HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: mbalak@epx.cis.umn.edu ()
Subject: Poem: untitled
Organization: University of Minnesota
Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1992 16:43:47 GMT



When the sun takes OP
ddd

whoops... let's try that again... :-)
------------

When the sun takes that fatal fall,
And Saturn appears to bear the pall,
The sky dons it's swarthy veil
To mourn a loved one, and bid farewell.

A mourning moon then appears
To wash the world with pale-blue tears.
And the sight of a song shone through a black cloak-
A billion brothers lament in quivering notes.

In the death of a day and its funeral of night
Many exist in Hallucination's delight.
Misty thoughts swirl as such,
And dissipate at a conscious touch.

In the death of a day and its funeral of night
Others exist under reality's light.
Bloodshot eyes search for their fate,
And lower lips quiver under solitude's weight.

And then the burning blood seeps forth-
Brightening sky about to give birth.
A newborn sun brings joy to the land!
Another mourning for the common man.

-----------

Comments welcome, criticism strongly urged! :-)

-Jason
(mbalak@epx.cis.umn.edu   OR   jase@pnet51.mn.org)

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: haight@sun.ipl.rpi.edu (Liz Haight)
Subject: how does the garden grow
Organization: Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy, NY
Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1992 08:42:56 GMT




-- 
------------------
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]
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Subject: walk with jesus and other desiderata / Marie+Marek
Reply-To: mcoffin@IASTATE.EDU (Marie Coffin)
Organization: Iowa State University
Date: Wed, 22 Jul 1992 21:59:48 GMT


		walk with jesus and other desiderata
		-------------------------------------------------------------

		she said, never date anyone
		who doesn't walk with jesus
		or who calls himself a christian
		but doesn't really have the holy spirit.
		
		to test a peach, press with your thumb
		and the fruit should give.
		the peach should be fragrant and colorful
		if it ripened on the tree.
		
		after climax, ejaculation, or "coming"
		the penis should be withdrawn slowly 
		from the vagina.  
		the top of the condom (rim)
		should be held firmly when withdrawing 
		to avoid spilling the semen.  
		
		the withdrawal should be done 
		as quickly as possible 
		after ejaculation so that
		the penis is still somewhat erect.  
		at this time, keep the penis well clear
		and away from the woman's body.
		
		remember--never reuse a condom.
		remember--wash the peach before eating.
		remember--jesus is the lord.
		
		
			Marie Coffin / Marek Lugowski
			22 July 1992
			Ames, Iowa / Cincinnati, Ohio
From: michaeln@cs.uq.oz.au (Bunweasel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Robert Loves Jenny
Date: 22 Jul 92 19:32:40 GMT
Reply-To: michaeln@cs.uq.oz.au
Organization: Department of Computer Science, The University of Queensland

Greetings, Mr Bob,
We really ought to take this conversation to E-mail, huh.

>>Today I slept on a chair. I also smelt a funny biscuity smell
>>as I was riding my bicycle. There's a tiny bubble in the glass
>>of this monitor and it always looks like a black circle (I'm
>>sure some clever physics person can tell me why). Or is it
>>a black circle and foolishly I thought it was a bubble?

>Do you like what appears to be a black circle?

Yes, by moving my head I can make it go left a character,
right a character, down half a line or up almost half a line
(but if I do that my chin types spaces and m's).

>Did you like the funny biscuity smell better?

Not really, it reminded me of a dreadful Sydney suburb with
a biscuit factory. There's an instant coffee factory a few
K's away from it, so if you're in the right position downwind
you get a stereoaromatic image of morning tea in the suburbs -
the time of the daily dose of valium and General Hospital.

Incidentally, London fogs occur early in the morning - a time
which corresponds suspiciously with the time so many Londoners
are boiling their kettles for tea.

>Which sensory perception do you favor most?

Which ever is the most distorted.

>bob.

-mike.

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jblackwe@av8r.uucp (John Blackwell)
Subject: poem
Organization: Daniel Webster College, Nashua, NH
Date: Tue, 21 Jul 1992 00:32:25 GMT


	I question you
	valid expression of
	love
	save the child
	destroy yourself
	with a grand display of defeat
	save  keep  choose
	it bothers me that you are so young
	innocence becomes ill with age
	but yours dies before its time
	before its time




-J A Blackwell
From: daq@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom)
Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1992 01:00:31 GMT
Subject: Re: pledges of allegiance / Marek+Marie
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems

In rec.arts.poems, marek@msel.unh.edu (Marek Lugowski) writes:

I liked this one guys.  I must say I am impressed with the
sexual restraint.

doug
From: michaeln@cs.uq.oz.au (Buweasel)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Which do you prefer?
Date: 23 Jul 92 14:59:53 GMT
Reply-To: michaeln@cs.uq.oz.au
Organization: Department of Computer Science, The University of Queensland

No fancy analysis. My vote's for number two.
"long, winding" is too close to a cliche
and unnecessary, as #2 demonstrates.

Also, rather than "but didn't.", I'd try maybe
"hesitated.". One is a logical statement, the other
has an extra emotional (volitional?) loading, 
even though the meaning is slightly different.

-m.

Xref: sparky rec.arts.poems:7627 talk.bizarre:22572
From: mathew@mantis.co.uk (mathew)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems,talk.bizarre
Subject: Video Poem
Summary: blah blah copyright blah blah blah
Date: 14 Jul 92 11:17:02 GMT
Organization: Mantis Consultants, Cambridge. UK.

Bored with TV
My uncle bought a video
And placed it in the living room.

Its flashing 12:00
             12:00
             12:00
Gave testimony to his inability
To get the times to move with him.

He bought a new remote control
To set the video for him
But he couldn't work out
How to insert the batteries.

Feeling discouraged
My uncle bought a microwave
Reasoning that even if the programmes were boring
At least he'd be able to eat them afterwards.

My uncle has a special remote control
To program the microwave for him
Now all he has to do
Is push a button marked "frozen pizza"
And remember to put in a tape
To record dinner while he is out.



mathew
-- 
Buddy, can you spare a paradigm?
From: rlwinter@carnitas.ucdavis.edu (Richard Lee Winterstein)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Haiku
Date: 23 Jul 92 16:12:34 GMT
Organization: College of Engineering - University of California - Davis

I would appreciate some suggestions (posted or e-mailed) on recommended
collections of haikus.  In the mean time, I would enjoy hearing what you
think of these...

Chase me up the shore;
I will chase you back again.
I can stay forever.

Foam dies at my feet
Each once dreamed of flying
Waves will never learn.

- - - - 

From far away, a dog?
From here, it is a fox!
Next to it, nothing.


And now a Haiku disclaimer:

Waiting for the words
I can not breathe poetry
Still I hold my pen.

Rick
From: U28947@uicvm.uic.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Looking for Constructive Criticisms
Date: 27 Jul 92 23:14:28 GMT
Organization: University of Illinois at Chicago

This is my first attempt at writing poems and I would like any constructive
criticism.  Feel free to post or e-mail me.



My mind is in a flurry of disarray,
My pulse quickens.
Perspiration and shortness of breath betray my nervousness.
I begin to dial your number,
My hand starts to tremble.
The thought of rejection is overwhelming and I hang up.

A sign of anxiety escapes me,
As a laugh leaves my throat.
I persuade myself into calling again, the symptoms persist.
One deep breath and a wipe to my brow,
I dial once more.
Your phone rings, but cowardice allows me to hang up again.

With a resounding sigh I reach for a cigarrette and light it.
A few minutes pass,
I am collected and once more I dial.
My excitability allows my finger to dial the wrong number,
And I realize my error.
With a silent curse I once again hang up.

Still collected and with more accuracy,
I dial your number.
I wait as the phone seems to ring...forever.
You answer and I melt within.
I hesitate to reply and you say 'hello' again.
My voice fails me. I fear for the worst as I hear a *CLICK*
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: colby@tsd.arlut.utexas.edu (Colby Leider)
Subject: Comments
Organization: Applied Research Laboratories, University of Texas at Austin
Distribution: usa
Date: Tue, 28 Jul 1992 22:39:10 GMT

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Distribution: usa



>thus endeth the dark existence
> relatively speaking the chasm
>of life
> endeth
>  thus
>   here
>
>is it bad
>to think
>to think about
>its depressing
> maddening
>  for sure

>once again yet it crosseth my brain
> in an eternal cycle of visual-receptor nerve self-exposure
>the tortuous beast cometh at night
> enrapped in thats all folks
>
>is it bad
>to hear
>to listen to
>its engrossing
> engulfing
>  for sure
>
>yet
> do i have a choice
>or
>whats up doc
>my mind blanks
>  stop the chasm from exposure
>    its ripping me open
>apart
>
>violently
>
>wherewith i speaketh i know not
>   or so i think
>
>then
>       i hear uncontrollable music
>
>
>
>
>colby leider
>colby@titan.tsd.arlut.utexas.edu


Comments?  Questions?  Feedback?

colby
colby@titan.tsd.arlut.utexas.edu

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: 78witherspoo@cuavax.dnet.cua.edu
Subject: Okay, so you're not a despot...
Organization: The Catholic University of America
Date: Tue, 21 Jul 1992 16:50:39 GMT

In article <7710524@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM>, daq@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom) writes:

> No no.  You missed the point entirely.  I was not making an
> ontological statement about ART in general.  I was merely stating
> that I do not consider one little section of the poetry world 
> to be particularly artistic.  My scope was much smaller than
> your judgement of my scope.

I know that.  I just get tired of people who can criticize others so callously
and without anything _constructive_ to say to them.
 
> I wrote an essay long ago that was quite long and was an
> attempt to allow for the maximum definition of art.  It was
> quite long.  I will repost it if asked.  If you really
> want to see it, I will mail it to you if you mail me and ask
> me to.

Yes, send me your file.  I am _always_ interested in other opinions.

Love and white flags weigh less than flamethrowers,

Tom W.(itherspoon)

78witherspoo@cuavax.dnet.cua.edu 
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: an26@sol.acs.unt.edu (Dave Roberts)
Subject: The Newborn
Organization: University of North Texas
Date: Thu, 30 Jul 1992 18:32:14 GMT


The Newborn
		by Dave Roberts

I read the paper yesterday morning,
and there was this man that killed
some people eating in a diner.

The neighbors all said it was surprising,
that he'd been a quiet man who didn't seem the type.

And I started thinking to myself
that I'd like to do that someday,
and have people tell the paper:

Yeah, that's him.  I figured he'd do
something like that.  He's just that way.

I think that'd be a good thing,
so that's what I'd like to do --
but then, wouldn't we all?

--
Comments, critiques, flames welcome.  Comments and critiques encouraged.

-- 
+----------------------------------------------------------------------+
| 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. |
+----------------------+-----------------------------------------------+
From: hornpete@uctvax.uct.ac.za (Peter Horn)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Invitation to my burial
Date: 24 Jul 92 15:14:56 GMT
Organization: University of Cape Town

INVITATION TO MY BURIAL
-----------------------

It is time, friends, to gather
with jokes and laughter and drinks
to celebrate the burial rites
of one who is about to depart:

My hair gets grey and my skin wrinkled,
I am waiting
for my grandsons and granddaughters
to be born:
wait with me and wear your most colourful clothes
and your gold earrings and your silver bracelets.
Wait with me and drink that dry Rhine Riesling
which I so loved while I lived
and lamb garnished with garlic
and the wonderful shrimps fried on coals
and pancakes with peaches in rum.
Wait with me and look at the glorious bodies
of naked girls as they dive into the swimming pool.
Wait with me as I write a last poem
on this our life which is the only one we have.

Later, I will
eat out of the ashes of the last fire
and walk into the mountains of thought
into the thicket of paradoxes
eating the poisonous flowers of madness.
Avoiding the ploughed lands and the paths
where others have trod
I will arrive in the desert
moving through dry thornbushes
in the arid riverbeds.

It is quiet around me,
the voices sound farther and farther away
and nature sleeps:
The sun of dissolution
burns down vertically from the sky
Everything is caught in a net of light.
Both halves of my brain
flame like dry wood,
until I throw myself into the black water
of a pool under an overhanging rock.

The water closes over me
with a slight ripple which dies down
after several minutes.
 
----------------------------------------------------------------------
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: Ralph.Cherubini@mdf.FidoNet.Org (Ralph Cherubini)
Sender: uucp@mdf.FidoNet.Org
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Poem--She would deny
Date: 20 Jul 92 20:24:56 EST

                             She would deny
 
 
She would deny
the thunderstorm building
her pride to claim that she drowned
in the desert.


 * Origin: Connect America #5, Austin, Tx, 512-459-3351 (1:382/10.0)
From: wjl@maxwell.physics.purdue.edu (William J. Lavery)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: HORRIFIC plight
Keywords: love, hate, indifferencei
Date: 28 Jul 92 19:24:08 GMT
Organization: Purdue University Physics Department


                    
            days swim into night
with eyes vindication filled
amicable tears that
fastidious wind blow the autunm
leaves through macbre forest 
of despair and melencolic desires 
lost in the roots of men and women
who make fertal land with 
souls which were led astray 
into the branches that circle
heads of maladjusted wingless 
beings of thought who 
search for the half eaten
fruit that created their 
            horrific plight.
                          -Iggy
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: alam@ucsu.Colorado.EDU (ALAM AFSHAN)
Subject: Heroes 'n' Roses
Summary: a passing gentleness,quickly passing
Keywords: heartbreak,gentleness
Organization: University of Colorado, Boulder
Date: Sun, 26 Jul 1992 00:20:31 GMT

My hero 

You have what it takes   
To break a heart.
Not the brute strength you know
Only a passing gentleness
Quickly passing.

A quick play of words then brings us to

A Dying Rose

You have what it takes
To pierce a heart.
Not those thorns you know
Only a passing loveliness
Passing quickly.


If this is too awful for words someone (not too many at once:-))
please tell me quickly so I can nip this in the bud though it may
be too late for that.

Afshan Alam.
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: francis@oas.stanford.edu (Francis Muir)
Subject: Folk poesy: Ramsay & Gay
Organization: Stanford Exploration Project
Date: Wed, 22 Jul 1992 17:35:44 GMT

As some of you may know, John Gay's ballad opera *The Beggar's Opera*, is
a tale woven around some sixty songs. The airs were generally well-known
to Gay's audience (London, ca 1720), but the words were almost always his
own. I have collected a few of the "other" words. and they make an 
interesting comparison with Gay's. One of the songs, "The Lass of Patie's
Mill", was by the minor Scottish poet Allan Ramsay, who some of you may
know from his rustic verse drama, *The Gentle Shepherd*. I'm sorry that
in neither case can I sing you the songg, suffice it to say that the melody
is gorgeous.

	The Lass of Patie's Mill
	So bonny, blyth and gay
	In spite of all my skill
	She stole my heart away.
	When tedding of the hay,
	Bareheaded on the green
	Love midst her locks did play
	And wanton'd in her e'en.

	Her arms white, round and smooth,
	Breasts rising in their dawn
	To age it would give youth
	To press 'em with his hand
	Thro' all my spirits run
	An extasy of bliss
	When I such sweetness found
	Wrapt in a balmy kiss.

	Oh! Had I all the wealth
	Hopeton's high mountains fill
	Insured long life and health
	And pleasure at my will
	I'd promise and fulfill
	That none but bonny she
	The Lass of Patie's Mill
	Should share the same with me.

So that was Allan Ramsay writing in behalf of his rustic swain. Here
is John Gay now with the words given to Lucy Lockett who has been
seduced by MacHeath into setting him free from the gaol that her father
keeps. 

	I like the fox shall grieve,
	Whose mate hath left her side,
	Whom hounds, from morn to eve,
	Chase o'er the country wide.
	Where can my lover hide?
	Where cheat the wary pack?
	If love be not his guide,
	He never will come back.

I find this much more affecting. Far removed from the conventional 
tone of Ramsay's text. How do you rec.arts.poets find this early
18th century folk verse?

						Fido
From: cecilw@access.isc-br.com (Cecil Williams)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Adventure
Keywords: "cunning linguist"
Date: 24 Jul 92 03:01:29 GMT
Organization: Toot-sweet


 root@bing.UUCP (Administrator) writes:
> (Barclay Blanchard) writes:
>> I like Japanese, French, Italian, Chinese,
>> Cuban, Thai, Indian, Greek, and Vietnamese food
>> and don't like Korean, Ethiopian, Mexican,
>                 ^^^^^^^
>As a full blooded Korean, I can tell you that Korean food is an
>acquired taste that requires a fair amount of acquiring.  But once
>acquired, it is hard to do without.
>> 
>> Barclay Blanchard
>Bing H Bang                              

Welll, I don't know;
I took to Seoul food right away. 
If you like tobasco and sauerkraut
you'll probably take to 
the kimchee(sp?) like a
giant panda to bamboo...  


Hey Bing, What's the name 
of that silly old song thats 
got your name in it? 
You know, the one that goes:

"Ooh, Eeh, Ooh Aah Aah,"
"bing, bang, walla walla bing bang"

As an interesting aside, 
my bigger than me little brother lives in 
Walla Walla (Wa.)



Thanks to RICHH for his recent inspiration of today's keywords.


Cecil
From: tburgess@us.oracle.com (Terri Servantes Burgess)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: rainy day poem
Date: 28 Jul 92 19:22:46 GMT





Masterpiece
-----------


Your body is the canvas upon which I draw

The morning dew provides my paint as it drips upon your flesh

Steamy pictures....lustful thoughts all begin to mesh

Swirled into a masterpiece you wear my pride and joy

Til comes the rain and washes it away

All is not lost for we are young and can play another day

Come deep inside for I have another game that we can play...


-tia
From: root@bing.UUCP (Administrator)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: help!
Date: 28 Jul 92 04:20:26 GMT
Organization: Bing's Rubber Chicken Factory -- "Our clucks are boneless."

My system crashed just today and fsck decided to eat some files including
my copy of "computer languages."  If you still have it on your reader,
I'd sure appreciate a emailed copy...

Thanks!
Bing

--
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
Subject: bLUDGEON (revised)
From: aakhan@wsuhub.uc.twsu.edu
Date: 20 Jul 92 22:46:07 CST
Organization: Wichita State University, Wichita, Ks


(its my first offering here)
(comments would be appreciated)
(please >>post<< the comments, critiques, suggestions) 
 
 bLUDGEON..(a love song)
 
 pale blue nicotine stains smear creaseless razor hard teeth hardened 
 solidified vaseline  dolls
 friction
 melt
 convenience
 wipe spills with plump red detachable silicon lips portable
 convenience
 inset mist pumps in detachable gleaming stained glass jaws
 spit sweet molten aphrodisiac
 wax
 scrub dead skin
 leave smooth pink hairless curved metal rectal input slots drain pure 
 undiluted
 adrenaline
 controled measured tireless exhaustive frenzy lasts and lasts and lasts not!
 withdrawl
 not required
 TIME! 
 no doted lines to sign
 skip the silver hammer beneath the velvet pillow if the promised quality was 
 delivered 
 NO?
 smash 
 the crystal skull
 the porcelein nipples
 the fiberglass belly
 the marble thighs
 release the poor smothered ashen lava-clay butterflies cracking trapped in the
 fragile 
 elaborate
 spidery webwork of a tapestry of nothing
 nothing at all
 but
 leave the unlit cigeratte in the glowing bored withdrawn stained glass jaw
 spurting billows of 
 opaque
 odorless
 transfixing
 transluscent
 nothing 
 nothing at all
 realistic hunh?
 backup memory cartridges rewinding?
 yet?
 HARD?
 yet?
 
 aN oFFERING oF lOVE
 fROM fLESH cHAMBER9
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
From: jondarr@macadam.mqcs.mq.oz.au (jondarr c g h 2 gibb)
Subject: The Keeper
Organization: Macquarie University, School of Mathematics, Physics, Computing and Electronics
Date: Tue, 28 Jul 1992 23:57:53 GMT


        The Keeper

With grace she walks the hallways of my mind
And checks each memory is sealed away
Within its place, each thought she leaves behind
Sinks to the floor to gather in the grey
Soft shadows lining doorways where the light
Will never enter. Lovingly she'll touch
Each keyhole for a breath of life that might
Surround a room of nightmare fears and such.

At last she takes her place, a desk, a chair,
To oversee the hallway, and she smiles,
Remembering each night that she's spent there
In contemplation staring at the tiles
That pave the walls; each one remains in place
But still she waits unless one of them breaks.
With patience showing on her tired, starched face
She cleans up after all of my mistakes.

As always, as I lay me down to sleep
I pray to her my soul she'll, loving, keep.


			28th July, 1992


C&C me&me
                    
              Anyway the wind blows ...
                                                //\         /\\
                             /                 || * \ . . / * ||
               .  _   _   _/  _   _  _          \\____\X/____//
              / /_/ / / /_/ /-/ /  /             / *  /O\  * \
          ._/                                    \__/  "  \__/

jondarr@macadam.mpce.mq.edu.au  (137.111.216.12)
jondarr@mpce.mq.edu.au
jondarr@mackay.mpce.mq.edu.au