92 14:14:56 -0500
Organization: University of Northern Iowa

This is a test .sig thank you to all those who e-mailed me .signature help.

thank you cecil tom jesse and sheila
ps sheila i love your posts and your unbelievable insanity
                          love to all 
                               care
-- 
*   carolee    *      *            *   "listen,for(out of all    *     *
 gilligan6855@iscsvax.uni.edu   *  *    things)dream is noone's fool"      *
 *                 *               *           *      __e.e. cummings *
*******************************************************************************          
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: cass8806@elan.glassboro.edu (KYLE CASSIDY)
Subject: emerson poem?
Organization: Rowan College of New Jersey
Date: Wed, 14 Oct 1992 19:01:27 GMT

i don't want to throw off anybodies momentum here, but i'm looking for an 
emerson poem...it contains the line "natures red of tooth and claw" i think 
the first line is something like "the slayer in red..."

this has been bothering me.

now back to your regularly scheduled poem...

kc
From: dbeacham@willamette.edu (Daniel Beacham)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Trying again
Date: 15 Oct 92 19:19:59 GMT
Article-I.D.: willamet.Bw6GDC.GMC
Organization: Willamette University, Salem OR


	Testing, testing

	one
	two
	three..

	Eureka!  Hello sports fans and jabolliger.  I'm back
	with a bite.

			daniel  dbeacham@willamette.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: rmguy@david.wheaton.edu (Richard Mark Guy)
Subject: spring
Organization: Wheaton College, IL
Distribution: na
Date: Thu, 8 Oct 1992 01:19:28 GMT

This is the first poem I have written in about two years,
I would appreciate any comments.

spring

Come on my big bonnnie blueyed lass
come out from your ohsoswollwen eyes
come streaming into the miracle of violet
violent spring
Come on 
sing with the spheres     
                          dd    
dance knowingly with the e  ying leaves
proclaim 
	 loudlylovinglyliquidly

creation(fantastic weird)'s 
   blustering 
filibuster of light

Damn Them All 
my simple sighing sweetheart
Damn the the down mouthed reasonable souls
damn them and their passionless (pre)cautions
&
Come swiftly into the sun.

-richard
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: moh2@ellis.uchicago.edu (Kateri/Mary Anne)
Subject: Willing Deception (comments welcome)
Reply-To: moh2@midway.uchicago.edu
Organization: University of Chicago Computing Organizations
Date: Mon, 12 Oct 1992 21:18:58 GMT

	Willing Deception

Limbs locked together, straining forever
Heart pressed to heart, never apart,
And life is a song, but it won't be long,
Till it ends.

So for the space of a summer's sweet twilight,
Blessed oblivion from the bleakness of lies.

But wake,
Shake your head,
Climb up out of bed...

Stop trying to claim that the truth's in his eyes.

I love you forever
I never will leave you
You'll come meet my family,
Build a house, have some kids.
A home in the suburbs, or maybe the city
Big plans for the future...

He's gone.

Don't be surprised, you knew it would happen...
The cycle repeating, the faces may change.
But one thing stays constant; you always believe him
So blame yourself, child, when it ends.

*****

M.A. Mohanraj
September 30, 1992
-- 
The autumn leaves are falling like rain.
Although my neighbors are all barbarians,
And you, you are a thousand miles away,
There are always two cups at my table.		 - A T'ang Dynasty poem
From: donz@ui.org (Posthumous O'Toole)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Jell-o, ace, is the copper moon
Date: 13 Oct 92 18:03:18 GMT
Organization: UNIX International, Parsippany, NJ


Jell-o--Jow Are You?


I dreamed that Jell-O was made from milk.
What white gel this?  What purity ripp'd by fork?
I screamed as my wife shook me.
I demanded a breast feeding.
Not lactating, she slapped me
hard.

I cried white tears,
hardening.


Posthumous O'Toole
10-13-92
-- 
nobody/not even the rain/              	/	   /      /  /    
 /   /   /     /   /   / /     /       /    /    // /    /  /         /    
/     / / /   /   /     /   / /    / /   / / /  /  /   /      /      /
   / /   /   /	/	 / /      //    /   / /     / /      / / / 
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: mongoose@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au (Conrad Leviston)
Subject: Suggestion: plans with poems in them
Organization: Monash University General Access Unix
X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.1 PL6]
Date: Thu, 8 Oct 1992 08:03:04 GMT


	Anyone written any poetry for their plan file? Why not get someone
to  make a list of those who do, and make up a sort of faq file of those
people with poetic plans (prefferably not plagiarised poetic plans). You
can start with mine if you like.
-- 
Conrad Leviston	 | Got to find a brightness in the soul,
mongoose@yoyo.	 | Not look outside to find out where we are,
cc.monash.edu.au | Otherwise you won't be satisfied, 
Save the gherkin | 'Til you've made possession of the stars. (K.Wallinger)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: ejg@ednor.bbc.com (Ed Gaudet)
Subject: First Post 
Organization: Boston Business Computing, Ltd.
Date: Fri, 9 Oct 1992 17:16:32 GMT


This is my first post.  I'd appreciate any email (constructive please :-)


Ed



The age of jazz and beats, to be
alive during that time would have been sweet 
sorrow or pain,
alcohol collapsing veins,
subject alive, knowing
no way in,
or out at last.
She appears,
wearing nothing,
something rings, sings
sloppy ending.  Borroughs
bellows insomnia, punctuating
promiscuity, he leaps leggless,
along Le Seine.


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



In Algiers 

		March 14, 1992


Pools of black 
speed, quench
my muse, desire
to write.  You
naked truth, arms
stretched, alone
sophisticated sophication.

I'm effete, life
limps vicariously -
drenched with thought
telling excitement,
smells of chlorine death
by a black pool.


	II

Awaken, stuff pours
from cranial recess. Success
stops playing - child dreams
screams, locus steams
through vents, 
hell-bent on maudlin effects.

Listen, stuff sours 
from floral tendency.  Portal
copulation.

	III

Discount your
fear, burn 
bridges.  I know 
later you'll 
choose out from other
reason.  Ripe
conjecture, plastic
certainity of being.

A lucious unknown
beginning, beloved
narrative; Thrive
tenancious bean, born
of luck.  Treat
laughter, naked
lunch for two.

Um,  I can't wait
that long, clarify
where I am,
am not.  One
real saint glistens
with seniality.

I hope.  Hope
is for grass.

	IV

What you told me,
sort of, doesn't
have to be, I mean
it's o.k.

Well, how do you feel?

	Yeah...no...right?

What I'm saying is...

	What...

Please call me.
	Yes I would.

The machine is on.  She's there

	Um...

all day - Until at least 12:30.

	Um, yeah.

What I'm saying is you can, or you

	Yeah, I know...I
	
don't have to.

	Yeah, right...right.

I've just come here to tell you
that if you want to meet again,
let's just do it.

	
--------------------------------------------
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: anonymous
Subject: puke
Organization: DSO, Stanford University
Date: Mon, 12 Oct 92 02:51:52 GMT

puke

You make me want to puke
And the things I see you do
You may not like it but it's true.
You make me want to puke

As endless time keeps ticking
Helpless I watch world rearrange
What's the use of living
If there's nothing I can change

In them I have no other say
That's why I'm writing this today
If only everything could be
Understandable and just like me.

You make me want to puke
And the things I see you do
You may not like it but it's true.
You make me want to puke




beat the system
peace.
From: donz@ui.org (Don Zirilli)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Shades of Green
Date: 7 Oct 92 15:43:12 GMT
Organization: UNIX International, Parsippany, NJ


Dear Rap,

As some of you know, I have of late been attempting to transcribe some of
my adventures during my visit to Joe Green.  There has been quite a delay
since my last entry and I do apologize, but I would get the most ornery
headaches whenever I put quill to parchment and I would have to stop
immediately.  Only recently, have I realized that these headaches are
caused by the Knight of Toronto rapping on the inside of my skull with his
lance.

For those of you who don't know, the Knight of Toronto is an aethereal
Agent of Satan who saunters forth from his home in Canada in order to
torment the spiritually weak.  When he feels more ambitious, he likes to
torment O'Tooles.

To continue, Sir Knight presumably became bored with this lance-thumping
and began whispering to me inside my head.  Besides the annoyance of trying
to listen to something that was echoing in my skull, I was also forced to
incorporate the content of his whispers, which were thus:

"Josef O'Toole is returning..."

You might instantly dismiss such rantings from a self-proclaimed enemy of
the O'Tooles, but I know something that complicates the situation further:
the Knight of Toronto, boring chap that he is, never tells a lie.  It's some
silly rule that Satan et al like to follow.


So, faced with this distressing half-news and not sure of the implications,
I must hurry and give a brief synopsis of the remaining events in my search
for Josef:

As I've said, I met the fellow once and he awoke us to involve us in
further adventures.  He dragged Kate and me around the world, going to such
exotic places as Thailand and one locale that may very well have been
Cambodia, not to mention Ireland--motherland to all O'Tooles.  Anyway, I
was terribly impressed at his exceeding capacity for travel and saw other
amazing feats, like 9 mo. of boot camp and the death of the Soul, etc etc
etc.  the irony being that when Kate and I did find ourselves with a portal
to the mortal (cf. peddle to the metal) and through which returned back
home, we learned that only two weeks later the hugest Mall in the world was
built on the very spot in which we had our adventures.

<whew> there's the adventure in a nutshell.


Oh, one more thing.  Josef suggested that Doug make out a will a.s.a.p.
So, Doug, I would like pockets 31, 30, 28, 21, 17(of course), 3 and pocket
#1 (but make it a moth).  Please consider this while writing up your last
W&T.


Yours,

Posthumous O'Toole, Official O'Toole Archivist
-- 
nobody/not even the rain/              	/	   /      /  /    
 /   /   /     /   /   / /     /       /    /    // /    /  /         /    
/     / / /   /   /     /   / /    / /   / / /  /  /   /      /      /
   / /   /   /	/	 / /      //    /   / /     / /      / / /
From: v131p9t3@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu (Ninstar Cybermage - Back Again from the Mists!)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: +==[====----ADA----====]==+
Date: 13 Oct 92 15:20:00 GMT
Organization: University at Buffalo
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41

ADA

I hate ADA
She makes me itch
She wraps her versatility around my practicality
And forces me to go her way
On the up and down slope of productivity
Till I rise to the occasion
And do everything that she wants me to
To force her to give me what I want.

Sitting in a lab
Typing messages to a dumb computer
ADA is there
Mocking me
With a smile on Mocking lips.


James Shank           	#		v131p9t3@ubvms.cc.buffalo.edu
AKA: Ninstar Cybermage  #	or	shank@acsu.buffalo.edu
###############################################################################
"Ten thousand years old...He could be trouble." -Vampire Hunter D
"Every night I say a prayer, in the hope that there's a heaven..."-Styx
"How do you make ammends for a god's sins?"-Forgotten Realms
##############################################################################
Sneaky Types,Inc.:Clandestine operations for the common man.
	"Don't call us.  We'll just bill you when it's done."
From: donz@ui.org (Posthumous O'Toole)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Shades of Green
Date: 8 Oct 92 17:39:52 GMT
Organization: UNIX International, Parsippany, NJ

In article <1992Oct8.160252.14417@wam.umd.edu> sheilah@wam.umd.edu (Sheila Herndon) writes:
)I'm jealous because everyone picks on you now and never me. I just
)try and try to get all the attention but darmit, you keep out-witting
)me. :p 
)
)laugh laugh laugh.
)I'm going to stick my hand in your mouth until someone picks on me.
)-- 
)I am always wrong. Don't believe me ever.
)stark raving sane  sheilah@wam.umd.edu

Haaaph!  Dexxn ahhmun mah maaaaaph!

Pafmiff Ah'Tll

-- 
nobody/not even the rain/              	/	   /      /  /    
 /   /   /     /   /   / /     /       /    /    // /    /  /         /    
/     / / /   /   /     /   / /    / /   / / /  /  /   /      /      /
   / /   /   /	/	 / /      //    /   / /     / /      / / / 
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: golden@ponder.csci.unt.edu (Timothy A. Goldenburg)
Subject: I am looking for a poem about time
Organization: University of North Texas
Date: Sun, 11 Oct 1992 19:13:56 GMT

I know that the poem is called Sun Dial or something like that and it goes
something like this :

Time (something about the past)
Time present; thou hast
    Employ thy portion small.
Time future is not and may never be.
Time (something) is the only time for thee.
 
- Ancient Sun Dial

Where the words in paratheses are the places in the poem that I do not know.

If you know the poem, could you please send it to me?  Thank you.

Tim

----
"Do you know the difference between an error and a mistake, Ensign?"
"Anyone can make an error, Ensign.  But that error doesn't become a
mistake until you refuse to correct it."
      - Grand Admiral Thrawn
-----------------------------------------------------------
golden@ponder.csci.unt.edu
From: zen@death.Corp.Sun.COM (d)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: "there isnt a single fucking day/that i dont sit here at work/and cry my goddamned heart out" are the first three lines
Date: 9 Oct 92 22:40:38 GMT
Organization: Sun Microsystems Inc., Mountain View, CA
NNTP-Posting-Host: death.corp.sun.com


depression is a tricky thing
it sneaks up on you slow
but before you know it
the lid is closed
the vacuum seals
the hiss of death the engines squeal
the pumping of the air
sucks the life out of your soul
glassy eyes vacant stare

im beating on the glass right now
two bloody fists keep trying to pound
and oh i know you dont hear a sound
but if you put your ear against
your terminal youd hear
my fucking tears splashing
on the phosphor screen
and between these letters youd see
tiny flat drops of my frozen screams

depression is a hatred
of yourself and your maker
my depression how i hate it
i keep typing trying to shake it

and there isnt a single fucking day
i dont sit and work and pray
when will it end
wish i could burn out my depression gun
and blow it all away
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: steele@aem.umn.edu (Stephanie Steele)
Subject: speaking of sex
Summary: speaking of sex
Keywords: speaking of sex
Organization: University of Minnesota
Date: Thu, 8 Oct 1992 16:32:07 GMT

don't feel badly
if you can't give your romance
that perfect celluloid
twist
-ask any hooker
she'll tell you she never dreams
of cinderella (marrying
the prince would still stink
of business)
closing your eyes tightly
when you kiss
doesn't make sex
more beautiful
it just makes it even harder
to see your partner
be glad you're not making love
to a movie star

none of the men    
have penises
and sexy women
are as blank
as sheets

sls











to a movie star    movies star
-none of the men
have penises
and sexy women
are as blank
as sheets.

sls
--

=======================================================================
			   Stephanie Steele
			steele@chip.aem.umn.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: sheilah@wam.umd.edu (Sheila Herndon)
Subject: Re: My Obsession! with TIME...
Organization: University of Maryland, College Park
Date: Tue, 13 Oct 1992 13:55:05 GMT

Time, change!
my obsession with on and off.
my desire to change time.


(no, it's not some changing of events. It's CHANGE TIME.  the time itself.
Time, Change Yourself!)

(although, "my desire to change time" does not match with an imperative to
time - Time, change yourself. Yourself.)

perhaps I'll end up writing a poem
-- 
I am always wrong. Don't believe me ever.
stark raving sane  sheilah@wam.umd.edu
From: earhard@ug.cs.dal.ca (Mark Earhard)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Music Lyrics
Date: 15 Oct 92 18:02:07 GMT
Distribution: na
Organization: Math, Stats & CS, Dalhousie University, Halifax, NS, Canada

I've written a few songs in the last little while, and I was wondering if this
would be the appropriate place to post 'em?

Marcus.
-- 
__
Mark Earhard -      earhard@ug.cs.dal.ca -       07marcus@ac.dal.ca
Reclaimer:  GIVE ME THAT BACK THIS INSTANT!      BRING THE NOISE!
From: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: leaving hamlin / Marie Coffin
Date: 13 Oct 92 01:11:49 GMT
Reply-To: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Organization: Iowa State University



	leaving hamlin
	------------------------------------------------------------
	
	he crossed the street
	in front of me
	a tan respectable man
	and i caught the cloud
	of warm brown pipe-smoke.
	i almost followed him
	into the trees
	walked that vapor-trail all night
	but the tilt of his back said
	he wanted to be alone.
	
	so i went home.
	but now i hold
	the story that always chilled me
	about how they took
	their laughter and their little brother
	and their box of jacks
	and followed after.


Marie Coffin
October 12, 1992
From: jjwright@gandalf.rutgers.edu (     Jay)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: x marks the spot
Date: 7 Oct 92 17:25:31 GMT
Organization: Rutgers Univ., New Brunswick, N.J.


I'm a pirate
on parade
I've got my treasure
lets serenade

I've got that beer in my hand
I've got one foot in the grave
I have a treasure map with
a lotta scribbles that i made

I'm a real mean pirate
with a map i like a lot
I'm lookin for my barstool
It's where X marks the spot.


----

jay
From: laposkymatth@bvc.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Poem - Art
Date: 13 Oct 92 10:44:12 CDT
Organization: Buena Vista College, Storm Lake, IA

  art
 cart
 car
  are
   red
 sure
 pure
 purr
 burr
 but
 cut
 rut
 nut
shut
 hat
 rat
 sat
 at
 mat
 match
 latch
 catch
 cat
scat
 cater
 later
 late
 date
 mate
 fate
 far
 fare
share
 bare
 care
 dare
 dark
 mark
 park
 lark
 lack
 back
 pack
 pick
 dick
trick
 rice
 ice
twice
 wick
 wink
 sink
 pink
 pine
 wine
 wife
 life
 live
 love
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jchien@leland.Stanford.EDU (Jennifer Crystal Fang-Chien)
Subject: Re: Criticism
Organization: The Land of Flowers (Stanford U.)
Date: Mon, 12 Oct 92 00:19:05 GMT



	Usually it is hard to get anyone to say much else than,
"I liked it" or "I didn't like it".  Therefore my frustration is
with not hearing much on how to improve the poem. (tho praise or
flames are still acceptable and valid).

	I have a bent on trying to write better, and without
feedback, it is hard.  As for those who say they "aren't good enough"
to criticize, think of things this way: criticize all you like, but
not all suggestions will be implemented, that is up to the writer's
discretion.

				some rambles,
				jennifer