From ht2@yabbs Thu Mar 24 16:22:02 1994 From: ht2@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Thu Mar 24 16:22:02 1994 first post From Charon@yabbs Sat Mar 26 15:37:41 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: HELLO!!!!! Date: Sat Mar 26 15:37:41 1994 This is Charon, i am sooooooo happy that there is a board for poetry!! I asked Htoaster to make one, and so he did.... i guess it is cool that i am the first to type on it... i have none of my poetry around now so my next message will be a poem.. i hope you all use this because i am sure it will be cool!!! later on all!! From Natalie@yabbs Sat Mar 26 16:07:28 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: i'm a postin' :) Date: Sat Mar 26 16:07:28 1994 SONNET 3 I plant vegetable matter in his soul, Roots sprout, anchoring him to the ground. Secretly I grin, for that was my goal: Keeping him with me, sweet words will abound. If you leave here, chaos will conquer me. I do not know my mind, you fill my thoughts, My need for you in enormous you see, An obsession I tried to beat, but I lost. Go on, diminich my accomplishments. I don't care, fo I gained what I wanted. You just don't understand that my mind is bent, Trying to escape me, things came to a head. When Spring comes, you will see yourself blossom, You'll be so much happier when you succumb. I'd appreciate comments. Rhymed iambic pentameter isn't my strong suit, and I'd appreciate some constructive criticism. :) (oops! a typo! fo = for) Natalie :) From Charon@yabbs Sat Mar 26 16:56:17 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: i'm a postin' :) Date: Sat Mar 26 16:56:17 1994 pretty cool Nat!!! what is iyt about? yipes <-... i will have to post some of my stuff on here... i was never good at following iambic pentameter.. so i can't find anything wrong wuith it!! i loved it!! *hug* *hug* ChArOn From Deaska@yabbs Sat Mar 26 21:45:16 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: i'm a postin' :) Date: Sat Mar 26 21:45:16 1994 Nat!!!!!!!! utterly kewl! Gotsome passion in there.. wonder if it's meant fer someone *grin* iambic pentameter.... hmmm *looking up websters* :) I just love that sense of cruelty in the tone...! Charon, this is a great idea!!! methinx I'll be a postin' too *hugs al'round* Deask' aaaaaaaroooooooooooooooooooooooooooo From Charon@yabbs Sun Mar 27 00:08:14 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Deaska@yabbs Subject: re: i'm a postin' :) Date: Sun Mar 27 00:08:14 1994 Do you like poetry also? if you do, you are one cool dude in my book!! i hope to read some stylin poems here and i promise to post some myself!!!!! so...... maybe tommarow night.. ChArOn From Deaska@yabbs Sun Mar 27 08:37:38 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: Poetry and creative Date: Sun Mar 27 08:37:38 1994 oh yeah.. I should plonk afew pieces on here by this week..., and I know that someone else *bump and a blink* would just love to do so too.. its gonna be kewl! Keep the spirit, Deask' *smile* From Skywise@yabbs Sun Mar 27 11:28:11 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The woods... Date: Sun Mar 27 11:28:11 1994 Skywise stands there with a grin A human dead, it was his whim. The trees do wait in numbers thin For sylvan folk to rule again. And if the human welp had kin... (Skywise draws a shining steel blade) "I've got some free time, SEND 'EM IN!" ================================== There is only one penalty for destroying my home. Choose wisely, HUMAN. From Skywise@yabbs Sun Mar 27 12:56:04 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: silly hooooomans Date: Sun Mar 27 12:56:04 1994 A man once loved the chieftain's daughter He watched her bathe beside the water, But child of man could not have bought her And she disdained the gold he brought her. "One more human welp to slaughter, One more waster for the fodder..." From Natalie@yabbs Sun Mar 27 17:53:25 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: yet another one Date: Sun Mar 27 17:53:25 1994 CHRISTIANITY "Jesus said, 'Men think, perhaps, that it is peace which I have come to cast upon the world. They do not know that it is dissension which I have come to cast upon the earth: fire, sword, and war.'" The Gospel of Thomas, Saying 16 One man has had more effect on humanity than any other (not Charlemagne not Henry not Shakespeare but Jesus Christ). Sing the praises of a simple carpenter a common criminal One called King of the Jews (but he wasn't), as he was crucified (he rose from the dead). Wars were fought (those heathen infidels) in His Name (the Father). Heretics were burned (witches and women too) in His Name (the Son). Intolerance was tolerated (encouraged) in His Name (the Holy Ghost). Opportunists exploit the believers fancy houses (gold bathroom fixtures), fancy women (expensive whores), fancy surgery (more perfect than you). Then they beg our forgiveness and like the sheep we are (we believe we're sinners) We forgive and give more (after all, they're only human not divine). Have fun kiddies! BTW, that's supposed to be one line there (darned ASCII). Natalie *insane giggle* *grin* From issachar@yabbs Sun Mar 27 21:02:48 1994 From: issachar@yabbs To: skywise@yabbs Subject: re Date: Sun Mar 27 21:02:48 1994 it has been to my experiences that poetry that which tries to force a certain claim on the reader rarely becomes noteworthy. although the romantic poets like blake, wordsworth, and coleridge certainly celebrated nature unlike any other poets in the english language. they didn't, of course, assert the value of nature in their poetry straightforwardly, you, as reader get the sublime feelings that they held towards the earth. From issachar@yabbs Sun Mar 27 21:05:03 1994 From: issachar@yabbs To: natalie@yabbs Subject: re Date: Sun Mar 27 21:05:03 1994 good stuff i like how jesus is called king of the jews, while it was the jews who ordered him crucified because of his criticism of the jewish church strange, eh? ;) From Trane@yabbs Sun Mar 27 22:20:34 1994 From: Trane@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: another christ poem Date: Sun Mar 27 22:20:34 1994 Tell me tell me fisherman What you have to offer me Is it fruit of infrared or planets only I can see? By swallowing the flesh of God Will I see the face of Hate Or will I hear sweet sentences crushing me beneath their weight? So now he's falling down So now he's crying out So now he sees just what the revolution's all about So now he sees his mom So now he sees his dad So now he sees the hammer swing...it hurts so fucking bad So now he hears the chords The feedback in his head So now he hangs from a two by four The carpenter is dead. Tell me tell me fisherman What you have to offer me Is it life or is it death or is it unreality? By swallowing the blood of God Will I see the face of hate Or will I feel the emptiness of my everlasting wait? This is a song I wrote after reading a book by Terrence McKenna... he talks about psilocybin mushrooms being a sort of psychedelic communion...and I wrote about that concept being reconciled with my Christian upbringing and the Communion I knew from childhood. Trane From topi@yabbs Mon Mar 28 00:15:41 1994 From: topi@yabbs To: Trane@yabbs Subject: re: another christ poem Date: Mon Mar 28 00:15:41 1994 Bravo! I liked that. :) From Skywise@yabbs Mon Mar 28 02:05:26 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: issachar@yabbs Subject: re: re Date: Mon Mar 28 02:05:26 1994 Feel my wrath, human. Who said I wanted to become "noteworthy?" Noteworthy to humans is destruction to sylvan folk. From Natalie@yabbs Mon Mar 28 02:16:57 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Trane@yabbs Subject: re: another christ poem Date: Mon Mar 28 02:16:57 1994 Trane: I like this a lot. Gave me chills. Not much poetry does that to me. Bravo! (and, just for the hell of it....*poke*) *grin* Natalie From Natalie@yabbs Mon Mar 28 02:19:23 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: The woods... Date: Mon Mar 28 02:19:23 1994 I like. Rhyming is good. I like rhyme. I wish I was better at it. I also like the lyric style. And your subject. Natalie :) From issachar@yabbs Mon Mar 28 16:59:34 1994 From: issachar@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: re Date: Mon Mar 28 16:59:34 1994 excuse me. can't take criticism very well now can we? if you are a 'sylvan fellow' go back to school and learn something that will impress me. From Skywise@yabbs Tue Mar 29 02:06:44 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: issachar@yabbs Subject: re: re Date: Tue Mar 29 02:06:44 1994 You'll have to get a little more creative than that if you want to keep posting on this base. PLEASE note the name. Thank you you wiper of other peoples bottoms. Go jump in the violet-indigo that is nothingness. From Faith@yabbs Tue Mar 29 02:31:13 1994 From: Faith@yabbs To: skywise@yabbs Subject: Date: Tue Mar 29 02:31:13 1994 violet indigo nothingness? Hmmmmm.... How profound. hee hee ;) From Skywise@yabbs Tue Mar 29 10:17:05 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Ashes... Date: Tue Mar 29 10:17:05 1994 Through sylvan ruins he wandered His soul was walking low; Through woods his enemy squandered At who he raised his bow. 'Twas two days from the battle And heavy was his heart. He shot through them like cattle The trees from them to part. They left his world in ashes His wolf-friends they did kill. But valued were the lashes, For human blood did spill. From Nickolai@yabbs Tue Mar 29 15:47:56 1994 From: Nickolai@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: For your enjoyment Date: Tue Mar 29 15:47:56 1994 Quite so, I thought... Unless, No that can't be it. I know better than that, Everything I believe lays on it. Tomorrow, perhaps, I can remember. From Charon@yabbs Tue Mar 29 18:41:17 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: LOOKY here! Date: Tue Mar 29 18:41:17 1994 On a moonless night, when the sky is dark, the birds will sing the songs of the harp. On a starry night, when the moon shines bright, the bats and owls prepare for flight.... All of this, in Widow's Night All of this, in Widow's Night.. When the wind's fierce gust blows across the land, and a snowflake falls in a young boy's hand, the bats and owls have flown away the snow will rule on this very day. In Widow's Night, "Hooray Hooray!!" In Widow's Night, "Hooray Hooray!!" When the leaves are green, and the flower's song, Echos, Echos across the land everlong. Look here boy, and tell me of your plea... And look there boy, and tell me what you see... For at Widow's Night, we all run free For at Widow's Night, we all run free.... --------- | ChArOn | --------- From Hellion@yabbs Tue Mar 29 19:29:42 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: a question Date: Tue Mar 29 19:29:42 1994 I really love all of the poetry around here, but the question is... do any of you think it would be a good idea to get an ftp site set up for the poems and stuff? I find it difficult to get any of this stuff without sitting down and writing it all. Well let me know what you think... -- Hellion From jujubee@yabbs Wed Mar 30 07:22:22 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Hellion@yabbs Subject: re: a question Date: Wed Mar 30 07:22:22 1994 it seems to me that i am inspired at strange moments...i do not think i could ever just sit right down at the computer and type creatively or inspirationally...perhaps work here has been done at previous times...some of it is quite lovely, actually....personally, anything i've ever written is never read by anyone...sometimes i don't even look at it again... From Nickolai@yabbs Wed Mar 30 14:00:18 1994 From: Nickolai@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Haiku Date: Wed Mar 30 14:00:18 1994 The darkness descends. A brook beside a dead tree. Silently I cry. From Cat@yabbs Wed Mar 30 14:24:15 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Nickolai@yabbs Subject: re: Haiku Date: Wed Mar 30 14:24:15 1994 That's really good Nickolai. I love haikus. :) I wrote one my self: A little brown mouse Smells cheese and steps in a trap Snap! Now he is dead. I also wrote a limerick: There once was a silly old chump Who really *really* liked to bunjee jump He thought it was stupendous fun Until the darn cord came un....... :) -Cat From Natalie@yabbs Wed Mar 30 15:17:44 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: This is a long one Date: Wed Mar 30 15:17:44 1994 OCTOBER 31, 1991--6:28 A.M. "Wake up! Wake up!" "Huh? Go away, I've got two minutes." "Something's wrong with Mum, the paramedics are here!" I sit up and reach for my glasses, all the while rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "What are you talking about? Maybe she's just sick." We wait in my room, hte blue room, I notice all the books and papers on the floor. The digital clock silently ticks away the minutes. My father enters, grief on his face. "Girls, your mother...your mother died sometime last night." I'm numb, I have no feeling, it's been shut off. We're told we don't have to go to school, but I know what will happen (relatives trying to make me feel better), so I go anyway. Everyone says they're sorry, such a stupid thing to do, what did they do? Nothing. It's my mother who should be apologizing. Just the night before I remember her alive at my choir concert. She was laughing and talking with her friends and my friends and their moms and just everyone. She had a good time. She said so, just before she went to bed and after she told me that she loved me. For the last time. No one expected her to die, she was only forty-eight. But she did. The first viewing was Saturday two days later. The family was there , supporting us, me and my sister. We walk in. The casket's on the other side of the room. With trepidation I approach and my numbness disappears, replaced by anger and betrayal and mostly sorrow. My mother is in the box, cold dead gone. It doesn't even look like her. She didn't do her hair like that, combed sttraight back like a pro coach, maybe Ditka or Riley. And the expression on her face wasn't hers, it was George Washington with his wooden teeth. I break down. I begin to accept. I live again. She would've wanted it that way. One year, ten months, and fifteen days. I'm still haunted. The memories won't fade. I turn around, expecting to see her, expecting to hear her voice, full of humor with it's thick Boston accent. I can't even remember it. I look in her purse. I find the concert program. Now I can tell her. I love you, Mum. Natalie From Natalie@yabbs Wed Mar 30 15:19:39 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: and now, a short one Date: Wed Mar 30 15:19:39 1994 The stars shine in the sky Brilliantly. Their cold light raising gossebumps on my skin But I like it, The feel of the cold air, The wind reifling through my hair. I lose myself In memories. Natalie From Hellion@yabbs Wed Mar 30 16:36:07 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: This is a long one Date: Wed Mar 30 16:36:07 1994 I must say that was very nice. It made me want to cry cuz I know what it is like to lose someone so close... From Cat@yabbs Wed Mar 30 17:38:06 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: This is a long one Date: Wed Mar 30 17:38:06 1994 That was...oh words can't put it quite right. That was powerful Nat. I always say that the trouble with modenr writing is that people don't write about things that are really moving and true anymore. That was such a good poem. Thatnks for posting it. *hugs* -tammie From Destiny@yabbs Wed Mar 30 19:39:23 1994 From: Destiny@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: ... Date: Wed Mar 30 19:39:23 1994 That's beautiful... -Dest' From Nickolai@yabbs Wed Mar 30 21:21:02 1994 From: Nickolai@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: ... Date: Wed Mar 30 21:21:02 1994 hmmm....*hug* From Nickolai@yabbs Wed Mar 30 22:07:06 1994 From: Nickolai@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: haiku Date: Wed Mar 30 22:07:06 1994 a single dead rose. laying on a marble grave. a life, forgotten. From Page@yabbs Thu Mar 31 04:21:28 1994 From: Page@yabbs To: issachar@yabbs Subject: re: re Date: Thu Mar 31 04:21:28 1994 strange but there is no solid proof nor can one believe that a human is god From Skywise@yabbs Thu Mar 31 09:02:43 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: stuph Date: Thu Mar 31 09:02:43 1994 Poetry, therefore, we will call musical Thought. -- Carlyle ...speech framed...to be heard for its own sake and interest even over and above its interest of meaning. -- Gerrard Hopkins ...the rhythmic, innevitably narrative, movement from an overclothed blindness to a naked vision. -- Dylan Thomas ...the presentment, in musical form, to the imagination, of noble grounds for the noble emotions. -- Ruskin If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold that no fire can ever can ever warm me, I know that it is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that it is poetry. -- Emily Dickinson =================================================================== Thanks for the poetry. From SPARKLER@yabbs Thu Mar 31 15:07:15 1994 From: SPARKLER@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Fantasy Date: Thu Mar 31 15:07:15 1994 This is one of my favourite poems ..... FANTASY A silver dream, of things gone right Gleems golden in the moon's pale light Of souls untouched and hearts of gold, Of wishes unheard and dreams untold. Hope you guys like it too.... My Love Always ..... SPARKLER From Hellion@yabbs Thu Mar 31 15:18:31 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: SPARKLER@yabbs Subject: re: Fantasy Date: Thu Mar 31 15:18:31 1994 Definatly *smile* - Hellion From Destiny@yabbs Thu Mar 31 15:35:38 1994 From: Destiny@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: JAVAN Date: Thu Mar 31 15:35:38 1994 This is just a poem from one of y favorite poets, Javan... I woke early this morning To the silent sounds of raindrops carressing the window I pulled the curtain to greet the morning But a fog covered the window Without thinking I took my finger And wrote your name in the moisture Now, it was time to prepare to face another day For some reason, jsut before leaving I returned to the bedroom To look once more at your name But it too was gone -Javan From Destiny@yabbs Thu Mar 31 15:38:52 1994 From: Destiny@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Javan...again Date: Thu Mar 31 15:38:52 1994 This one is a little more uplifting than the last...I figured if I bring you down, I should lift you back up aghain *smile* Lord, Please quick, Give me a line, or something to say That might start to explain The storm raging inside me since she walked in the room Just one line that will let her know The feelings deep in my heart Lord - Please try hard And do better this time For the last one wasn't impressed With "Hi Babe, what's cooking?" -Javan From issachar@yabbs Thu Mar 31 17:07:10 1994 From: issachar@yabbs To: natalie@yabbs Subject: re:that big poem that was s Date: Thu Mar 31 17:07:10 1994 reallly, i have to agree w/ cat. being that it seems like parents just don't get the kind of love and respect they so rightfully deserve anymore, you have done something really great in that poem. people call you a mam's mama, oops, boy if you're real close to your parents, or that there is something wrong with you if you think so highly of your parents, in this day and age where everyone likes to point out their parent's faults. i think parents are, and should be percieved as, your best friends, (at least until you get married). i have the best relationship w/ my folks so that poem goes right to the heart. bravissimo... From issachar@yabbs Thu Mar 31 17:08:41 1994 From: issachar@yabbs To: Page@yabbs Subject: re: re Date: Thu Mar 31 17:08:41 1994 well, i was addressing those in the christian tradition who recognize jesus as the son of god. no offense meant to anyone, i swear. From issachar@yabbs Thu Mar 31 17:13:19 1994 From: issachar@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: stuph Date: Thu Mar 31 17:13:19 1994 poetry the spontanious recollection of experiences past. --william wordsworth "that of knight-errantry," said don quixote, "which is as good as poetry, and even an inch or two above it." --cervantes "one law for th ox and lion is oppression." --william blake From maedhros@yabbs Fri Apr 1 02:28:43 1994 From: maedhros@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Boomers Date: Fri Apr 1 02:28:43 1994 Twenty years ago, on a planet much like our own, a great mass of people came of age. They looked about themselves and said, "We have a dream. We dream of a world where there is no war, no famine, and no hate. A world where every human is our brother and sister. A world where everyone can realize their potential. A world where there is truly Heaven on Earth." And suddenly they knew it was possible, and further, they new how to make it happen. So it came to pass that the Children of Utopia climbed the Great Mountain. And on the Mountain they erected a great temple of both wondrous light and Angelic music. They looked about and they were pleased with their creation. And the Children said let us name our creation Woodstock. Then the Children revelled on their Mountain. They smoked, they drank, they dosed, they screwed, and they vomited. Many days and many nights passed, although none of the Children could quite remember how many. But behold, when they awakened dazed, hungover, and deaf, they were perplexed. Aside from being in dire need of a shower, a toothbrush and a venereal check-up, nothing had changed. Mysteriously, the world had carried on in their absence. Their drug-hazed pleas for justice went unheard. The police still beat hippies and upstart tree-huggers, the Pentagon was still having a riotously wonderful time defoliating Vietnam, and their parents still thought they were wierd. Disgruntled, bitter and disillusioned, the Children began disbanding from their Mountain. Two groups left the shrine that day. The smaller group spoke thus; "Maaan, there is just waaay to many negative vibes in this reality. What we need to do maaan, is go back to nature maaan. You know maaan, like, live in the woods maaan. We can eat nuts and berries maaan, like the indians maaan. And go naked maaan, you dig?" And the people smiled, although noone is sure if it was because of what he said or if it was because a cloud to his immediate right had suddenly turned plaid and started whistling Kumbaya. Nevertheless, they followed him. The larger group awoke, and one of them said, "Oh well, we gave it our best shot. Shit, my dad's going to kill me. I've got mid-terms next week." And so the larger group ran from the Shrine of Peace, with all their dreams of love and joy left behind along with 200,000 unrecyclable plastic beer cups. Filled with bitterness, the Children sold their VWs for minivans, their love beads for beepers, their beliefs for the 'burbs and their souls for success. And so the Sacred Hill was forgotten. Maedhros /\ /--\ / \ Don't ask me what the hell the point of this was. I created it and it's writing. This is a creative writing section. So, well, there it is. If it makes you laugh, pisses you off or makes you think, then it's surved its purpose. Adios From Deaska@yabbs Fri Apr 1 08:41:02 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: jus a small one Date: Fri Apr 1 08:41:02 1994 Only one word, as harmless it would seem, could hurt more than,, a horrible sting. Why can't we learn to live in peace, for I do always yearn, for that warm release. We need no wars, between father and son, despite the manhood lore, its just not fun. Keep the spirit, Deask' *lil' smile* ps. end the conflict, its just not worth it From jujubee@yabbs Fri Apr 1 08:54:31 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: untitled Date: Fri Apr 1 08:54:31 1994 my mother committed suicide when i was three left me alone. . . and i've been alone ever since From jujubee@yabbs Fri Apr 1 09:10:56 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Fri Apr 1 09:10:56 1994 don't be alarmed, ppl--it's only a poem! *jujubee* From Cat@yabbs Fri Apr 1 09:27:59 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Fri Apr 1 09:27:59 1994 In message , jujubee said: > don't be alarmed, ppl--it's only a poem! > :) That was cool juju! I liked how you posted it and didn't throw in the don't be alarmed post afterwards. Quite a nice dramatic touch. :) :applauds and throws roses at juju *hugs* -tammie From Cat@yabbs Fri Apr 1 09:31:51 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Fri Apr 1 09:31:51 1994 In message re: , Cat said: > don't be alarmed post afterwards. Quite a nice dramatic touch. :) Throw the word "until" in between "post" and "afterwards". :0 Sorry for the confusion. Silly Cat. :) From jujubee@yabbs Fri Apr 1 09:39:12 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: thanx Date: Fri Apr 1 09:39:12 1994 thanx, Cat...that was my stab at poetry...short, but packed w/meaning jujubee From Xela@yabbs Fri Apr 1 13:49:54 1994 From: Xela@yabbs To: maedhros@yabbs Subject: re: Boomers Date: Fri Apr 1 13:49:54 1994 Oh man I nearly fell out of my chair I was laughing so hard.... excuse me while I wipe the tears from my eyes... hehehe -Alex From Destiny@yabbs Fri Apr 1 15:11:55 1994 From: Destiny@yabbs To: Deaska@yabbs Subject: poem Date: Fri Apr 1 15:11:55 1994 *blink* -Dest' From Destiny@yabbs Fri Apr 1 15:15:35 1994 From: Destiny@yabbs To: maedhros@yabbs Subject: re: Boomers Date: Fri Apr 1 15:15:35 1994 I like it :) -Dest' From Deaska@yabbs Fri Apr 1 20:14:18 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: maedhros@yabbs Subject: re: Boomers Date: Fri Apr 1 20:14:18 1994 oh maaaaan, that was like, kewl :) D'sta :) From laelth@yabbs Sat Apr 2 03:37:39 1994 From: laelth@yabbs To: Deaska@yabbs Subject: re: jus a small one Date: Sat Apr 2 03:37:39 1994 It hurts me to repeat this, but it seems relevant. A teacher, one that I respect, once told me: "There can be no peace, so long as there is injustice." From laelth@yabbs Sat Apr 2 03:42:07 1994 From: laelth@yabbs To: maedhros@yabbs Subject: re: Boomers Date: Sat Apr 2 03:42:07 1994 Very nice, Maedhros. I couldn't agree more. However, in defense of those BMW driving suburbanites, a few of them went to graduate school and became college professors, and though they didn't quite "practice" the Woodstock ideals, they passed them on to their students. I know, I've taken a few of their classes. -laelth From BlueMax@yabbs Sat Apr 2 08:18:18 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: ... Date: Sat Apr 2 08:18:18 1994 Perfect, Like a crystal ball, Refelecting strange but true images... Like a rose on the vine, Beutiful but thorned... Like the sun, Warm but so far away... 8Dec92 'Drew... From rick@yabbs Sun Apr 3 03:01:37 1994 From: rick@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: out look Date: Sun Apr 3 03:01:37 1994 I've seen the beginning of one life and the end of another. I believe we should be able to change the way we go to the spirit world.... If i can not go the way of the warrior then the spirit world has no place for me... Sickness shall not take me untill I remove some of the sickness in this life... to all who oppose me I say face me as a man should and we shall part as brothers.... all comments welcome thank you From jujubee@yabbs Sun Apr 3 11:23:29 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: rick@yabbs Subject: re: out look Date: Sun Apr 3 11:23:29 1994 hmmm...well, i'd like to leave peacefully if i had my choice... From ac|dc@yabbs Sun Apr 3 22:17:09 1994 From: ac|dc@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Sun Apr 3 22:17:09 1994 hhmm..creative writing is cool...I like to write stuff sometimes. Maybe I should post some of it here...well, I guess I'l start with a small liitle rhyme I made up using songs from U2...all songs are in CAPS.. Whenever I see here I wanna shout and sing, 'cause she's EVEN BETTER THAN THE REAL THING. Given up all thinking and contemplation 'cause my head's like a ZOO STATION ULTRAVIOLET LIGHT MY WAY to your kindness yes it's true that LOVE IS BLINDNESS Let me in, can't you see my DESIRE? It burns in me like THE UNFORGETTABLE FIRE You know you're the ONE, but you left me to play the fool. Your MYSTERIOUS WAYS are oh so cruel Now I'm feeling blue and lame You left me where THE STREETS HAVE NO NAME Now I must go knocking from door to door 'cause I STILL HAVEN'T FOUND WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR When you're TRYIN' TO THROW YOUR ARMS AROUND THE WORLD sometimes push comes to shove So maybe I'll just give up my PRIDE(IN THE NAME OF LOVE)... %YOU SAID NO BEFORE, THEN YOU SAID MAYBE %BUT YOU'LL GIVE A DEFINITE YES %WITH ONE LISTEN TO ACHTUNG BABY.... well, there it is. Crude, yes I know. but I wrote in a couple of hours. anyway, let me know what you think. If you all like it, I'll post more. If not, well, I'll keep it for myself.......AC/DC From Charon@yabbs Sun Apr 3 23:47:21 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: ferryman Date: Sun Apr 3 23:47:21 1994 on a dark summmer night, when he came to my room.. he brought news of hate, he brought news of doom... as his bony white hand, drew the light from my haven like the evrlasting dove, sucked away by a raven.. he spoke to me in a hypnotic voice i followed his words, i really had no choice. "come closer my boy.. come closer and see.... i mean not to hurt you" he spoke unto me... "i have come for your body.. i have come for your tears... take my hand little boy.. disregard all your fears.." As he spoke on to me, of wants and desires, i found myself reaching, for the king of alll liars. "take my hand you fool! come ride the wind on my back, and the blackness of night, i ahve the soul that you lack!" as i listened to his call, as i was drawn to his might, i let him do the hearing, for he took all my sight. "i will love you my boy, take a ride on the ship, across this small river, with a kiss on the lip. a small price to pay, for theses wonders i give, for who needs a soul, you do not need to live..." as i sat and i wondered, what secrets lay on the shore, of the opposite bank, inside the unknown door.. "i know what you think, you fear the unknown... but i am with you... and i NEVER sail alone.... as i got on the boat, i heard a whisper in my head... i recall it all now.... "too bad you're dead"........ FERRYMAN -Charon- From rick@yabbs Mon Apr 4 00:19:20 1994 From: rick@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: ferryman Date: Mon Apr 4 00:19:20 1994 long live charon!!!!!! From Destiny@yabbs Mon Apr 4 08:52:51 1994 From: Destiny@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: ferryman Date: Mon Apr 4 08:52:51 1994 ohhhhhhhh....I-like- it :) -Dest' From ac|dc@yabbs Mon Apr 4 09:05:00 1994 From: ac|dc@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: ferryman Date: Mon Apr 4 09:05:00 1994 WOW....that was unbelieveable.....really awesome....... From Cat@yabbs Mon Apr 4 09:52:41 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: ferryman Date: Mon Apr 4 09:52:41 1994 I liked that one an awful lot Charon, best one I've read by you so far I think. The last stanza was the real kicker. I love poems that have endings like that-they surprise you and really make you think. :) Kudos to Charon. :) :stands up, applauds and throws more roses -TammieCat From Charon@yabbs Tue Apr 5 00:11:14 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Tue Apr 5 00:11:14 1994 YOU --- I can't believe you let me, every day of evry year you led me astray, and held me hand, through all the smiles and all the tears I trusted you to guide my path now i'm left alone to feel your wrath In a spot of secret and a flock of lies my body sits, under starry skies down in the catacomb, and a step to the right, for this is the place, where i ended my flight... How could you do it? when it was meant to be, You took just two.. and split them in three. Oh..the grey inside, and blackness of soul where my body's a puppet, and my eyes black as coal Why did You? when i trusted the serpent, and danced with the Prince, when you left me like that, I haven't been the same since..... -Charon- From Deaska@yabbs Tue Apr 5 00:50:41 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: ... Date: Tue Apr 5 00:50:41 1994 ohmigod... Charon, that is wild, totally unleashed stuff... love it!!! are you published? god, you should be! Rich *still speechless* From Lacey@yabbs Tue Apr 5 00:55:34 1994 From: Lacey@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Life and... Date: Tue Apr 5 00:55:34 1994 Close your eyes and imagine life. Close your eyes and think of what it could be like. Close your eyes and wonder what the future holds. Close your eyes and think of life and... Dream of what was and what could be. Dream of the things that you've never known. Dream of what the future might hold. Dream of life and... There is no way to justify not living. There is no way to forget. There is no way to not go on. There is no way out of life and... Remeber those who have lived for you. Remember those who have cared. Remember those who have loved you forever. Remember they were there. We can't bring you back and we can't forget. We can only remember. We think of what life has to offer and though it may not be the best, We think of life and... Lacey This is a poem written to a sixteen year old boy who committed suicide because he didn't think much of life. From BlueMax@yabbs Tue Apr 5 01:02:03 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: ... Date: Tue Apr 5 01:02:03 1994 Beautiful.... Your name is a song that stirs my heat to flame, Your face is the rising sun blessing spring flowers with it's strong rays, Your Skin is a smooth winter lake warmed by unseen currents, refelecting the light of a full moon, Your eyes are a mystery, great in depth, alwase roveing, beautiful... 'drew... 8dec92 From Ralphie@yabbs Tue Apr 5 03:52:17 1994 From: Ralphie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Sunset Date: Tue Apr 5 03:52:17 1994 The clouds are dark now but they were so red. The color of a lover alone. Not a blood red or rose, But a blush wine shared by two. The mountains are dark now but they were so high. Reaching into the sky for another. Like a lost man reaching for his lover, And yet they stand alone. The sky is dark now but is was so blue. The color of calm and security I feel when I'm in your arms. A bold blue which shows the strength and caring, Which only you can give. And yet, while all is dark when night falls, I long to be with you. Sharing even the darkness, makes my life bright again, As long as I share it with you. Sunset, Summer 1993 at Philmont Scout Ranch. line two should be love not lover but it still works. From Deaska@yabbs Tue Apr 5 11:39:34 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Email mailing list Date: Tue Apr 5 11:39:34 1994 Hiya all, tis me :) for all those writers and poets out there, I invite to join the bestest, non chat like, no nonsense international writers email list, WRITERS-L . This listserver was created late last year from a small gathering of writers on the IRC EFnet #writers. Since then, It has grown almost to 100 subscribers around the world. We like to see that increase as much as we can. You are most welcome to post your work on the list, and definitely, if you can contribute some healthy and often desperately sought criticism, please do. The subscribership is open fer all forms of writing, whether it be poetry, prose fiction, if its writing, its okay :) Writers, aspiring writers, and all those interested are most welcome! To subscribe, email to : listserver@swin.edu.au and in the body of your message, include : subscribe writers-l No subject, or any other text in your message is needed. (listserver does everything necessary) can be a nickname, a handle, or your real name, it must be filled. Note: Upon confirmation of your subscription, it would be appreciated if you mail to: writers-l@swin.edu.au and introduce yourself to the rest of the list, i.e. what you write, or like etc... more information? just email me, or drop me a note here :) Writers-L Admin Rich "Deaska" Wallner - inet: rwallner@union3.su.swin.edu.au deaska@GPO.swin.edu.au voice: +613 523 5438 "Writers-L is an international email mailing list for writers to discuss related topics, and critique finished, or unfinished works..." listserver@edna.cc.swin.edu.au -- subcribe writers-l writers-l@edna.cc.swin.edu.au -- writers group distribution From Destiny@yabbs Tue Apr 5 14:59:35 1994 From: Destiny@yabbs To: Deaska@yabbs Subject: hmm... Date: Tue Apr 5 14:59:35 1994 Free advertising???? *nudge* -Dest' From jujubee@yabbs Tue Apr 5 17:58:07 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue Apr 5 17:58:07 1994 i like that one.... From Deaska@yabbs Wed Apr 6 07:49:21 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: Destiny@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Apr 6 07:49:21 1994 *hug* yup :) there's some great artists on here... Deask' *squeezin' ya Dest* From Phain@yabbs Wed Apr 6 08:27:44 1994 From: Phain@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Apr 6 08:27:44 1994 A sullen place Barren Aged with careless time careless thought. A wasteland of thought where idea is the only fabric rent And overflowal is a sudden end A quick escape A door. and i ? i am simply me. A number here a statistic a random blur of ones and zeros etched across the pathways of light and time across the iris of my counterparts in this maze of text a brief interlude to be read, skimmed or skipped at the touch of a key. All is random here At the crossroads. All is synthetic in these halls of loss and number. My eyes laden with cares of old, i reach out and imagine. 011010001011110101000101000101010000101011110101000101 - Phain From aztec260@yabbs Wed Apr 6 10:08:38 1994 From: aztec260@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: ra Date: Wed Apr 6 10:08:38 1994 Razor Angels Shapes move outside in the crowd. There is aways a crowd I get dressed shave and wash, and I'm out, moving in and out of the flesh. the meat that is aways moving. no one ever stops moving, Makes an easy target. Dim lights and brite neon flare out from both sides. Same shit always, never changes, moving all the time. no one gives a fuck, no care at all. Always moving... junkies Methheads Punks Phreaks Some asshole thief with fingers always moving too. People just don't care...as long as you don't spill blood on them. Never know when some punk wanna do you. Never know when someone's sights are flashing across your spine. Last thing you'll see is everyone hit the pavement, As some stiff behind you points out the beam on your skull. Street kids weave in and out of allys, chasing each other with razors. Spotlights of the urban flash litter the sky. Foot soldiers or police as they call themselves walk blind, While some bits beat a shopkeeper who is down on his pay. Everyones blind, deaf, and dumb, don't wanna be on a shit list. Money, Drugs, Sex. That's what runs this pit. Everyone wants to move up. Step on your back. Cut you all up Slice, Slice real quite like. Who the fuck cares...not me. Because if I stop to care, it will be me. Kids move like angels thru the shadowed streets.... Glemming little razors sprayed with dried blood. Someone who cared tried to stop them. Someone who cared died. From Destiny@yabbs Wed Apr 6 21:42:44 1994 From: Destiny@yabbs To: aztec260@yabbs Subject: Razor Angels Date: Wed Apr 6 21:42:44 1994 Whoa........ From Natalie@yabbs Wed Apr 6 23:42:08 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: anudder sonnet Date: Wed Apr 6 23:42:08 1994 SONNET 2 Curling in his flesh it engulfs him, ties him to me. The entrapment is complete. Now, I can begin my work on his mind, changing it to suit my purposes. And he will never know, for he is stupid, dazzled by the beauty he sees before him. I laugh quietly, eyes narrowing in anger and in sorrow--I wish I didn't have to do this but always I do. It's in my nature to kill the ones I love, they are just so much dead weight-- once they admit it, the thrill is always gone. Gone, gone. I look in the silver glass, and I break it, killing myself with it. oh poopy. pasting text is weird here. oh well. *sigh* enjoy kiddies :) Natalie From Natalie@yabbs Wed Apr 6 23:44:15 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: aztec260@yabbs Subject: re: ra Date: Wed Apr 6 23:44:15 1994 wow....this is really good... I like your imagery a lot...i wish I had images as powerful and as moving as these are. wow wow wow wow *grin* Natalie From robtelee@yabbs Wed Apr 6 23:56:39 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: aztec260@yabbs Subject: comments Date: Wed Apr 6 23:56:39 1994 Powerful stuff....I've seen it... From BlueMax@yabbs Thu Apr 7 04:14:04 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: aztec260@yabbs Subject: re: ra Date: Thu Apr 7 04:14:04 1994 cool....very modern, in a cyberpunc sorta way..... From aztec260@yabbs Thu Apr 7 11:40:15 1994 From: aztec260@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: well done Date: Thu Apr 7 11:40:15 1994 Thank you ever much. I have just joined this board and am very impressed with this message base. Most bases that I have seen that deal with poetry and creative writing everone talks about published works and never writes anything themselves. all work that I see here is some of the most moving, deeply imagnative and inspiring work I have ever come across. Thank you for letting me join in. From aztec260@yabbs Thu Apr 7 12:11:21 1994 From: aztec260@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: magic Date: Thu Apr 7 12:11:21 1994 I Sell the Magic I sell the magic A little bit of your dreams A place to go and hide I sell the magic i can give you anything you want Love Hate Sex Happiness I sell the magic The magic that'll make you immortal The magic that'll make you fly I sell the high I sell the magic No one is to small to old to rich There is no social class in my mix I sell the magic dime bags quarters an once I sell the magic one rock one shot a drop or a line I sell the magic For a price You want a sample Skip down the block I don't loan shit here You gotta buy I sell the magic Don't you forget I make dreams happen I sell the magic From Nickolai@yabbs Thu Apr 7 16:54:52 1994 From: Nickolai@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: poem Date: Thu Apr 7 16:54:52 1994 hmmm..... I wonder..... From Ant@yabbs Fri Apr 8 18:11:46 1994 From: Ant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Death Date: Fri Apr 8 18:11:46 1994 The white walls encase me and I rail against them, trying to get out It's been this way since the funeral. I'm not really dead. And I scream hollowly As they lower the coffin into the grave. Natalie From Ant@yabbs Fri Apr 8 18:20:58 1994 From: Ant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Yeats Date: Fri Apr 8 18:20:58 1994 On reading "The Second Coming" Swirling red sands shift across the scalded landscape, obscuring my vision and blinding me to the Sphinx, slowly shifting it's slow thighs and rising to its lion's feet, head of man looking about in semi concealed disbelief "Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world." Hordes of warriors march across the land obliterating all in sight the bright blood of the boys sent to fight another's war. "The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity." Bitterness is in my mouth I see that the world is how it is and nothing I do will change it. My dreams are dead and they will never become a phoenix in the skies of my mind. Yeats was right. Ant/Natalie Yeats is my favorite poet, and "The Second Coming" is my favorite poem. I think it says a lot about the condition of the world today...a lot of my dreams won't be able to come true because of previous generations and those who are in power right now, and quite frankly, I'm pissed. *grin* I don't know if I will be able to change things or not...I wrote this poem on a bad day (I write all my poetry on bad days), so I'm really not that pessimistic. Really. :) From Charon@yabbs Fri Apr 8 19:18:00 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: NEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Date: Fri Apr 8 19:18:00 1994 DARK? Why is love a maze, and a toil of darkened dream? that twists and turns, into not what it seems Why can't love be a flower, that blooms in the sun? Why is love a shadow, forever on the run? Why is love confusing, a dazzling web of lies, Why is love left stranded, to dance among the flies? Why is love shown red, when all i see is black? Why is love about giving, when i never get it back? How can love be true, forever etched in stone, How can love be shared, when i am always so alone? Who can dea; with love, but the confident and strong? Who is there to love, for my only love was wrong. When does love attack, or sail upon the sea? When is love for us, and when does love choose me? Can love be at my side, or follow at my heel? or how about in my pocket, for only me to feel? Can love be the darkness, that i carry on my back? or maybe love's the light, that i always seem to lack..... -Charon- From jujubee@yabbs Sat Apr 9 00:27:15 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Ant@yabbs Subject: re: Death Date: Sat Apr 9 00:27:15 1994 hmmmm...my sentiments exactly, Nat..... From jujubee@yabbs Sat Apr 9 00:30:17 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: NEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Date: Sat Apr 9 00:30:17 1994 remind me about this poem the next time we chat... From Kirkland@yabbs Sat Apr 9 11:42:34 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Fade to Nothing Date: Sat Apr 9 11:42:34 1994 Time has not been kind. I have enterred uncharted territory, lost and alone- with only unfamiliar stars to guide me. I have lost sight of the heroes and have been reduced to fading away. Diminuendo niente. Fade to nothing. I wish to pick up my sword and fight once again for glory and honor, but my arm has grown tired, and my soul doesn't shine so pure. I can no longer take up arms for my only oppressor is myself. My battle was lost long before I knew it was fought. Angel of Mercy. Angel of Death. She gently caresses my temple, whispers my name into my ear, then kisses me with lips as soft as rose... petals? 3-22-94/12:48.56 P.M. -Kirkland From Kirkland@yabbs Sat Apr 9 11:54:24 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: This Masterpiece Date: Sat Apr 9 11:54:24 1994 I rode west. The motorcycle was as one with the road as I crossed the plains. The wind is whipping through my hair. The sun is high in the sky. My leather jacket bakes from the heat- like the road. Ponytail? ...nahh. Sunglasses with no glare from the road. Yellow lines, dashes, dashes, lines, dashes. Lines. I am headed for the hills for I know love can be found there. The sun goes down. The moon is full and my tank is empty. Fuel- for bike and man. I light up a cigarette and take a drag. Image is everything. I cough and drop the smoke; smash it with a toe. Image is nothing. I gun the accelerator and am off. Gas station left in the dust, duty fulfilled. Passing lane- don't do it, it's a trick. Patience... a virtue, the key, a calmness... hmmm. Trees line the road. I like trees. It's getting cold. I could stop and rest, but I won't. Midnight. The air is so quiet; the engine roar so pure. I am lost in the night's embrace as the road ribbons through the hills. I look up. Stars... windows to heaven. "Hi, God." [ I wave ] - - - - - (I got done writing this and said, "Now what should I call this masterpiece?" And so it went.) The last poem (Fade2Not) was a little dreary so I hope this cheers you up. -Kirkland From Nemesis@yabbs Sun Apr 10 01:31:17 1994 From: Nemesis@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: poetic attempt Date: Sun Apr 10 01:31:17 1994 How I feel when she's near is hard to describe. The Love that I fear I see in her eyes. I want to go get it, yet I'm too afraid of change. These mixed up emotions do make me feel strange. I must have the courage to stand up and fight, Like a stong man should, like a valiant knight. Yet, action is not yielded from these words that I write. Once again I am lonely, living in spite. From Ant@yabbs Sun Apr 10 03:31:50 1994 From: Ant@yabbs To: Nemesis@yabbs Subject: re: poetic attempt Date: Sun Apr 10 03:31:50 1994 RHYMED IAMBIC PENTAMETER!!! I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who attempts it... *grin* I really liked this...your meter's real good (as compared to mine, which is weak at best). I like this :) ANT From Lacey@yabbs Mon Apr 11 03:52:22 1994 From: Lacey@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Dreams Date: Mon Apr 11 03:52:22 1994 DREAMS A dream come true is a fantasy fulfilled. A dream come true is a feeling of hope A dream come true is a feeling of joy A dream come true is a feeling of love A dream come true is a feeling of accomplishment A dream come true is what makes life worth living. Dream of money and success Dream of traveling to some far off place Dream of a family and a white picket fence Dream of what makes you happy. A dream only needs to be something that makes you happy. A dream only needs to be a ray of hope in your life. Dreams have a way of making the dreary look bright and the sad feel happy It doesn't matter what the dream might be as long as its your dream. Dreams are the part of life that we should never give up. A dream today is a hope for tomorrow. A dream today paves the road for the future. Dreams are what we allow them to be. If they are to come true then we must believe that these dreams will one day come true. There is no other way to live your life. Without a dream you may have nothing. Thanks for reading! :) Lacey From anonimus@yabbs Mon Apr 11 14:46:59 1994 From: anonimus@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Mon Apr 11 14:46:59 1994 Manic Depression on a Full Moon Charlotte walks in the light of the stars. I notice her coming towards me Out of the corner of my mind, And I am tense. She stops in my presence. "How is your garden?" I ask, Not expecting her to answer. "Oh, fine..." she sighs, and takes a step closer. *Does she have a knife?* Her long, limp hair is dragged by the breeze-- It bothers her as much as it does me. "Why do you ask, Brother?" She is nearer now and can read my mind. "Because you are usually gardening when the moon is full." But she only heard the truth: *Because you are crazy and I don't know what else to say.* Her moon-white gown is limp, too, And her bare ankles are scratched by thorns. I know her well, and she has come to either hear my worldly confessions or to take my life. From Natalie@yabbs Mon Apr 11 15:50:02 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: anonimus@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Mon Apr 11 15:50:02 1994 cool cool cool :) Nice images :) Natalie From jujubee@yabbs Mon Apr 11 22:08:33 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: anonimus@yabbs Subject: manic depression... Date: Mon Apr 11 22:08:33 1994 now there's a twist! poetry w/dialogue....i like it! From Natalie@yabbs Mon Apr 11 22:53:01 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: manic depression... Date: Mon Apr 11 22:53:01 1994 This is the first decent sex scene I've ever written. I'd like comments on it, please please please. It would make me very happy to have comments for this. Dearest Love, Every night I lay here in my bed and remember the time we spent together. I remember every detail. Every kiss, every touch, every fervently whispered word. ANd it seems so odd that I had never thought of you or myself in such a way before. I was beautiful that day, you made me beautiful. I will remember that. You walked up to me in the park, and sat down. I was reading a book. You took the book from me and looked into my eyes. We had met before, but never quite like this. There was an attraction between us that I had never felt before. You looked around, to see if anyone was looking. I didn't know why you cared who saw. I do now. But then, I didn't think. All I knew was that you were kissing me, and I was kissing you back. Then your hands were touching my arms, moving up to my shoulders and around to my back. I reached up and twisted my hand in your long dark hair. It was like silk in my hand, slippery and smooth and soft. YOu pulled me to and I lost my balance and fell on top of you. The feel of your body and your arousal on me made me feel...I don't have the words. You rolled me beneath you and I was even more excited to feel your skin on mine. I tugged at your dark shirt and put my hands on your back. Your skin was warm to my touch, I could feel the muscles moving under my fingers. Your hands moved to my hair, holding me to you. I wanted to stay this way forever. Then, when I didn't think it could get any better, one of your hands caressed my cheek and landed on my shoulder. Then you were pulling at my shirt, and I heard a noise deep in your throat as your hand snuck up the back of my shirt and touched my skin. I felt my heart begin to beat faster as your hand slowly, too slowly, unhooked my bra. I wanted you to touch my breasts. I wanted to feel beautiful. I wanted you to think I was beautiful. I wanted to be beautiful. Your rough gentle hand deliberately caressed my breast. I could feel the tension in you, as you tried to go slowly. But I didn't want you to be slow or careful or to think about what you were doing. I justwanted to feel everything I could feel; that I had ever dreamt about feeling. You paused for a moment and took your shirt off. I looked at you. You were beautiful, more beautiful than I had imagined. You leaned back and pulled my shirt off. I blushed. You told me not to be embarassed, no one could see us. We were surrounded by bushes and trees. I wondered how you knew I was here. You told me you knew such things. Then you kissed me again. And both your rough gentle hands held me down and slowly touched me. I dug my nails into your back and I heard you moan. Then you were unfastening my jeans. And I was fumbling with your belt. You peeled my jeans off my legs, I felt the sun on my thighs. I wasn't wearing any underwear. You laughed when you discovered that. I blushed. You touched my cheek, my lips, my nipples. I slowly pulled your pants off, then looked away. I didn't want to see it. I had a phobia. I whispered it to you, you sais you understood. But I still wanted you, and I told you that too. You smiled a secret smile at me. I shyly smiled back. Then, you were pulling my legs apart, and you looked at me. I slowly slowly slowly nodded. Then I couldn't think anymore. All I knew was that I didn't want you to stop but I didn't think I could survive much more. As I thought I was going to die, I felt you in me. You shifted your weight on top of me. I gasped. I moved my hips, feeling you grind into me, and then I couldn't feel anymore. I was in sensory overload. You collapsed on top of me. I breathed in and out. I was sweating. Your weight was comfortable on top of me. Then, you stood up and yanked your pants up. Bending over, you kissed me one last time as you picked your shirt up. Then you left me. I haven't seen you sincethen, I've looked everywhere. But you disappeared. No one has seen you. I sometimes wonder if you were just a figment of my imagination. Yes, I think that is it, I made you up. You exist on the other side from me. You are waiting for me on that other side. I know you are. I see you in my dreams, beckoning, kissing, loving me. I want to be with you. Which is why I make this decision. Better to be with you and be happy than to be in this world and be no one. You made me think I was someone, then you disappeared. I hate you for that, but I want to believe that again. So I make this choice. You can't fault me for this choice no more than I can fault you for you choice to stay away from this world. For I know that I am more than half in love with easeful Death, and I know he is in love with me........ FIN Natalie From Natalie@yabbs Tue Apr 12 02:04:31 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Hellion@yabbs Subject: re: manic depression... Date: Tue Apr 12 02:04:31 1994 Wow, hellion, that was great. That was a spur of the momentt thing? Geez, I have to fight to get my poetry out.... Don't we all feel like that sometimes though? Hmmm...do you have any suggestions for whatI could do to make my scene better? Do I use the word beautiful too much (I use it 7 times...I counted)? *grin* Talk to you later Natalie From Hellion@yabbs Tue Apr 12 02:39:45 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: Words Date: Tue Apr 12 02:39:45 1994 In message re: manic depression..., Natalie said: > Hmmm...do you have any suggestions for whatI could do to make my scene > better? Do I use the word beautiful too much (I use it 7 times...I > counted)? *grin* I guess that it depends. If this is a romantic scene *like I _think_ you were trying* then beautiful was just fine, if it were more towards the sex thing the words erotic and *I know a cliche* sexy might have worked better. Kirkland *who is on very little* has actually written a book with poetry and prose *I am in it too :) * maybe he might want to respond. I'll let him know. Later all -- Hellion ( look it up in the dictionary, it is my exact oppisite :) From Charon@yabbs Tue Apr 12 15:27:18 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: sanctity Date: Tue Apr 12 15:27:18 1994 When the houses creak, and the windows turn, the clouds run dark, and the shadows burn. While on yonder moon, the hearts will yearn.. The stars shine bright, on reflecting lake, as the sun creeps up, on the river's wake. As the birds sing free, the dawn does break. The wolves of morn, lick their lips on her thigh, and the bats watch intently, as her body floats by.. So naked and free.. The trees start to cry.. -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Tue Apr 12 15:39:22 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: ODE TO INSANITY Date: Tue Apr 12 15:39:22 1994 As a young child, he sat, in the dark, in a room, with a solitary candle. The shadows dance with temptation as they silently whisper evil thoughts. The evil thoughts grab hold, and rip open the heart of the child and begin to swallow his entire being, his SOUL. The LOVE turned to HATE, the JOY to DESPAIR, the beauty to none, and his true love to his fatal enemy. The child is depressed and truely alone. Not a soul who cares, not a soul who dares....to touch him. His face draws down and a devilish smile is seen on his lips, dripping scarlet obsession, in a frenzy of madness. The fire's of Hell are burning in his soul, and escaping through portals known as eyes. Eyes black as coal and cold as ice. He has lost his love, or so he thought. The demons have ripped out his will to love, and with that, his feeling of love. She was innocent, She was beautiful, but most important, she was one of THEM, just as evil has the child has become. She loved, but disguised it, She cared, but denied it. She was the demon who carved the hole in the child's heart. A gateway for evil, a door for the insane. Evil pulsing through his body, and collecting in his brain.... -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Tue Apr 12 15:51:34 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: Charon Date: Tue Apr 12 15:51:34 1994 When the volcano roars, and trumpets on third, they are caught in your throats.. and never to be heard. When a blade of steel, slices down through the air, the knife cannot feel, the knife does not care.. When a soul is set free, to roam as they please, a person begs for their life, oh..begs on their knees.. As i sit down to write, a scream hits my ears, to echo beliefs, and confirm all my fears. As i lay down On the darkest of nights, i think of the hate, and i dream of my light.... -Charon- From jujubee@yabbs Wed Apr 13 00:00:08 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: Charon Date: Wed Apr 13 00:00:08 1994 final stanza...first line...meter flow not quite even...try to insert "myself" between "lay" and "down"...how does that sound to you??? i think it flows more smoothly.....but that's just my opinion.... *wink* From jujubee@yabbs Wed Apr 13 00:02:01 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: ODE TO INSANITY Date: Wed Apr 13 00:02:01 1994 yipes! i hope i never meet up w/this fellow! if i do, i hope there's someone around to save me! hehehe From Phain@yabbs Wed Apr 13 08:05:12 1994 From: Phain@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Lost Date: Wed Apr 13 08:05:12 1994 wasted on the corner the neon catches for a moment in your eye then moves on again, your gaze shifting searching, glassy and wanton for truth, you say. alterations kill the soul in their subtlety though you can't begin to know least of all now. life has escaped you for a moment you are the walking dead shambling about, risen from the earth your rotten teeth gnaw at ties once held sacred in death's shadow you have chosen the role of the stranger yes, i suppose you have escaped, turning your back on oblivion (but also on me). bask well in your Pride now drunk and swolen. marks once hidden become points of pride bits of discolored vanity. a braggart of the world you discovered without regret of worlds you left behind -Phain From Kirkland@yabbs Wed Apr 13 15:52:34 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: Let's talk about sex... Date: Wed Apr 13 15:52:34 1994 (Hellion lies...I'm practiaclly a virgin. NOT!) Oh, well, since he put me up to it... One of the hardest images to convey is the emotion of sex. I used to think it was just an act, but once you think of it as a feeling you can begin to explain it-- not just experience the physical sense. You can bring up memories in other people, shared experiences, fond remembrances, etc. Sure, everyone wants to read a "good fuck scene", but there's more to it than that. You need to drag their feelings and emotions into the story, not just their loins and hormones. There are three types of sex stories: 1) The professional writer's, 2) The amatuer's and 3) The pornographic. They all work, but in different ways. The pornographic is designed to get you all hot and sweaty, sporting wood if you're male, breathy if you're female. That's what it's all about. It's primal, it's dirty, it's nasty. It's what we all want to do once (and some all the time), but it's meant to make your body react, with just a little imagination because it leaves little to your imagination. The professional writers have been writing about sex since they knew what their thingies did. They have written about sex so many times and in so many ways it comes naturally. Personally, you can only read so many Harlequins (which I don't read-- I'm male) before the sex scenes are just one more scene in the book. I think the overuse, the flowery words, have just lost their glamor. It works time and time again, but their version of a sex scene doesn't have you breathing all that heavy. Then there's the amatuer. Everyone else fits in this group. You fall into the good amatuer group because your story doegive a certain sense of urgency. Longer sentences add to the dreaminess. You have the "correct" progression of moves. You have good details throughout. You give your thoughts. You give your emotions-- and that is why it works. You can write a hundred sex stories and none of them would be as good as this one because it was your first. (Kinda like sex-- you will always remember your first time). It's stilted, it's direct, it tells what you felt. If it flowed it would be bullshit. You think that you need points on how to make it better? Read it again, and this time let yourself experience the same emotions you're trying to evoke in others. Don't look at it as "what I wrote" but as "what I experienced". It might be better than you thought. No, you used beautiful about as much as you'd want to, you're still okay. You write quite well and have a good future in it. (I know-- critique me, tell me what I should change, not what I do right.) The only thing I can suggest is that you don't change it too much. I was once told that to write a really good story one had to write it twice and put the best of both together to form the best version. This would kill the innocence of the story. It works because it is so personal. If this is what it takes to be an amatuer, there's nothing wrong with being an amatuer. Hell, I enjoy being one. Professional or not, you did a fine job. -Kirkland From Natalie@yabbs Wed Apr 13 16:11:47 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Kirkland@yabbs Subject: re: Let's talk about sex... Date: Wed Apr 13 16:11:47 1994 Thanks a lot...that scene was *very* difficult for me to write. I've read one too many romance novel (*blush*) to be comfortable using the kinds of words they use. So I had to find words I *could* use. That was the most difficult part. Finding the correct words... I think that's the hardest part about writing anything, finding the words. For me anyhow. I can know exactly what will happen, but I won't know how to put it on screen in the right way (I write on the computer, I can't use paper), the way that will convey what I want the reader to feel. So I often get bogged down in revisions (which I hate doing), or the story slowly dies on me. This was the first thing I had finished in a month or so... I don't know about the words though, there's some words I can use, there's some I can't...I have sworn to *never* use the word thrrobbing in any kind of serious context. Or heaving. I just can't. The words have to speak to me somehow before I can arrange them, rearrange them. When I start writing, and I can feel the words, and I can arrange them in the right way, I get the most incredible high...do you know what I'm trying to explain here? Well, anyhow, that's my two cents on the matter :) --Natalie-- From jujubee@yabbs Wed Apr 13 16:33:17 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Let's talk about sex... Date: Wed Apr 13 16:33:17 1994 how bout the words "gyrating" or "pulsating"??? hehehe...j/k jujubee From Natalie@yabbs Wed Apr 13 16:40:12 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: Let's talk about sex... Date: Wed Apr 13 16:40:12 1994 i think "gyrating" and "pulsating" are really great words to use... *smirk* I'm gonna use them in my revision... *snigger* Natalie From Kirkland@yabbs Wed Apr 13 16:46:28 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: A Summer Rain Date: Wed Apr 13 16:46:28 1994 It had been a mercilessly long and hot day with the approaching cold front finally pushing its way through the humid air, bringing a much awaited thunderstorm. The rain would begin with a quick downpour, then a steady shower to last through the night. The first drops are felt just a few miles to the west of here, but the rain has yet to hit... I grabbed at her tight little butt with both hands and squeezed double handfuls of her ass. She let loose a purely sexual squeak and pounced on me, driving her fingernails into my back and shoving her tongue through my open lips. I tossed her on the hood of my car and she started to purr like a content cat after a hard day's work. Thunder rolled in the distance and it was cooling off just fast enough for her to have goosebumps all over her body. A hand upon my crotch and a look of longing drove me to that low neckline. Her tanktop bit the dust and she casually took off her bra in plain view. She knew that the line of careful playfulness had just been crossed. She wanted me in her so bad that I knew tonight would be the night. I reached down to unbutton her shorts, not quite expecting to find that she had beaten me to it. I pulled her panties down to herankles with one finger, making her giggle from the tickle of silk. She shoved her crotch into my face and I took to her like a desert bandit to water. I let my tongue go wild as it caressed and slid across everything that causes pleasure. The tingle and the tongue sent shockwaves through her body, and the grasp at the back of my head told me that she was ready. Her hands slid across my chest, then she leaned forward to suck on me just a little. She licked up the side of my neck, then threw her body next to mine as she kissed me and tugged at my jeans. My Levis took residence at my ankles and I kicked to take them off, succeeding only in tripping myself and pulling us both to the ground. She took one look at my rubber duckie boxer shorts and couldn't resist a laugh, then she pulled them off and whistled, ""Qu-ack!" at my throbbing, well, y'know, dick. I rolled her onto her back and pulled her panties off of her the rest of the way as slowly as I could to show her that I wanted to so bad yet wasn't going to rush her first time. She grabbed at little Eddie (that's my dick, in case you're wondering) and pulled him up to meet her wet pussy. The Edster slid right in and she looked like she was going to implode it felt so good and so different and so big and so deep into her. I started slowly rocking back and forth on her until she raised up her legs enough to give it the full effect. I pushed it up to full throttle and let her have it as I sent my shot of love deep into her. She sent back a wave of juices as she had her first orgasm, almost ripping my head off in the process. Then it rained, I pulled out, and we went home. She moved away that summer and I never saw her again. I must admit, she was a fun fuck and (surprise, surprise)-- I did love her... June 25, 1992. (A little old) I know, it gets a little nasty in parts, but it was the one sex story (of my three) that had the word throbbing in it (sorry Natalie). I'll post something from the SODa Can to make up for it, -Kirkland From jujubee@yabbs Wed Apr 13 16:55:55 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Let's talk about sex... Date: Wed Apr 13 16:55:55 1994 hehehe...i knew you'd love those! let me know about that revision! hehehe From Natalie@yabbs Wed Apr 13 17:06:02 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Kirkland@yabbs Subject: re: A Summer Rain Date: Wed Apr 13 17:06:02 1994 Kirkland.... Not bad...I likedthe way you named the narrator's dick :) Natalie From issachar@yabbs Wed Apr 13 17:31:29 1994 From: issachar@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: doesn't every man have a na Date: Wed Apr 13 17:31:29 1994 name for that thing? =) From Skywise@yabbs Wed Apr 13 18:03:54 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: Let's talk about sex... Date: Wed Apr 13 18:03:54 1994 Go back to message 109. How did you get THAT many bytes? hehehe From Lacey@yabbs Wed Apr 13 18:07:04 1994 From: Lacey@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: manic depression... Date: Wed Apr 13 18:07:04 1994 Bravo!!!! That was great. You brought images to life and that is what creative writing should be. It was aabsolutly great. Lacey From jujubee@yabbs Wed Apr 13 18:11:04 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: Let's talk about sex... Date: Wed Apr 13 18:11:04 1994 good observation...sorry to say i didn't plan it that way....just the luck of the draw so to say....hehehe From jujubee@yabbs Wed Apr 13 18:13:34 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: eclipse Date: Wed Apr 13 18:13:34 1994 you passed me in the narrow corridor silence as my heart skipped its usual cadence and unspoken despair surrounded and suffocated me From Destiny@yabbs Wed Apr 13 18:39:24 1994 From: Destiny@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: ohhhhh.... Date: Wed Apr 13 18:39:24 1994 Major major impact from this piece..... -Dest' From Destiny@yabbs Wed Apr 13 18:40:27 1994 From: Destiny@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: my last message Date: Wed Apr 13 18:40:27 1994 The last message was about this piece....ODE TO INSANITY... From Hellion@yabbs Wed Apr 13 19:16:37 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: Kirkland@yabbs Subject: re: A Summer Rain Date: Wed Apr 13 19:16:37 1994 Steve, Is that the original version? It seems like you revised it some from the last time I read it :) I think "Paint me a picture" would be a good post. -- Hellion From warlord@yabbs Wed Apr 13 22:12:01 1994 From: warlord@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Buh Date: Wed Apr 13 22:12:01 1994 Do not shed your tears for me I am but a dim light in a vast place Life is not measured by words but by the deeds of men. From Kirkland@yabbs Thu Apr 14 11:00:59 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Sheila Date: Thu Apr 14 11:00:59 1994 I first met this sweetheart in my childhood. She was the cutest girl I had ever seen. I thought she was going to last forever. I don't understand why guys can be so mean. I called her a friend, and sometimes she was more. Why this shy girl fell from grace no one knows for sure. During the day Sheila was her given name, but at night the guys had other names for her. I remember back in kindergarten, when she asked me if I would be her boyfriend. I later found out I was her fourth that day- it didn't matter. I just didn't want it to end. I saw her walking down the street a few years back. I caught myself thinking about what could have been. She winked at me and said it would never last. But that never meant it couldn't happen. Our high school years came and went in a blur. Sheila spent all her nights out on the town. She flirted and she cooed, laughing at every pass. If she liked what she saw, she just might go down. I remember those nights she ran to my arms; crying from the pain- not so tough on the inside. She acted like a tramp and lost out in her games. Wasted youth withered behind a mask of pride. Never before and never since have I heard the cry of a horny angel. Yet every time I made love to her it was only in my dreams. I awoke with visions of her lips just a breath away- her mussed up hair and lace underwear falling apart at the seams. She was always smiling, and sure she always laughed. I suppose the life of the party agrees with living in sin. Why she always went back for more I'll never know. But they always took her and used her and left her again. I got a letter the other day and out poured her life. Sheila wrote of boys and men, hopes and a broken heart. I wished for her a happy ending after all her pain. I'll never know where she went, our worlds grew too far apart... From Charon@yabbs Thu Apr 14 14:58:33 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Destiny@yabbs Subject: re: ohhhhh.... Date: Thu Apr 14 14:58:33 1994 In re: ohhhhhh..... Destiny said > Major major impact from this piece.... What piece were you reffering to?... -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Thu Apr 14 14:59:24 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Destiny@yabbs Subject: re: my last message Date: Thu Apr 14 14:59:24 1994 ohhhhhhh.... you answered thet next message...*sorry* -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Thu Apr 14 15:01:15 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Kirkland@yabbs Subject: re: Sheila Date: Thu Apr 14 15:01:15 1994 VERY COOL!!!! i loved the imagery... :) -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Thu Apr 14 15:07:02 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: Charon2 Date: Thu Apr 14 15:07:02 1994 On a high way of hate, he stands out from the rest...He is your mom, yuor dad, your best friend, your lifelong companion...He is no different on the outside..but inside..well, that is a different story. When his mind churns it dreams of evil awakening thoughts, and stories unheard. and disasters that could only be thought of by a mad man...no one fears the man, no one worships..they only react. The man can hide; the man can run; the man can do anything you can do..but do it with twice the hate..The man rremains hidden...but one look inside yourself..and the box may be sprung... you have been warned...of the innate evil that lurks inside everyone of us.. -Charon- From Natalie@yabbs Thu Apr 14 15:08:46 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Kirkland@yabbs Subject: re: Sheila Date: Thu Apr 14 15:08:46 1994 Hmmmm....this hits *really* close to home for me....my younger sister is a lot like "sheila". What happened to Sheila I'm really scared will happen to Caryn. Is it ok if I print this up to show to her? Something has got to get through to her...maybe this will... --Natalie-- *smile* From Natalie@yabbs Thu Apr 14 15:11:06 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: Charon2 Date: Thu Apr 14 15:11:06 1994 Just a-wonderin'....do you ever write positive things? Myself, I find it really difficult to do so, because when I am in a good mood I don't feel like writing about it because I want to enjoy the mood while I have it. And, when I'm depressed, the words seem to flow better... From warlord@yabbs Thu Apr 14 18:19:42 1994 From: warlord@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Dark Date: Thu Apr 14 18:19:42 1994 Everyman is a spark in the darkness By the time he is noticed he is gone A retinal after-image that fades and is obscured, by newer, brighter lights From warlord@yabbs Thu Apr 14 19:08:03 1994 From: warlord@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Strength Date: Thu Apr 14 19:08:03 1994 Only the insane have strength enough to prosper Only those who prosper Truely judge what is sane From Hellion@yabbs Thu Apr 14 21:22:19 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: To A friend Date: Thu Apr 14 21:22:19 1994 *I accidentally put this in mind games, silly me* You take the rain and blow it away with your wings so strong, it cannot stay An Angel Frees my mind of pain But when it rains, you pull me close giving me a health dose Of The Love i never get A ray of sun gives warmth to my heart i wonder why you play this part Or Are You a true friend? And i when i am happy i don't know what to say i feel like am pushing you away i've Never Had A friend like you So if our lives seems to stray i'll miss you on those rainy days And Write You Letters of friendship *the person to whom this is dedicated knows who they are :-)* From Deaska@yabbs Fri Apr 15 08:05:28 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: query Date: Fri Apr 15 08:05:28 1994 this is to Nat *hug* and everyone else... Do you really think being down and depressed is condusive to good (oops wrong word...) um... productive ( *smile* thas better) writing? Is this a personal thing that varies from writer to writer, or do others here feels the same as Nat... (personally, I find myself writing better while... 1. depressed and stuffed up inside... 2. really excited about a concept or new plot, or whatever...3. after a tub of chocolate icecream, well, during the consumption of it :) any takers? *burp* s'cuse :) Keep the spirit, Deask' *smile* From Cat@yabbs Fri Apr 15 09:07:36 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Deaska@yabbs Subject: re: query Date: Fri Apr 15 09:07:36 1994 Hmmmm. That's a tough question....some of the best writers, most of the best writers, and esp. my favorites, were moody, depressed and psychologically messed up people-like Poe and Eliot...many writers produced some of their best stuff when "under the influence" like Poe and Coleridge and Lewis Carroll (Alice in Wonderland may have been shroom induced, but I still love it. :) ) Me myself, I write stuff when I'm depressed to bring myself out of it. At the same time, when I'm really happy about something, I write then too. I write when I find myself at ANY emotional peak. I find that expressing what I'm feeling about ANYthing creatively and getting it down on paper, or through music really helps. So maybe that's what everyone else is doing whn they write...and maybe that's why the best stuff people sometimes produce is when their feeling some sort of strong emotion (be it depression, anger,love (gack) :) etc.)-when people are feeling something, then they're more alive, their senses are more awake, and of course they're going to write better stuff. Anyway...these ramblings are my opinion on the matter. Interesting query Deask. *smile* I liked it. :) -tammie From Kirkland@yabbs Fri Apr 15 12:57:14 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Beautiful People Date: Fri Apr 15 12:57:14 1994 This little beast was written last fall and is sort of a remembrance of those wonderful(?) high school years. Scorn not the beautiful people, for though their lives may appear to be shallow, they are also rich in pain... Mr. Popularity.. Mr. Class Clown. Has a way of making you smile when you're down. He makes everyone happy and knows he can. But he cries because girls find him funny, never serious, and he dies of an overdose- a lonely man. Musclebound Weightlifter. Bigger-than-life sized. Flexin' Down What a way to live. His steroid test just came back positive. Jockmeister. Team Leader. No one can stop him when the heat is on. Went through high school with a football helmet on. Now his knee is blown out and his academics lie in a paralyzed fit. He found out that every door that says "Enter" on the other side says "Exit". Cheerleader. Not just another pretty face. Wears her skirt short just to make the guys drool. And everyone knows that she's the pride of the school. Too bad the quarterback did more than score. Now she's pregnant, alone, and the school's disgrace. She's just a winner that lost her biological race. Now it can't be said that tragedy rules everyone's life- but a life of popularity is a life of strife. The life of the beautiful ones is longed for by every social outcast, trying hard to make their mark today, not just be a figment in someone else's past. Some friendships run shallow instead of running deep, and with college one step away sometimes friends don't always keep. Sociality- what hell could be worse? One man's paradise. Another man's curse. (It fits with a rap rhythm I have in the back of my head, so I hope you didn't read it too slowly.) -Kirkland From Kirkland@yabbs Fri Apr 15 13:02:33 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: The Beautiful People Date: Fri Apr 15 13:02:33 1994 In message The Beautiful People, Kirkland said: > Musclebound Weightlifter. Bigger-than-life sized. > Flexin' Down What a way to live. > His steroid test just came back positive. It's supposed to be: Musclebound Weightlifter. Bigger-than-life sized. Flexin' for successin' in everything he does. Downs beer with both hands with hardly a buzz. Gets girlies by the dozens-- What a way to live. His steroid test just came back positive. Sorry 'bout that, the paste option in the editor I'm forced to use is occaisionally on the rag. -Kirkland From Orion*@yabbs Fri Apr 15 13:25:23 1994 From: Orion*@yabbs To: tam-ra@yabbs Subject: re: Paybacks suck... Date: Fri Apr 15 13:25:23 1994 What is up with that? This bbs is not a place to play out your personal fantasies! Stuff like this should be kept in @email. You must be a newbie anyhow. -- Orion* From Kirkland@yabbs Fri Apr 15 14:24:39 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: Orion*@yabbs Subject: re: Paybacks suck... Date: Fri Apr 15 14:24:39 1994 In message re: Paybacks suck..., Orion* said: > What is up with that? This bbs is not a place to play out your personal > fantasies! Stuff like this should be kept in @email. You must be a > newbie anyhow. > > > -- Orion* Well, "Orion*" or should I say [Hellion with a new name to make it look like a different user], I don't think that the word "fantasies" is very appropriate. I think nightmare fits the topic a little better, you forget I watched what happened. And I was there when the shit went down (and seem to remember getting blamed for it). This is no more a fantasy than Message #98, where you were swept up in the moment and wrote the poem about Chandra. You are right, though, in saying that this should have been in email, but you made the first stab with what I guess was your mis-informed view of what happened. Sux2BU. She should have dumped you before things went sour and you got greedy and rough in the sexual arena. Oh, well, good-bye to old friends. Sorry, but it had to be done. -Kirkland, the fallen from grace. (I knew I should have written a poem...) From Natalie@yabbs Fri Apr 15 14:48:43 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: tam-ra@yabbs Subject: re: Paybacks suck... Date: Fri Apr 15 14:48:43 1994 Cold. Real cold. And that's all I'm going to say. Natalie From Natalie@yabbs Fri Apr 15 15:17:50 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Deaska@yabbs Subject: re: query Date: Fri Apr 15 15:17:50 1994 Hullo Deask' *hug*...... Hmmm...when I try to write when I'm in a good mood (which isn't often) I don't get the same kind of flow I do when I'm grumpy...the words don't fit together right. (Does anyone but me know what I'm talking about when I I say the words flowing and stuff?) I *sometimes* can if I have a really good idea, but not often. Writing is cathartic for me, I get a lot of my pain and anger out on the page. It's my therapy. I almost always feel better *after* I finish/get a good start on something than I do before or during...well...when I get going I feel pretty damn good too... Well, yet again, my 2 cents worth... *grin* Natalie From Charon@yabbs Fri Apr 15 15:22:21 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Charon2 Date: Fri Apr 15 15:22:21 1994 no..i never really do write abouit positive things...i seem to relate beeter to the negative aspect of life..seems i am always hangin around there..*sigh* *hug* love ya Nat=Ant -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Fri Apr 15 15:39:39 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: Paybacks suck... Date: Fri Apr 15 15:39:39 1994 COULD SOMEONE CLUE ME IN AS TO WHAT IS GOIN ON HERE....IF I AM NOT READING POEMS THESE LAST FEW MESSAGES..THEN I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHAT IS THE BIG DEAL WITH HELLOIN AND THIS OPTHER PERSON.... stargazing up, yes up..way up high, where the secrets fall and the answers lie look..look up, my brightened son Climb up trees, and through grass you run.. Forget not..my son..the power of stars as you gaze up high, along the valley of mars.. Sleep well..sleep well...under starry skies Let yuor thoughts run away.. as you close shut your eyes... Live long....live long..over many a day.. at the end you'll remember.. the role the stars did play... *hopr ypou liked it..it was spontaneous (like about two minutes ago.)* -Charon- From jujubee@yabbs Fri Apr 15 17:23:32 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: latest... Date: Fri Apr 15 17:23:32 1994 loved it! From MBZ@yabbs Fri Apr 15 20:42:29 1994 From: MBZ@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Blinded........ Date: Fri Apr 15 20:42:29 1994 Blinded by the Light I've been told my reality is not reality. I stare out over the endless nothing before me. I strain to see, but the sun is just too bright. I stand before my maker, the edge wanting to give way. I stand at the edge of the cliff and ponder my destiny. I stand and recall all of my realitys that never came true. (Real dreams?) I realize that this one will be taken from me too. A voice from nowhere said- MBZ - do you care to test that theory. It was AK! I looked with a blank expression. Here comes your answer! With no fear I look to him and jump because I have reason to beleive that the ground is really there. Falling, falling, falling, falling, falling, falling, falling, ........................faster every second I fall.... Just as I thought! Now somone is pissing in my chereos again! I'll fix- um this time. Instead of pissing in their chereos so both of ours taste like piss, I will just take their cheroes, and feed them their own piss............ ........................................................................yep-- that's it! (Feeding is cool--Beavis). Whoever said don't get mad get even? They were as foolish as I have been. I recall my many stuggles, think of friends past. Why do you treat me this way? Are you not the person I called my friend? Am I not the person that was there for you? This should be! My reality fled into the light, and escaped me once again. With hurt feeling, and many tricks up my sleeve, I decide to end my search before I go blind. I come in search of new friends now, but it is only a scare. Someone will just take my reality away. The ground, like my lost friends, just won't be there. Catch me, I am falling. And to my friends past- Sleep with one eye open. --MBZ From Charon@yabbs Sat Apr 16 08:36:32 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: I Would... Date: Sat Apr 16 08:36:32 1994 I Would die.... I would kill myself... I would lie.... Iwould fall dead.... I would shout... I would scream... If only you knew, Iwould do anything, To prove that i love you... -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Sat Apr 16 08:43:35 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Blind? Date: Sat Apr 16 08:43:35 1994 I can imagine your looks, by the way of your voice, as it whispers "i love you" everynight before i sleep. For then i am not blind.. for then i can see.. but i am also not very lucky, for i only dream once in a while When i wake up, your voice is gone.. you are gone, and i'm sure if you checked, a piece of my heart will be gone too.. My heart is only blind to love, which makes you "true love" Therefore i will give my sight to you Tonight when i sleep, i pray that i dream, for all i have is that image of you the piece of my heart was worth it, for that moment that i saw your face. Irecall running my fingers through your hair... then being jolted awake.. and crying myself to sleep... one last time..... -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Sat Apr 16 08:48:44 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Eyes Date: Sat Apr 16 08:48:44 1994 Some might say, that eyes are portals to the soul. Ithink my eyes, reflect the pain that's taken toll. Some say that eyes, hold the secrets of themselves, I'd say my eyes are piercing, and hold the mytery that i delve. Some say eyes, Are the key that unlocks the being. My eyes say "i love you" but..hey....they're only for seeing. Some say eyes, are cold as winter snow, Your eyes scream "stop" while mine scream "go" Some say eyes, are like an everlasting kiss, My eyes know when you leave, they know the love thats missed... -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Sat Apr 16 08:52:59 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Go Ahead..Pick it up... Date: Sat Apr 16 08:52:59 1994 Yuo said you wouldn't but i think you will you don't have the heart, to be w/ me and sit still... I'm sure that you'll do it, but i don't really know why if you don't see the pain, take one look in my eyes. Do you do it on purpose? i really don't know If you're not going to love me.. Then why not let go? It's not as often, as it was before.. But it hurts me now, and will hurt me more! A faint little ring, you couldn't have known.. go ahead, I Love you, and pick up the phone.... -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Sat Apr 16 08:56:03 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: no title Date: Sat Apr 16 08:56:03 1994 When time is frozen it's cold as ice it moves real slow, but not real nice. When love is time, it's frozen cold always tempting, but never sold... When love is frozen, it's still as night always groping for a flash of sight... -Charon- From jujubee@yabbs Sat Apr 16 12:06:43 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: love poems Date: Sat Apr 16 12:06:43 1994 gosh...your love poems leave me speechless.... From ching@yabbs Sat Apr 16 21:04:39 1994 From: ching@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: no title Date: Sat Apr 16 21:04:39 1994 very nice. I'm impressed. Here's a little ditty form my own archives. Please give me any criticism about it that you wish--my feelings will not be hurt. It's incomplete--I think. Perhaps it's just right. Perhaps it should be incomplete. Let me know what you think Thanx. ching Surely there is danger in every human life. Certainly we must walk on some sort of fault line. Indeed our safety is tenuous. Mortality defines us, Logic chains us, and chaos will rule us. I am ignorant for trying to learn. s From ching@yabbs Sat Apr 16 21:12:53 1994 From: ching@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: lonliness Date: Sat Apr 16 21:12:53 1994 "Can you kill it with a knife." "Well then can you shoot it?" "Have you tried to hang it.. ...Stomp it?...Kick it?" --No. no, son, just find your true friends. Hold close to them and trust them. Learn to love God and America and your mother and warm your heart with their presence in your life. Bring good will to all and hate no one. do all of this and you will be lonely no more. You won't ever have to think of loneliness.-- "But Father, How do you get rid of it...." --(silence)-- From Deaska@yabbs Sun Apr 17 06:09:22 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: kewlbeans!! Date: Sun Apr 17 06:09:22 1994 yup, I'm with juju on that one... wonderful reading, wonderful wonderful wonderful wonderful wonderful!!! D' *cough* Out damn virus! From Charon@yabbs Sun Apr 17 19:09:20 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Sun Apr 17 19:09:20 1994 The spark!! the Spark!! how it jumps and flies, and decieves our soul, and clogs our eyes... The Torch!! The torch!!! Hear it sing a song, a tune of anger, that's never wrong... The Fire!!! The Fire!!! as it climbs the wall, with hypnotic roar, you will follow it's call.. Disaster!! Disaster!!! All across the land, One flick of my Bic, for disaster grand.... -Charon- From Natalie@yabbs Sun Apr 17 23:30:09 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: ] Date: Sun Apr 17 23:30:09 1994 hmmmmm....sounds like beavis to me.... *smirk* (you can hit me for that) Other than that, I like it. But don't use multiple !!!s, that really annoys me when i read poetry.... nice imagery :) natalie From Hellion@yabbs Mon Apr 18 11:14:48 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The First Time... Date: Mon Apr 18 11:14:48 1994 The night was romantic *we had a fight* Everything was perfect *nothing had gone right* I was prepared *a boy with a dream* I knew what I was doing *i was so scared* A candlelight dinner *i ate alone* Beautiful music *my parents were home* A magnificent motel *a good friend's house* She was loud with pleasuer *she was quiet as a mouse* I held you all night, in my arms *she left right away* Our souls had mended strongly *our hearts drifted apart* I became a proud young man *i cowered in my bed* A felt a release of my soul *i wished that i'd been dead* *i cried all night long* --Ed Z Hellion From Hellion@yabbs Mon Apr 18 11:16:00 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Rape if a mind Date: Mon Apr 18 11:16:00 1994 I once was a man, innocent and young Feeling free from life's woes I once was a man who didn't judge I took every person for who they were I met you, my best friend You taught me about the world I met you, my teacher I labeled people and put them in boxes I once was a man who belived in God I went to church, never questioned I once was a man of faith On my way to heaven I met you, my new God You said you were my Jesus, the Devil's son I met you, my end of hope Now there is no heaven or hell, just eternal blackness I once was a man who knew right from wrong I knew my values I was never confused I once was a man without any hatred I never would fight, sweet words would fix it all I met you my phase inverter Right became wrong, all else was right I met you, Pushing Me Down I wouldn't fight, You Made Me Yell I once was a man without desires Sex was a thing saved for my wife I once was a man who cared for my neighbor Every man would die when it was time I met you, the flame of the fires You Pushed Me Into Her, Pain In My Heart I met you, the black man of hate You Held My Arm Steady, While My Blade Slit Her Neck I once was a man who cared for himself Never would I try to hurt myself I once was a man who was scared of death I spent my time praying for life I met you, my ignorant master You Held My Arms As You Slit My Wrists I met you, A man without humor YOU LAUGHED AS I BLED TO DEATH... -- Ed Z Hellion From Kirkland@yabbs Mon Apr 18 12:22:20 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: Hellion@yabbs Subject: re: The Rape if a mind Date: Mon Apr 18 12:22:20 1994 I LOVE IT!!!!!!! (That oughta shake up the riff-raff) p.s.-- Who's it about? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Yxx Pxxx Bxxxxxx! From Kirkland@yabbs Mon Apr 18 12:26:37 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Losing Control Date: Mon Apr 18 12:26:37 1994 "Pull the trigger. Pull the trigger." A voice urges me in a whisper. I close my eyes to pray but my rage never fades away. I never saw the writing on the wall 'cause you backed me up to it. Well guess what, babe? You finally blew it. A gun in one hand and a clip in the other, joined together make me one bad mother. The gun trembles as I contemplate future sins. Good-bye Heaven. Here's where Hell begins... (I know, too many cliches.) -Kirkland From Natalie@yabbs Mon Apr 18 13:00:55 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: hellion@yabbs Subject: re: The Rape if a mind Date: Mon Apr 18 13:00:55 1994 I like it :) I should try to write some more poetry... I'm outof practice... Natalie From Charon@yabbs Mon Apr 18 20:12:59 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Mon Apr 18 20:12:59 1994 Long ago...when people were free..free of the bondage that enslaved every human being...it was then that we were free of mind, body, and spirit. and when we roamed the earth, as one race, as one body, and as one family. Never forget the ancient way..for it is the way that we were meant to be...and the way we will all return....someday... -Charon- From anonimus@yabbs Tue Apr 19 00:33:10 1994 From: anonimus@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Wolves are Alone Date: Tue Apr 19 00:33:10 1994 Scintilating sapient eyes of the night Encourage me to follow the path not trodden Pass amongst barriers-- dewed grass, chaotic thatches and barbed fences This canine creature of the moon leads Tempting indications of liberty living-- uncommited not condemned Run wild into the fields of dawn Escape the scent of men Blushing sky as the night is rolled back for a day Sip of the Earth's tap at any nearby stream Trek across terain in any direction chosen or desired Recollect the dream-- noisy cubes of light Humans in social form passing I have awakened to recess the sapient to rid of conformity I pursue on, nothing in my way alone. From Hellion@yabbs Tue Apr 19 02:25:39 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: anonimus@yabbs Subject: re: Wolves are Alone Date: Tue Apr 19 02:25:39 1994 I loved it, bravo. Anyhow, I think that everyone deserves a comment huh? I really did like it. -- Hellion From Charon@yabbs Tue Apr 19 17:49:18 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Tue Apr 19 17:49:18 1994 From the valley of death, to the warm ocean blue.. i swim thruogh the night.. calling out for you.. As i climb the mountain, calling out your name.. all i hear is my echo and it's always the same.. All my life is a puzzle, and you the missing piece.. but now i care less.. you can't affect me in the least.. As i lie on my bed.. in a final embrace.. with a frown on my mouth, and tears on my face.. -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Tue Apr 19 21:41:36 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Tue Apr 19 21:41:36 1994 In a land of evil, there is only one good, there is only one peace, there is only one justice, there is only one youth...... there is no joking, there is no openess, there is only you. The gap is widening..the gap is of reach.... The gap is you. The ring on your finger proves the point..it proves the lies, it proves the guilt..of a thousand ages..and the hate buried in the sand..for the next generation to come. Think before you act..think before you lie, and think before you do...For you are the mystery..that no one can unravel but yourself.... -Charon- From hawke@yabbs Wed Apr 20 03:28:40 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Wed Apr 20 03:28:40 1994 My friend where have you gone? You never said goodbye or when you would return. was it that you were mad at me for not saying i cared? For , if that was the case i had tried, but the words just wouldnt come out. I wonder now if i will someday have the chance to tell you that i really did care. i guess i will never know for you have left to i know not where. in loving memmmory of Daniel ST. Onge a friend who didnt know i cared From Hellion@yabbs Wed Apr 20 11:05:14 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Wed Apr 20 11:05:14 1994 Everything is falling apart all around me, in my heart Is my sky falling down? I need to get out of this town. My grades are slipping my mind is flipping my concentration is leaving my class professors seathing What am I to do? I'm without you my life's obsession my worst depression Three more weeks to go all the things I have to know while my brain is exploding my heart is imploding Help me I'm falling it is you I am calling my life is slipping away let me know today My friend are you true? are you depressed too? all the pressure, all the stress this is the time to be my best? Sleepless nights endless fights God help me I'm losing the one I've been choosing She's slipping away but trying to stay do I marry? or do I bury? My heart's afire with wild desire my classes are demanding please try to be understanding Forgive me for my faults dear I don't know what I'm doing here I come to you when I feel blue School will soon end I'll say goodbye to all my friends and spend my summer in your arms *with your love and all your charms* -- Ed Z Hellion From Kirkland@yabbs Wed Apr 20 12:19:27 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: oopsie@yabbs Subject: I said I would... Date: Wed Apr 20 12:19:27 1994 Chapter ??: A Third Person Perspective The SODa Can - [ The Final Chapter or The Last Swallow ] "If only for a moment, hold on to the dreams that we had." - Winger (Miles Away) "She stares at the sky, wondering why the night isn't telling her, 'believe him'. If he could only read to her the pages of his heart, she could see they feel the same." - Winger (Under One Condition) The summer had passed quickly for these two young friends who where fast becoming more than friends. She was eighteen and he had turned nineteen two months prior. She was in the blossom of youth, he at the crossroads of adulthood. They were both ready for this night, their last night together, for the next week brought on their departures for different colleges. Emotions and expectations had been building for these last few months, as feelings were expressed and secrets were shared- bonding their lives through shared experiences. The clock chimed nine o'clock and they decided that it was time to leave her house. After a short drive to town in which small talk was the topic of discussion, the couple stopped at the local quick stop, Mr. B's, for a six-pack of Dew and a tank of gas. The couple continued to cruise Bloomfield for the next two hours, occasionally stopping to talk with other people out cruising and friends that were on their way to the dance in Hartington. The talk revolved around high school- the normal gossip of nazi teachers and current dating liaisons. The midnight hour approached and he suggested that they go to the Edge of Heaven, a drinking party location nowadays, but back then it was peaceful on the weekends and provided more than enough couples the privacy to become lovers. She agreed. The Edge of Heaven provided a stunning view of about a hundred square miles of Nebraska. Hiding off from a minimum maintenance road that epitomized the word minimum, it also offered a sense of perspective. The lights seemed so far off, yet the one you were with was right there next to you. With this in mind the couple, now standing quite close together, turned to one another and kissed. He walked to the trunk of the car and returned with a blanket. Together, they laid the blanket out on the freshly cut hay stalks. The tiny stalks gave way at the slightest push, relinquishing a padded place of rest once they had sat down. They kissed once more, this time longer and more passionately than the last. His hands caressed her hair as they stared into each other's eyes. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you, too," she whispered back. He began to massage the back of her neck and they continued kissing. She laid down on the blanket and he laid next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as they drifted off into sleep... She awoke six hours later to a sun that had already taken well into the sky. He was still lying next to her, but was awake and had been for most of the night. "You didn't...," she looked down and saw that nothing had changed. "We didn't...?" she said as she rolled over towards him. "Of course not," he replied. "I didn't want to wake you or take advantage of you, I just wanted to wake up with you in my arms, knowing that you love me as much as I love you." She began to cry and threw her arms around him. She had never before found someone who cared so much for her and her feelings. They held each other and kissed until she decided that coming home at noon wouldn't go over very well with her parents. He picked the blanket up off the ground and tossed it back into the trunk. They took in one last view and left the Edge of Heaven as they had come, as close friends. This night had taught him that sometimes love is looking out for the other instead of yourself, and she had learned how to trust again. This was their last night together, and as that summer faded into memories, their paths etched out into separate ways. Even though they had their chance at becoming lovers, they remained friends. And it is up to you to believe that it was better that way. 7:52.53 A.M. April 23, 1993 It's funny how one year later she still doesn't realize, and I no longer can... Dreams and reality, such distant cousins, it seems... -Kirkland, the reminiscent... From Kirkland@yabbs Wed Apr 20 12:56:56 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: Kirkland@yabbs Subject: Talking to myself... Date: Wed Apr 20 12:56:56 1994 "Who knows why butterflies fly, yet caterpillars seem so damn dumb." The following is "Into Me", one of my insane ramblings... Then in the mourning came the reign. A kazoo that blue and a friend of few, I awoke to your eyes and questioned your lies. For some I ask not, for I know of your pogo, but I can question your desires, for your fly is not the only thing that is down. A caress of your mind leads to your toil as I supplant the voices that recommend your turmoil. I push away doubt as I plunder your desires; I steal away your heart and fill it with what transpires. You squeal at the feel and trip at the nana's wrath, flailing like hell on a once golden path. The threads of time have tangled once again, bringing you to a halt in the wallowings of sin. Displaced in this world of blistering hate, I ask once again, "Do you think it's too late?" A swim in Quiddity, euphoric as a time in the womb, I ask once again, "Do you think this is my tomb?" Your vices are numerous-- your vices shove toothpicks beneath my tender skin. You laugh, you're in heat. You win and I'm beat. But as the quicksands of your own dreams begin to pull you under, your nightmarish hells push you deep Into Me. ----And if you thought that was whackeded, try this one: ("watching") Sleep. As consciousness wanes, my will reigns on this shell of dust you call your body. Your mind in its toil slips deep into my soul as your thoughts wink out in flights of fancy, soaring high into your dreams and out into the night. Errogenous lies and carnal ties never succeed in binding {mind and body} or {thoughts and flesh}. Your mind is my playground, your body-- my toy. I ask you now, isn't saying "no" just a ploy? Can you shrug off my charm with a bat of your eyes? Can you push me away, knowing I have been inside? Can you say you don't [want to] after just getting a glimpse? Can you say you don't [need to] after feeling my kiss? With a wave of a wand in a wash of thoughts long gone, thinking becomes the unreality that it really is. How can you say that it scares you when it is all that you want to do. You want to surrender, but you've only been taught to fight. You look at me, and I into you. You want to see me, I want you too. I started Pushing. Thoughts collide in a jumbled mess as I swim into your mind. Wafting serenely into your emotions held so tight, so guarded, so feared, so easily haunting to those I hold dear. You seek the hand to guide you and the grip to keep you. I provide the foundation for your towering dreams, never shifting to let you loose at the seams. Ahh, sweet sanity... my friend, my fuck, my knock upon the door that leads deeper down, into you, into me-- separated by only a span of air and preconceived notions. Letting loose you fall to my side; I'd lift you up, but you're my ride. Together we climb, together we climb, together we reach that top, but never stop climbing. The night hides what what I feel, but the night always turns to day, and from you I hide only your fears and your foes, knowing they hurt you. I stand alert, guarding your innocent smile, watching. watching. --So whaddaya think? Any comments would help with my counseling sessions. I've got more where these came from, but only one or two really good ones. Worth posting? -Kirkland, the master of "the degenerate art of MindFuck" From ching@yabbs Wed Apr 20 18:21:25 1994 From: ching@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: asdfjkl; Date: Wed Apr 20 18:21:25 1994 Lovely bitter approaches me/she is a shotgun/she keeps me home at night/I feel her in me moving about/a slow agitation I'm at odds with America From ching@yabbs Wed Apr 20 18:30:19 1994 From: ching@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: asdfjkl' Date: Wed Apr 20 18:30:19 1994 I prepared for this on a fly speck on my chin in a town north of the city traveling south towards hell or atleastasubtle form of this otherwise aformentioned entity in a used car on a rainy day it was my first time with a dark cloud overwatching the whole damn thing in ten years that I thought back to that awful day when I was eight and i sat by the pool to young to think as I did and for the first time with a clear feminine sky hovering closely over me it teased my desire with a single thought and sent the rest of the automabilic days of mine under the sun as Solominsaid: "Vanity, vanity...(and the meaningless rest)!" and for my awful revelation, God sent:"What are you going to do forever...forever...forever?" Since then I am frantic From ching@yabbs Wed Apr 20 18:37:57 1994 From: ching@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: icharus Date: Wed Apr 20 18:37:57 1994 here's a paraprhase of a poem I wrote a few years ago when I was sixteen. Feedback is invited regardless of content. I tried to keep it as close to the original form as possible, but i can't gaurantee that i remember it exactly. Here it goes: Icharus Dead. Who once was a waxwork kite (Melting under the sun as we all do in a much subtler way) Against the sun And for a moment it was pictureperfect Forever immune to the turning of the earth so, whaddya think? From ching@yabbs Wed Apr 20 18:42:31 1994 From: ching@yabbs To: Hellion@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Apr 20 18:42:31 1994 I hear ya man on that one. I think your really on to something with this poem. Perhaps some toying around with the rythm, meter, rhyme scheme, et... would help even more. A very good job as is though. ching From Charon@yabbs Wed Apr 20 19:05:42 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Hellion@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Apr 20 19:05:42 1994 Cool poem!!!!! It is very different than most of your others... I love it!!! :) *hug* -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Wed Apr 20 19:13:58 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Kirkland@yabbs Subject: re: Talking to myself... Date: Wed Apr 20 19:13:58 1994 Cool story...sounds just like my insane ramblings...LOVE IT!!!!! keep up the fucked stories that only you and i can understand...:) -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Wed Apr 20 19:26:16 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: Charon Date: Wed Apr 20 19:26:16 1994 The mind is only full of hate, while the brain is decended, the body thinks of fate.. The body has been mended.. the soul is ashen grey.. The body yet defended.. As i think of what to say... i wonder what to do, and how i'm gonna pay for what i did to you. i doubted your heart, i knew not what to do.. For the times we are apart are blamed entirely on me, for my attitude is tart... If you could only see.. My heart was meant for you, no matter how i be.. There's nothing you can do, the cuckoo has already flew... -Charon- From Hellion@yabbs Wed Apr 20 20:01:07 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: Charon Date: Wed Apr 20 20:01:07 1994 YES!!! I love it. This place is getting better all the time huh? -- Hellion From Charon@yabbs Wed Apr 20 20:16:00 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: Charon Date: Wed Apr 20 20:16:00 1994 You said it Hellion!!!! Anger When my head starts to spin, and clouds begin to whirl, And my thoughts are jumbled up, in a neverending swirl.. i only try to relax, read a book or watch tv. or call someone who's close to my heart, no matter who it be.. When anger gets the best of me.. i try to keep it inside, i secretly store it away, Just a cog with in my pride.. -Charon- From Natalie@yabbs Thu Apr 21 01:56:45 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: Talking to myself... Date: Thu Apr 21 01:56:45 1994 Charon...I understand 'em too...*whine* Maybe I'll postsome of *my* ramblings one of these days..i've got some interesting ones... (to say the least) natalie From treefrog@yabbs Sun Apr 24 01:28:38 1994 From: treefrog@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Talking to myself... Date: Sun Apr 24 01:28:38 1994 Boy...you guys have some LLLLAAAAAMMMEEEEE poems!!!!!!!!!!!! *much laughter* -froggy- From Hellion@yabbs Sun Apr 24 01:57:15 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: treefrog@yabbs Subject: re: Talking to myself... Date: Sun Apr 24 01:57:15 1994 In message re: Talking to myself..., treefrog said: > Boy...you guys have some LLLLAAAAAMMMEEEEE poems!!!!!!!!!!!! > *much laughter* > -froggy- Hey why don't you post some then and show us what it is "supposed" to be like? -- Hellion From Natalie@yabbs Sun Apr 24 02:50:12 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: treefrog@yabbs Subject: re: Talking to myself... Date: Sun Apr 24 02:50:12 1994 hmmm...i was unaware that i needed your approval for my poetry, treefrog. I'll try to keep you in mind next time I'm upset and need to write something so I'll feel better...would you be so kind as to give me a list of what you think a non lame poem is? I'd really appreciate the help..since I apparently need it.... Natalie From Cat@yabbs Sun Apr 24 10:55:20 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Talking to myself... Date: Sun Apr 24 10:55:20 1994 *hugs* heheheh From treefrog@yabbs Sun Apr 24 20:39:55 1994 From: treefrog@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Sun Apr 24 20:39:55 1994 Ha!!!!!!!you would all like to hear some real poetry....well you sure should not look here....Hellion, Charon, nat, kirkland, ha..tell me one thing nice bout these chumps poetry...... *HaHaHaHaHa* -later suckers....- From hawke@yabbs Sun Apr 24 22:42:56 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: treefrog@yabbs Subject: Date: Sun Apr 24 22:42:56 1994 put up or shuttup frog if you cant back up your braggin with some "real" poetry then step aside and let thos that can do so and there is a hell of alot of talent in this room and to save some trouble ill admit that im only a dabler From robtelee@yabbs Mon Apr 25 00:16:55 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: reply to 186 Date: Mon Apr 25 00:16:55 1994 Thank you for expressing the feelings of a majority who use this room ! Sadly, I cannot compose poetry myself but DO enjoy some of the work posted here. I agree that treefrog should put or shut up. Just remember, "Those who can, do and those who can't, brag about it. I remain, Your Obd'nt Svnt robtelee From Natalie@yabbs Mon Apr 25 00:33:53 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: treefrog@yabbs Subject: your idiocy Date: Mon Apr 25 00:33:53 1994 you, sir, are a moron. you quite obviously cannot write poetry so you see fit to take your frustration at being thwarted out on the rest of us. Just because you're creatively impotent is no reason to make a fool out of yourself. A little bit of advice: grow up. And btw, my name is Natalie, not nat. Kindly remember that. Natalie From ching@yabbs Mon Apr 25 14:21:08 1994 From: ching@yabbs To: treefrog@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Mon Apr 25 14:21:08 1994 Well, so far what i've seen--and hopoefully what i've contributed--really is pretty good. Sure, we all need some work: perhaps a little more experimentation with rhyme and meter and a little more self invesitgation would help. however, I think things look alright around here. Too bad you won't offer some of your own for comparison. -chiing From ching@yabbs Mon Apr 25 14:30:09 1994 From: ching@yabbs To: ching@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Mon Apr 25 14:30:09 1994 ok. everyone, I think we've humored treefrog's little "devil's advocate" play enouhggh now. It certainly is nice to shake things up now and then, but let's get back to the(cliche)meat and potatoes of this message base; let's see some poems and stories--yum!yum! Oh, but aren't I the hypocrtie today. I can't find today's poem that I was going to post. Shit. oh , wait here's one, check it out. Lesbians Are in my brain Idon't know why thinks feel same And if you asked me to think real hard I would feel two lobes licking very bizarre From Kirkland@yabbs Mon Apr 25 15:10:48 1994 From: Kirkland@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Retrospect Date: Mon Apr 25 15:10:48 1994 I never claimed to be a poet, but I occasionally write poems... Retrospect 11-30-93 11:04.59 P.M. Times seem to be catching up with me. A waltz down memory lane, a slow dance with the devil himself. Fate? Cruel design or happenstance? I see the edge of the cliff, and it's calling to me. The old times rise to the fore. I find myself listening to the music from so long ago, back from when I was young, innocent, so vulnerable. And this road is one I don't want to be on. I find myself strolling past the old haunts, a pale husk of a man is all that remains of the boy I once was. It wasn't my house, nor hers for that matter. They tore it down, I guess it was some time ago. The fresh air of spring. Young and in love. She smiled and we talked. I took her to bed. Three, no, almost four years ago. Why can't I just let it go? It wasn't meant to be. Why the hell should it last? For every chain I cast aside two take its place. Oh, how they drag on me. I am repulsed by their implications, yet I still find myself welcoming them to my flesh. Looking back, my mind starts to fill in the words and echoes back to me d..a..t... r..a..p... Two E's lost at the ends- just like her and I, lost, at this end. "You little wimp," I cry to the night, "you can't even say it, can you?" I stumble back to the past- I know it so well from these unwelcomed visits. I'm suddenly lost in a sea of sorrow. She didn't say yes, but she didn't say no. That made it all right at the time. But now it makes no sense. I shove the dagger into my belly, yet feel no pain. I look down and find no blood, just another masquerade. Why can't this pain ever end? Why must I relive it again and again? The way I felt that night is hard to descibe. I felt young, in control, and a little wild. I'd waited for a while, and just wanted some more. I never knew what pain I'd cause by closing that door. I sometimes wish I could have my friend's getaways from life, consuming booze, losing myself in the intrigue of flames- but my sin is the one sin I can never live down. I lost my innocence and my morals when my guard was down. This creature within me called "desire" lies shamed. So much for chivalry, I guess it's out the door. She said she loved me, even after what I did. Looking back I now see why we lasted just a few months more. I'll get over it. (liar!) It really didn't mean that much. (how could you!) She's probably forgotten it. (you bastard!) Did it matter anyway? (Damn you!) Damn you! No big deal. Damn you. Damn you. Damn you. - - - - - - - - - - Ahh, well... It sux to be young and stupid, and it's even worse to be old and regretful... This is just one view of that night, I guess you'd have to ask her to find out what really happened... -Kirkland, the non-poet..... From SPARKLER@yabbs Mon Apr 25 15:30:44 1994 From: SPARKLER@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Tears Date: Mon Apr 25 15:30:44 1994 A crystaline shape of perfect form slowly carresses. It travels a path of lonlieness. By the mountain and over the plain it goes. Soon it cames to an edge, where it hovers, quivering, then plunging to its DOOM. Who shall miss this shape of pure beauty? None, for more shall follow. From Skywise@yabbs Mon Apr 25 16:43:23 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: your idiocy Date: Mon Apr 25 16:43:23 1994 I agree with you Natalie. I have no idea who treefrog is or what its intentions are/were, but just to play Devil's advocate :) is it possible that what treefrog has posted is in fact poetry? is not poetry meant to evoke an emotional response like that? I have no idea what poetry is exactly. I'm just wondering. *giggle* Your friend, Skywise From Orion*@yabbs Mon Apr 25 19:49:57 1994 From: Orion*@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: your idiocy Date: Mon Apr 25 19:49:57 1994 In message re: your idiocy, Skywise said: > is it possible that what treefrog has posted is in fact poetry? is not > poetry meant to evoke an emotional response like that? > I have no idea what poetry is exactly. I'm just wondering. *giggle* > Your friend, > Skywise That is pretty deep skywise, I guess that we never thought of it that way. But if that is his attempt a poetry, it isn't any better than anything else that I have seen here. ;-) -Orion From Cat@yabbs Mon Apr 25 21:08:57 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: A poem Date: Mon Apr 25 21:08:57 1994 Well, since everyone has been posting some very beautiful but very sombre poetry, I though I would post something a bit more lighthearted. The cute little pink bunnies skip gleefully through the garden. They are joined by the cute purple teddy bears. And the darling wittle birdies. Tripping hither tripping thither through the happy little garden of Life. The sun is shining over head, the wittle birdies are twittering away Happy little songs about how happy they are in this cutsie oootsie wittle world. The bunnies roll around in the grass..... They are joined by more cute bunnies (the result of the aforementioned romp in the grass...gotta love those bunnies) @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ (see the cute little cotton tails of all the adorable little bunnies?) The teddy bears blow puffs of dandelions all over this joyful little garden. Little did they know that the dandelion seeds had been tampered with by Mother Nature, who was on PMS and couldn't deal with all this damn cuteness. The dandelions grow rapidly as weeds always do. Here a dandy there a dandy everywhere a dandy dandy............ They strangle the teddy bears. They stifle the song of the ittle wittle birdies. They suck the will to live from the mutilplying bunnies. Mother Nature, feeling much better having taken her aggressions out on this sticky sweet little world, looks on the remains of the garden of Life, smiles to herself, takes two advil, and goes to bed to sleep till menopause kicks in. :) =^^= From treefrog@yabbs Mon Apr 25 21:09:26 1994 From: treefrog@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: your idiocy Date: Mon Apr 25 21:09:26 1994 Well...now my fine feathered friends....maybe you have grasped the REAL meaning of poetry after all....yet it escapes me as to why you never wrote a poem on your rage toward my post?????? now that would have been good poetry.... but alas..no, the wandering, and ever so drunk poet, yearns for feeling, and response, and a shoulder to hold on to when falling... yes falling down torawds the deep pits of the netherworld....screaming as they fell...cursing as they fell...yet never reaching out to the hand of god...ever steady, ever present, ever ready....to hold on and never let go...Treefrog continues his search...continues his fall...and continues to scream and reach...at the same time..yet opposite seconds.. -Froggy- PS. This base is not all that bad..why are there so little amts of poetry on it? PPS. did someone make this? From htoaster@yabbs Mon Apr 25 22:55:10 1994 From: htoaster@yabbs To: treefrog@yabbs Subject: re: your idiocy Date: Mon Apr 25 22:55:10 1994 In message re: your idiocy, treefrog said: > PS. This base is not all that bad..why are there so little amts of poetry > on it? well, considering that the board is probably less than a month old (i didn't feel like checking my creation date, but i have a feeling it was about a month ago) 196 messages seems pretty good to my (and lots of them seem to have poetry)... alex From robtelee@yabbs Tue Apr 26 11:40:29 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: Kirkland@yabbs Subject: RE: Retrospect Date: Tue Apr 26 11:40:29 1994 you build slowly and then hit us with a sucker punch...very powerful stuff...would she look on your behavior the same way ? It made me think of what I should have not done in my own past...Thanks.... robtelee From robtelee@yabbs Tue Apr 26 11:43:18 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: treefrog@yabbs Subject: your idiocy Date: Tue Apr 26 11:43:18 1994 better, much better....:) Now that causes one to think... From pixy@yabbs Tue Apr 26 13:15:43 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: A poem Date: Tue Apr 26 13:15:43 1994 that was funny; i'm going to read it again and again adn again. write more! pixy From temp@yabbs Tue Apr 26 15:46:26 1994 From: temp@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: da wittle cutsie poem Date: Tue Apr 26 15:46:26 1994 Only from your twisted little sense of humor and your ever adventure seeking mind could such a poem evolve...gotta love ya Tammie :) You're lucky most of us do *grin* *nudge* -Dest' :) P.S. (yeah, tis me...I got tossed off or soething or other and had to change to this nick :) Beats me, I know nothing about computers, as you well know *grin*) From NJDEVIL@yabbs Tue Apr 26 16:38:12 1994 From: NJDEVIL@yabbs To: cat@yabbs Subject: re: A poem Date: Tue Apr 26 16:38:12 1994 cute! I like it! Mom Nature on the prowl! Giggle From Lacey@yabbs Tue Apr 26 22:04:17 1994 From: Lacey@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Love me! Date: Tue Apr 26 22:04:17 1994 Hey guys, how are you all doing? I really need your help. I'm dating this really incredible guy who treats me like gold and I want to tell him how I feel and I don't know quite how to tell him. I thought a little message would be nice. Can you guys tell me exactly what you think on this? Everytime... Everytime I close my eyes the image of your face appears Everytime I hear your voice my body begins to tingle Everytime I see your smile I think of what you mean to me Everytime you touch me you always bring me pleasure I think of the time that we have spent together and I feel all the joy that you have brought me I never want it to end So long I have searched for the love of my life and finally I have found it...That Love is YOU!!! Everytime I see your face my heart fills with love I can never think of life without you because you are my life Everything I do I do for you I think of our good times both past and present and I think of what the future holds for us together I wany nothing more than to spend my life loving you and only you. I need you in my life. I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!! Okay guys, what did you think? Lacey :) From Charon@yabbs Wed Apr 27 00:07:37 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Lacey@yabbs Subject: re: Love me! Date: Wed Apr 27 00:07:37 1994 I can sympathize w/ you!!! i know what it is like to be that much in love...also to be that much out of love..it goes eiether way..loved the poem!!!!!! -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Wed Apr 27 01:19:28 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Wed Apr 27 01:19:28 1994 go to him my child..go and embrace him. leave him....go ahead and leave him steal her heart..wth no remorse...and as easily as stealing a pack of gum.. never give it back..never even try,,for you will fail..miserably. so go ahead try..and fail..and break the only thing that holds meaning..ME. -Charon- From Cat@yabbs Wed Apr 27 09:40:56 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: temp@yabbs Subject: re: da wittle cutsie poem Date: Wed Apr 27 09:40:56 1994 In message da wittle cutsie poem, temp said: > P.S. (yeah, tis me...I got tossed off or soething or other and had to > change to this nick :) Beats me, I know nothing about computers, as you > well know *grin*) Temp huh? Hmmmmmm she goes from being Fate to being Fahrenheit. :) You're pretty funny Dest. :) =^^= From JasonLee@yabbs Wed Apr 27 13:35:34 1994 From: JasonLee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Time for sadness Date: Wed Apr 27 13:35:34 1994 Hi, um, I just found out that Ralph Ellison died, but I don't know the exact date it happened. Anyway, I'm pretty much just miserable at the news. I just wanted to make that known. JasonLee From Natalie@yabbs Wed Apr 27 13:37:16 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: JasonLee@yabbs Subject: re: Time for sadness Date: Wed Apr 27 13:37:16 1994 *sob* almost as bad as when Robert Heinlein dies *sob* From pixy@yabbs Wed Apr 27 21:01:38 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Lacey@yabbs Subject: re: Love me! Date: Wed Apr 27 21:01:38 1994 I don't know. Most guys aren't big on poetry--you would be very possibly wasting your breath on your significant other. Guys aren't the romantic creatures all too often--at least in the modern sense of romance. I know that when i get poems from my girlfriend I appreciate them and what goes into them, but they really don't throttle me. Many men, myself included, have passions, indeed, but for things more abstract than romance and boyfriend/girlfriend relationships. I love my girlfriend, but i don't passionately love her. Not so much that her poetry would move me--especially if it were directed towards me. So, c0onsider my above ramblings in your descision, but when it comes right down to it, I say do whateber feels right. I know for certain I am not like many others. pixy From pixy@yabbs Wed Apr 27 21:04:53 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Apr 27 21:04:53 1994 that is an interesting poem you posted: the one tht begins " go to himm...". I think that is the first poem of yours that doesn't follow the a, b, a, b, rhyme scheme. Why is that? Don't think I'm telling you how to write; i'm just wondering about the significance of the change in style and its purpose. pixy From Natalie@yabbs Wed Apr 27 21:48:48 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Apr 27 21:48:48 1994 how nice, an intelligent critic....much better than some ofthe stuff we've been getting around here lately *applauds*...Hmmm...I should try to write some more stuff one of these days...been a while since I posted anything literary... Natalie From Hellion@yabbs Wed Apr 27 22:03:18 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Love me! Date: Wed Apr 27 22:03:18 1994 In message re: Love me!, pixy said: > I don't know. Most guys aren't big on poetry--you would be very possibly > wasting your breath on your significant other. Guys aren't the romantic > creatures all too often--at least in the modern sense of romance. I know I have to dissagree with you here. I am a very romantic guy and love to write poetry to, and recieve it from my girlfriend. From what I have noticed with most of my friends who are guys, they actually do enjoy stuff like that, but usually have to keep too macho of an image to admit it. -- Hellion From pixy@yabbs Wed Apr 27 23:06:03 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Apr 27 23:06:03 1994 yeah, post! i love to see how others write. it helps me improve alot. and don't forget to comment on everything you see. pixy p.s. i will post as soon as i come up with some more stuff, i'm just not feeling it right now. From pixy@yabbs Wed Apr 27 23:10:10 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Hellion@yabbs Subject: re: Love me! Date: Wed Apr 27 23:10:10 1994 that is great. i was hoping not to steroetype all guys with my comments, i just know how i feel. to parapphrase my earlier post: not too many are like me. I don't have a macho problem, i just don't find an interest in all the love and romance. I have greater passions for other things, though women certainly do evoke unbelieveable passion from me, too. i just don;'t like all the mushy stuff. pixy From pixy@yabbs Thu Apr 28 10:36:08 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Thu Apr 28 10:36:08 1994 got me a chainsaw Let them eat Splinters I;m cutting this piece for me History has taught me that any good cutter can receive the wonderful and most Splendiferous protestant blessings and those of the Savoir(who, afterall, died on a piece of driftwood)and(all things being temporary) will surely smile down upon me destruction. Amen From warlord@yabbs Thu Apr 28 22:10:56 1994 From: warlord@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Romance Date: Thu Apr 28 22:10:56 1994 Pixy I must agree with what you said. I also think most guys, do not care that much for poetry. But then again that is my opinion. I have more of a "sexual" rush from flying than I do from being with a female. Anyway that is my four cents, as much as that is worth. From JasonLee@yabbs Thu Apr 28 22:29:00 1994 From: JasonLee@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Time for sadness Date: Thu Apr 28 22:29:00 1994 In message re: Time for sadness, Natalie said: > *sob* almost as bad as when Robert Heinlein dies *sob* They are not even in the same league. Although I like and respect Heinlein's writing, Ellison in a single novel managed to encapsulate the whole experience of being an American, with all its complexities and nuances. JasonLee From Mariusz@yabbs Thu Apr 28 22:44:19 1994 From: Mariusz@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Mariusz Date: Thu Apr 28 22:44:19 1994 Love is a plant, that must be chreshised and fed, so it will grow into love eternal. From JasonLee@yabbs Thu Apr 28 22:58:38 1994 From: JasonLee@yabbs To: Mariusz@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Thu Apr 28 22:58:38 1994 In message Mariusz, Mariusz said: > Love is a plant, > that must be chreshised and fed, > so it will grow into love eternal. Poems are cheese, that must be churned out and bred, so they will grow into lame eternal. I don't know. Is it just me, or is most of this poetry stuff just bullshit? JasonLee From pixy@yabbs Fri Apr 29 00:29:42 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: warlord@yabbs Subject: re: Romance Date: Fri Apr 29 00:29:42 1994 In message Romance, warlord said: > Pixy I must agree with what you said. I also think most guys, > do not care that much for poetry. But then again that is my opinion. > > I have more of a "sexual" rush from flying than I do from being with a > female. > Anyway that is my four cents, as much as that is worth. Alas. we men must face the classisc conflict of desire and passion vs. rational thinking. O! Terque, Quaterqe Beati... Pixy From Natalie@yabbs Fri Apr 29 08:18:13 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: JasonLee@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Fri Apr 29 08:18:13 1994 Geez...JasonLee, what's your problem? Here's my 2 cents worth... 1. He|nle|n almost s|nglehandedly made sc|-f| a leg|t genre. Pretty much before h|m, sc|-f| was relegated to pulp magaz|nes and |t d|dn't get the k|nd of d|str|but|on |t gets today. True, some people may argue that |t was better that way, but | don't th|nk so...|f you're a wr|ter then *part* (not all, and th|s may be the t|nest part) of your reason for wr|t|ng |s to let other know what you th|nk and how you feel. Sc|-f| authors couldn't reach a w|de aud|ence before He|nle|n made |t okay, and you st|ll won't see a sc|-f| author be|ng g|ven the Nobel pr|ze, but th|ngs have come a long way... 2. You sa|d, "I don't know. Is it just me, or is most of this poetry stuff just bullshit?" |t's only bullsh|t |f you're nothonest |n your |ntent|ons when you wr|te |t, and | really don't th|nk anyone around here |s try|ng to pull the wool over anyone's eyes. Well, that's what | th|nk...and y'all know, | should probably actually post some more poetry one of these days.... Natal|e From buzzbomb@yabbs Fri Apr 29 09:32:17 1994 From: buzzbomb@yabbs To: JasonLee@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Fri Apr 29 09:32:17 1994 in an english class i had last semester, we read this article about a poetry class. the teacher had left an assignment on the board from a different class, and when the poetry class came it, they saw it and thought it was a poem (it was just a list of names) and started analyzing it. THe teacher let them go with it, and they eventaully pulled a lot of "deep" meaning from it. just a bunch of words and numbers (author's names and page numbers i think they were actually). basically anyting can be percieved as art and people can enjoy it. just like music, visual art, whatever... i heard some construction equipment on campus the other day and i swear the banging and clanging was just as cool sounding as any industrial tracks i'ev heard recently. would've been cool to sample and loop as a rhythm track. so what's my point? i dunno... but basically if people enjoy it or get meaning out if it, it qualifies as art (in this case poetry). and yes i agree that there's so many cliches and overworked themes that it gets pretty lame sometimes. but i'm sure there's SOMEONE out there that has an original perspective on love... so keep trying, people. love is a passing emotion :) From Cat@yabbs Fri Apr 29 09:56:17 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Fri Apr 29 09:56:17 1994 In message re: Mariusz, Natalie said: > 1. He|nle|n almost s|nglehandedly made sc|-f| a leg|t genre. Pretty much > before h|m, sc|-f| was relegated to pulp magaz|nes and |t d|dn't get > the k|nd of d|str|but|on |t gets today. True, some people may argue > that |t was better that way, but | don't th|nk so... Really? Hmmm. I've never read any Heinlein, never was much into sci-fi, I read War of the Worlds in 4th grade, scared my self half to death and haven't picked up another sci-fi novel since, unless you count some of the stuff Vonnegut writes as sci-fi, but I perfer to think of it as satire. Sci-fi is one of the scariest genres because there's always a chance, however slight, that the stuff in them could happen. > and | really don't th|nk anyone around here |s try|ng to pull the wool over anyone's eyes. Hmmmm. I wouldn't be too sure about that. Maybe I am, pulling the wool over someones eyes is such fun. ;). Most of the poetry I write is like that one I posted, sarcastic, tongue in cheek stuff. Oh I have writien some sincere poems, but I never liked them as well. :) From Natalie@yabbs Fri Apr 29 10:43:17 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Fri Apr 29 10:43:17 1994 but cat, you're be|ng s|ncerely sarcast|c....not fak|ng an emot|on. There |s a d|fference... and one more th|ng jasonlee: | don't wrte aboutlove, | wr|te about man|pulat|on...there |s just a b|t of a d|fference... natal|e (damn th|s keyboard!) From bardIIII@yabbs Fri Apr 29 11:06:08 1994 From: bardIIII@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Bored.... Date: Fri Apr 29 11:06:08 1994 haven't had time to write anything of my own lately, but thought i'd drop off something that a friend wrote before he went into the army last week.... A Warrior At Dawn Weep for me, And sing for me, And pray for me, I must go now to meet Fate. For now we are parted But remembrance shall keep us close. Things said, gifts kept, tender moments, and laughter, These shall make our bond. To see me you have only to notice The simple pleasures around you, The beauty of nature, good drink, and laughter. Perceive the world with the wonder of a child, Peer through The Looking Glass and see my life. Our souls have crossed paths So we are destined to meet again. We have formed a chain which transcends The bonds of man and earth. And when united again We shall indulge in these delights once more, Beauty, drink, and laughter. Well, thats it....hope someone enjoys it...it is simple, yet has a great message(which is hard to see if you dont know him, but oh well) ----Bard . From pixy@yabbs Fri Apr 29 11:22:49 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Fri Apr 29 11:22:49 1994 yes. you should. From Cat@yabbs Fri Apr 29 13:23:57 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Fri Apr 29 13:23:57 1994 In message re: Mariusz, Natalie said: > but cat, you're be|ng s|ncerely sarcast|c....not fak|ng an emot|on. There > |s a d|fference... > Heck Nat, I'm not being sincerely sarcastic at all. :) I use saracsm as a defence to hide my real emotions. :) -tammie From Natalie@yabbs Fri Apr 29 15:40:28 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Fri Apr 29 15:40:28 1994 tammie, you're just a pathetic wannabe.... *hug* natalie From pixy@yabbs Fri Apr 29 15:58:15 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Fri Apr 29 15:58:15 1994 here's a little ditty by e.e. cummings--one of my personal favorites, chuckle, chuckle:) tell me what you think. the way to hump a cow is not to get yourself a stool but draw a line around the spot and call it beautifool to multiply because and why dividing thens by nows and adding ands(i understand) is hows to hump a cows the way to hump a cow is not to elevate your tool but drop a penny in the slot and bellow like a bool to lay a wreath from ancient greath on insulated brows (while tossing boms at uncle toms) is hows to hump a cows the way to hump a cow is not to push and then to pull but practicing the art of swot to preach the golden rule to vote for me(all decent mem and wonens will allows which if they don't to hell with them) is hows to hump a cows *NOTE* i have not mispelled anything in the above poem--i checked--if anything is not spelled correctly, it was the authors intention. enjoy, pixy From Natalie@yabbs Fri Apr 29 17:51:16 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Fri Apr 29 17:51:16 1994 i hate ee cummings. yeats is much better. From JasonLee@yabbs Fri Apr 29 19:24:00 1994 From: JasonLee@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Fri Apr 29 19:24:00 1994 In message re: Mariusz, Natalie said: > 1. He|nle|n almost s|nglehandedly made sc|-f| a leg|t genre. Pretty much > before h|m, sc|-f| was relegated to pulp magaz|nes and |t d|dn't get > the k|nd of d|str|but|on |t gets today. True, some people may argue > that |t was better that way, but | don't th|nk so...|f you're a wr|ter > then *part* (not all, and th|s may be the t|nest part) of your reason > for wr|t|ng |s to let other know what you th|nk and how you feel. > Sc|-f| authors couldn't reach a w|de aud|ence before He|nle|n made |t > okay, and you st|ll won't see a sc|-f| author be|ng g|ven the Nobel > pr|ze, but th|ngs have come a long way... Although he did a great service to sci-fi, it doesn't compare to the abilities of Ellison. It's hard to explain, but in the single novel he published, Ellison demonstrated his complete understanding of the black condition, the american condition, and the human condition. I know what I've said seems a bit arrogant, but the difference between the writing abilities of the two is fairly large. > 2. You sa|d, "I don't know. Is it just me, or is most of this poetry > stuff just bullshit?" |t's only bullsh|t |f you're nothonest |n your > |ntent|ons when you wr|te |t, and | really don't th|nk anyone around > here |s try|ng to pull the wool over anyone's eyes. I don't know that pure intention implies good poetry. It's just that I don't like that people think they can just throw flowery words together, mention love, and feel deep. I don't like the assumption that unstructured, unreflective poems are just as good just because of honest intentions. JasonLee From robtelee@yabbs Sat Apr 30 01:25:52 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: bardIIII@yabbs Subject: Bored.... Date: Sat Apr 30 01:25:52 1994 kewl piece... From Natalie@yabbs Sat Apr 30 11:14:16 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: JasonLee@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Sat Apr 30 11:14:16 1994 Hmmm....I don't like to compare between genres all that much...there's different criteria for different genres...Heinlein made sci-fi respectable...and Ralph Ellison did what he did very well too...bot talk aboutthe human conditon, just in different ways... Pure intention does not necessarily make good poetry, I agree that t s necessary to know enough to avoid a cliche, *but* you have to give a person credt for tryng...we all can't be Yeats or Shakespeare... And while I'll be the first one in line to bitch and moan about the state of poetry today (i.e., I detest free verse, but it's about all I can write decently...I know, I'm a living contraciction), but a lot of it does have merits...now modern art on the other hand.....If anyone wants to hear my whole discourse on poetry, just let me know and I'll unleash it on you... *grin* natalie From Deaska@yabbs Sat Apr 30 12:23:18 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: heinline vs Ellison Date: Sat Apr 30 12:23:18 1994 hehehehe... Orwell kicks ass!!!! *wink an' grin* *yabbs hug* D' :) From Cat@yabbs Sat Apr 30 12:40:17 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Deaska@yabbs Subject: re: heinline vs Ellison Date: Sat Apr 30 12:40:17 1994 Yup :) From Natalie@yabbs Sat Apr 30 16:04:30 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Deaska@yabbs Subject: re: heinline vs Ellison Date: Sat Apr 30 16:04:30 1994 jes' throw some gasoline on the fire, Deask'..... *hug* Natalie From Charon@yabbs Sat Apr 30 19:35:29 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sat Apr 30 19:35:29 1994 I really do nor know...i sometimes fell the need to change..here or there, now and then...adn if it comes out nice, then i soetimes do it again..thanx for the insight! :) -Charon- From Charon@yabbs Sat Apr 30 19:37:51 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Hellion@yabbs Subject: re: Love me! Date: Sat Apr 30 19:37:51 1994 YES!!!!!!!!!!!! Hellion said it!!! i am i guy but i am very romantic towards my girlfriend...but sometimes i also am the biggest asshole..so it goe both ways..but as Hellion said..some guys can be VERY romantic!! -Charon- *HUG* From Charon@yabbs Sat Apr 30 19:47:17 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Sat Apr 30 19:47:17 1994 If you are going to hide your real emotions...there is no sense in writing poetry.....because poetry is an expression of your emotions in such a way that while you cannot express them in life...you find another way..:) -Charon- From Cat@yabbs Sat Apr 30 20:00:19 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Sat Apr 30 20:00:19 1994 In message re: Mariusz, Charon said: > If you are going to hide your real emotions...there is no sense in writing > poetry.....because poetry is an expression of your emotions in such a way > that while you cannot express them in life...you find another way..:) > -Charon- Wrong wrong wrong my dear. I write poetry because I feel like it. If I'm upset or angry and decide to write a sarcastic poem instead of a morose depressing or anger and hatred filled one, because sarcasm makes me feel better than my real emotions do, then I'll write a sarcastic poem. :) From Natalie@yabbs Sat Apr 30 20:13:30 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Mariusz Date: Sat Apr 30 20:13:30 1994 you go girl! From Mariusz@yabbs Sat Apr 30 21:05:01 1994 From: Mariusz@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Shiatty Date: Sat Apr 30 21:05:01 1994 I think that Dylan Thomas is the best poet in the world! From hawke@yabbs Sun May 1 01:32:00 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: no title Date: Sun May 1 01:32:00 1994 hey folks i know i only hang out heare to mainly read what everyonte else does but i was really wondering if we could get off the debate and just see some goo poetry and to quit anylizing it you may think how do you not anylize poetry well simple you read it and feel it thank you hawke From Natalie@yabbs Sun May 1 03:34:21 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: re: no title Date: Sun May 1 03:34:21 1994 but hawke, *whine* it's so much fun debating poetry....and I haven't writtenany in a while (but maybe I'll try tomorrow, just for you... *grin*).... and, mariusz, you're WRONG! Yeats is the best poet who ever lived. BUt I like dylan thomas a lot too...he's much better than that t.s. eliot chap...*giggle* Natalie From Mariusz@yabbs Sun May 1 03:43:18 1994 From: Mariusz@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: no title Date: Sun May 1 03:43:18 1994 I like Rage against the dying of the light. From hawke@yabbs Sun May 1 06:31:45 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: natalie@yabbs Subject: re: no title Date: Sun May 1 06:31:45 1994 :) why thank you dear that makes me feel special hehehe. as far a the debating aspect i prefer to just feel poetry :) catch ya later hawke From jujubee@yabbs Sun May 1 10:08:02 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: re: no title Date: Sun May 1 10:08:02 1994 ---------->>>>>>>>my sentiments exactly<<<<<<<<<----------------------- *jujubee* From Natalie@yabbs Sun May 1 14:26:55 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Mariusz@yabbs Subject: poetry Date: Sun May 1 14:26:55 1994 YEATS YEATS YEATS YEATS YEATS YEATS YEATS YEATS (read The Second Coming, it's the best poem in the English language) And I happen to *love* that Dylan Thomas poem... From Zbadba@yabbs Sun May 1 21:05:21 1994 From: Zbadba@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: poetry Date: Sun May 1 21:05:21 1994 * The following poem was written in completely honest intent, without known cliches, love, flowery language, or Ralph Ellison. As such, it may not be suitable for JasonLee. Parental discretion is advised. ;) * Quivering Pinkness, Like a can full of Goodness; Pull back the tab: Spam. From pixy@yabbs Sun May 1 22:07:03 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sun May 1 22:07:03 1994 In message re: , Natalie said: > i hate ee cummings. yeats is much better. Oh, come on Nat. Sure, yeats is a great poems--Easter 1916 is one of the greatest poems ever. cummings, though, had an understanding of rythm and diction and the like that no one has even come close to. His creativity and experimantation takes poetry to a whole new level for me. pixy From pixy@yabbs Sun May 1 22:09:44 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sun May 1 22:09:44 1994 In message re: , Charon said: > I really do nor know...i sometimes fell the need to change..here or there, > now and then...adn if it comes out nice, then i soetimes do it you are quite welcome, charon. I am always willing to lend my advice and suggestions. pixy From pixy@yabbs Sun May 1 22:11:56 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Mariusz@yabbs Subject: re: Shiatty Date: Sun May 1 22:11:56 1994 In message Shiatty, Mariusz said: > I think that Dylan Thomas is the best poet in the world! Well, give me some time! *grin* pixy From pixy@yabbs Sun May 1 22:13:07 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Mariusz@yabbs Subject: re: no title Date: Sun May 1 22:13:07 1994 In message re: no title, Mariusz said: > I like Rage against the dying of the light. oh, that is a GOOD one. Pixy From Natalie@yabbs Sun May 1 22:52:15 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sun May 1 22:52:15 1994 blah. I hate stupid respelling anda lack of or bizarre punctuation. Give me good old iambic pentameter anyday. (yes, I am very conservative when it comes to poetry. So kill me.) From Nemesis@yabbs Mon May 2 00:46:06 1994 From: Nemesis@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Horseless Carriage Date: Mon May 2 00:46:06 1994 Sure, It's just steel, plastic, rubber, and glass; But to me there is more. I feel It's bowels churning. I hear it whine. I hear it roar. Listen, It will tell you a story, It's name, how it feels. It is more than just a tool or a machine. It is my friend. -Nemesis From Mariusz@yabbs Mon May 2 15:36:59 1994 From: Mariusz@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Shiaty Date: Mon May 2 15:36:59 1994 I think that Garciaso is a good hispanic poet. From pixy@yabbs Mon May 2 20:36:32 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Mon May 2 20:36:32 1994 In message re: , Natalie said: > blah. I hate stupid respelling anda lack of or bizarre punctuation. > Give me good old iambic pentameter anyday. (yes, I am very conservative > when it comes to poetry. So kill me.) ...oh, come on. conventional rythm has been around for thousands of years. It's long overdue that we play around with forms and comlexity of our languages in new ways--the english language for one could use new manipulations.But i don't think i will kill you for your opinion--but there is always that option;) pixy From Natalie@yabbs Mon May 2 23:36:51 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Mon May 2 23:36:51 1994 however, it has gotten to the point where the conventions are no longer taught in schools. I had to teach myself how to write in iambic pentameter. I still remember my 9th grade english class where we were told to write a poem and the techer told us that anything we wanted could be poetry. There has to be some thought put into it, not just a random selection of words that look good. That's what the conventions do...they make the poet think of the words that best suit his or her purpose. And while I know that cummings did put a lot of thought into his poetry, it is his poetry and others like it that have led to this total lack of understanding of poetic forms and what *I* consider to be the sorry state of poetry today. I just don't like the aesthetic that I'm being forced to conform to. And while I do write free verse, I also discipline myself by writing sonnets. That's about allI can think of at the moment, cause I'm really really tired....god I hate having to work.... natalie From Cat@yabbs Tue May 3 11:06:57 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue May 3 11:06:57 1994 rdir(b)s y in the sky l rdir(b)s f until the ... @ ... @ ... @ ... @ meht c h a s e s dna semoc a w a y wow. now i'm cool just like e.e.cummings :) i could had done better if i'd had pen and paper. compucummings just isn't the same. :) From Natalie@yabbs Tue May 3 11:34:10 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue May 3 11:34:10 1994 i hate you cat. i really really hate you. gotta love that sarcasm. natalie From Cat@yabbs Tue May 3 11:37:02 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue May 3 11:37:02 1994 awww, gee Nat. I thought you'd _like_ that one. That's no way to respond to my attempt at creativity. Now I'm hurt *snifflesniffle* :) From Natalie@yabbs Tue May 3 12:25:00 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue May 3 12:25:00 1994 *insane giggling* TRY PUTTING A LITTLE MORE THOUGHT INTO IT NEXT TIME THEN! *maniacal laughter* From pixy@yabbs Tue May 3 12:31:50 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue May 3 12:31:50 1994 In message re: , Natalie said: > > however, it has gotten to the point where the conventions are no longer > taught in schools. I had to teach myself how to write in iambic > pentameter. I still remember my 9th grade english class where we were > told to write a poem and the techer told us that anything we wanted could > be poetry. There has to be some thought put into it, not just a random > selection of words that look good. That's what the conventions do...they > make the poet think of the words that best suit his or her purpose. And > while I know that cummings did put a lot of thought into his poetry, it is > his poetry and others like it that have led to this total lack of > understanding of poetic forms and what *I* consider to be the sorry state > of poetry today. I just don't like the aesthetic that I'm being forced to > conform to. And while I do write free verse, I also discipline myself by > writing sonnets. That's about allI can think of at the moment, cause I'm Actually, i was taught the conventtions of how to form meter and rythm, but i doubt that everyone is. Yes, i would agreee that some poems now use free verse out of sheer laziness. I would even hesitate to consider most free verse poems--perhaps raw thought would be a better term. some totally disregard any verse when it could elevate the communication of their thoughts into a totally different level of experience. with free verse the content and diction communicate, as does the lack of verse. Many don't consider the poem something that acts upon many different complex levels, so what we get is a lot of second rate poetry. But now on the other hand, look how many people butcher rythm and meter. too many people just think that the only way to wirte a poem is in the standard a,b,c,d...rhyme scheme and whatever rythm seems to fit in with the first line of the poem. Certainly this is not good poetry. Most of the poetry in unfree verse is just as childish and incomplete as the free verse. rythm and rhyme are something that need more consideration from poets. And no rythm or ryme is still a type of rythm and rhyme and still requires the same considerations as such. pixy From pixy@yabbs Tue May 3 12:33:58 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue May 3 12:33:58 1994 In message re: , Cat said: > rdir(b)s > > y in the sky > l > rdir(b)s f until and so on.. no. compucummings isn't as good as the real thing, but this is a really neat effort. pixy From Cat@yabbs Tue May 3 13:43:38 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue May 3 13:43:38 1994 In message re: , Natalie said: > TRY PUTTING A LITTLE MORE THOUGHT INTO IT NEXT TIME THEN! Heck that poem took me a whole hour and a half to write i'll have you know! ;) Sheeeeeeeeeesh! Everyone's a critic! -tammie From Hellion@yabbs Tue May 3 20:09:42 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue May 3 20:09:42 1994 In message re: , pixy said: > Actually, i was taught the conventtions of how to form meter and rythm, > but i doubt that everyone is. Yes, i would agreee that some poems now use > free verse out of sheer laziness. I would even hesitate to consider most > free verse poems--perhaps raw thought would be a better term. some totally > disregard any verse when it could elevate the communication of their > thoughts into a totally different level of experience. with free verse the > content and diction communicate, as does the lack of verse. Many don't > consider the poem something that acts upon many different complex levels, > so what we get is a lot of second rate poetry. > But now on the other hand, look how many people butcher rythm and > meter. too many people just think that the only way to wirte a poem is in > the standard a,b,c,d...rhyme scheme and whatever rythm seems to fit in > with the first line of the poem. Certainly this is not good poetry. Most > of the poetry in unfree verse is just as childish and incomplete as the > free verse. > rythm and rhyme are something that need more consideration from > poets. And no rythm or ryme is still a type of rythm and rhyme and still > requires the same considerations as such. > pixy Okay, here we go off being "professional" poets? Tell you all what, I am a Computer Science Major! Once upon a time I learned a little about rhyme and meter, but I really didn't care much, I write what I feel! If it happens to rhyme, so be it, if not then it doesn't. I guess that I just don't have what it takes to write good poetry! But then again when you are programming 10 - 20 hours a week, you really don't have too much time to think about if it has some rhyme or rythym! I guess if you don't like what I write, dont read it. I just feel that if there are 2 or 3 people out there that like to read it, then I will post it, if not I will just keep it to myself *professional poetry* (spoken under breath) -- Hellion From jujubee@yabbs Tue May 3 20:43:54 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: compucummings Date: Tue May 3 20:43:54 1994 ....hey--i thought it was cool....but then again, i always appreciate things that stray from the norm....you'll never catch me writing iambic pentameter or something....not that iambic pentameter is bad or anything....i just prefer free verse....as far as i am concerned..... it was a valiant attempt well received and appreciated by me.... ****VIVA EL GATO!!!!****** or dare i say....la gata? hehehehe...psyche! **la jujubee** From hawke@yabbs Tue May 3 22:29:46 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: Hellion@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue May 3 22:29:46 1994 hey hellion i couldnt agree more with you on that keep writing what you feel :) and ill keep reading it hehehehe From Natalie@yabbs Wed May 4 00:22:09 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: SORRY! Date: Wed May 4 00:22:09 1994 Geez...what have I started??? All I want is a little thought put into poetry, that's all I ask.....I don't care how much time you put into it, just try to do your best...don't jusdt pick 30 words at random, arrange them haphhazardly and try to pawn it off as a poem. I ain't gonna buy it. natalie From Hellion@yabbs Wed May 4 01:56:51 1994 From: Hellion@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: SORRY! Date: Wed May 4 01:56:51 1994 In message SORRY!, Natalie said: > Geez...what have I started??? All I want is a little thought put into > poetry, that's all I ask.....I don't care how much time you put into it, > just try to do your best...don't jusdt pick 30 words at random, arrange > them haphhazardly and try to pawn it off as a poem. I ain't gonna buy it. > > natalie No, that is not what I got from it at all. I got this sudden feeling, not from any one person, that the poetry here was not good enough, from there it went on to forms, what was better who was better and then got into rhyme and meter, and I really started to feel like anything that I wrote wasnt going to be good enough. I have just been wondering if everyone thinks that everything here sux. With the exception of hawke, in the last 3 or 4 days here I have just been an innocent bystander waiting for this to calmly cool down. I didnt mean to start anything new. Sheesh with all the flames going you would think that we were on #hack *ha ha ha* I really hope it does calm down, cuz I know I put thought and effort into my stuff, a good start would be no flames on this letter. =) -- Hellion From Cat@yabbs Wed May 4 13:20:47 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: compucummings Date: Wed May 4 13:20:47 1994 thanks much juju! i lve free verse as well. iambic pentameter is all fine and good, but once in a while one has to let ones hair down and write something fun and silly. :) glad you liked it. :) take care! tammiecat From Cat@yabbs Wed May 4 13:23:52 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: SORRY! Date: Wed May 4 13:23:52 1994 In message SORRY!, Natalie said: > just try to do your best...don't jusdt pick 30 words at random, arrange > them haphhazardly and try to pawn it off as a poem. I ain't gonna buy it. Funny thing is Nat, many publishers would. :) that's the problem with some of the writing these days. everyone's trying to be avant garde simply for the sake of being avant garde. They're all out elioting eliot (whom i love no matter what, look what he did for cats ;) ) tammie From Natalie@yabbs Wed May 4 13:55:31 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Hellion@yabbs Subject: re: SORRY! Date: Wed May 4 13:55:31 1994 I never ever ever meant to imply that the poetry here was less than great. I was just speaking in generalities, and you know how that gets people in trouble. I should know better than that. I guess I'm just talking about the schmuck who thinks s/he's a poet cause s/he can put a bunch of owrds on the page that aren't prose. Poetry is more than that. From Natalie@yabbs Wed May 4 14:02:50 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: SORRY! Date: Wed May 4 14:02:50 1994 I scoff at the avant garde. I think a lot of the stuff that gets published today, that is not 'genre' writing, is crapola. I have the hardest time finding books when I go to the bookstore. It's gotten to the point where I don'teven look for new authors anymore, I just look for different books by authors I already have. I should be able to find good writing without having to hunt for it. The standards of the publishing industry need to be raised, methinks. Look at Stephen King. He writes his books in the cab on the way to the publisher. The quality of his stuff doesn't seem to be as good to me as it did 10 years ago. And no one's going to sit him down and say, "Hey Steve, could you rewrtie this?" Cause if they do, he can just take it to another publisher. Sure, it'd be breaking his contract, but w/ the kind of monay he makes, he can afford it. Publishers are more interested in making a dollar than they are in distributing quality literature. I think that has to change. natalie (And I did like your poem...I was just making use of the sarcasm you like so much.....*grin*) From Dadaists@yabbs Wed May 4 14:15:31 1994 From: Dadaists@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: SORRY! Date: Wed May 4 14:15:31 1994 I think that Eliot might have a hard time with your statement (not to mention contemporary poetry). His stuff was several layers deep with references and often meant to be difficult to read. Note, for example, the Greek and Latin in The Wasteland, as if the English isn't hard enough! Sure, Eliot would scoff at a lot of stuff today. And sure, his cats-related stuff was fun. But rather than being avante-garde for its own sake, I think that Eliot's poetry more nearly tried to be art for art's sake. If you read Eliot as a reaction against Romanticism, this becomes a little clearer. Thanks. -Dadaists From Natalie@yabbs Wed May 4 16:21:17 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Dadaists@yabbs Subject: re: SORRY! Date: Wed May 4 16:21:17 1994 However, I'm a Romantic at heart so....I tend not to like Eliot. I much prefer Yeats. He speaks to me where Eliot doesn't. Whatever happened to writing poetry to make people feel something? Art for art's sake? what a load of shit. There's no point in being 'artistic' if no one understands/is affected by it. So crucify me. I don't care. I know what I like. natalie From Charon@yabbs Wed May 4 17:35:31 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: natalie@yabbs Subject: sheesh...!!! Date: Wed May 4 17:35:31 1994 look Nat..and everyone else..poetry comes from the soul..poetry can be expressed any way possible...there is no RIGHT or WRONG way to state your feelings....i'd like it if everyone would stop cutting on each other and realize that poetry can be in ANY form and is not wrong no matter how is is written, or no matter how many unstessed/stessed sylables are in each line!!!!!!!!!!! Come on people...who really gives a shit???!!! and if you do give a shit....open your eyes and look at all the other forms that are out ther....who knows you might come to like it?!!! PS. lets stop the insane bickering over who is a better poet and what forms are best...no one can argue with another person's opinion... NO ONE!!!!!! NO ONE!!!!! my two cents..take it or leave it.. -Charon- From jujubee@yabbs Wed May 4 18:14:39 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: sheesh...!!! Date: Wed May 4 18:14:39 1994 gee--guess Charon's message just about sums it up....can't ppl be more cheery these days??? there's too much grieving in the world already.... why the hell can't we just all relax and enjoy the finer things in life rather than habitually slamming them???????? *just*a*thought* jujubee From pixy@yabbs Wed May 4 20:44:34 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Hellion@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed May 4 20:44:34 1994 In message re: , Hellion said: > Okay, here we go off being "professional" poets? Tell you all what, > I am a Computer Science Major! Once upon a time I learned a little about > rhyme and meter, but I really didn't care much, I write what I feel! If it > happens to rhyme, so be it, if not then it doesn't. I guess that I just don't > have what it takes to write good poetry! But then again when you are > programming 10 - 20 hours a week, you really don't have too much time to > think about if it has some rhyme or rythym! I guess if you don't like what > I write, dont read it. I just feel that if there are 2 or 3 people out > there that like to read it, then I will post it, if not I will just keep it > to myself *professional poetry* (spoken under breath) > > -- Hellion okay, stud. you write poetry the way you want; i'm not orderinf any method upon anyone but myself--if anything i'm trying to keep people from being forced to write in one certain way because they think that is the way poems me be in order to be poems. but the way i see it is any type of verse--free or otherwise--is a choice of verse, and i don't think any choice in life should be taken for granted. If you have enough passion for poetry you'll think about the choices you make with it, the intricacy of the meter, the suggestions of the diction, the allusios and similies and metaphors. You'll put every pieof passion you can wring out of your limbs on to that paper. You'll see how you can communicate thinks beyond normal expression, and you'll brood over every choice, every rhyme, every word, every little thing. If you don't care, fine--just dump it on the paper--that can be great sometimes. you see, nothing beautiful is above the elements and design principles of art--even the most nihilistic sentiments have a unity and balance to them. Every poem reflects something; if you don't care about that fine, but ido and i'll keep on encouraging others to explore and consciously deal with the different elements of poetry, thank you very much. btw, i'm and Arch major and spend most of my time in the design studio--your 10 to 20 hours a week programming sounds like a goddamn vacation to me,and i still find the time to think about what i right--imagine that pixy From pixy@yabbs Wed May 4 20:47:21 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed May 4 20:47:21 1994 In message re: , hawke said: > hey hellion i couldnt agree more with you on that keep writing what you > feel :) and i couldn't agree with you more either; i just prefer to consider every little detail of my poems. Write your way and let me write mine. pixy From pixy@yabbs Wed May 4 20:48:50 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: SORRY! Date: Wed May 4 20:48:50 1994 thank you natalie, we might not agree on the best way to think about writing, but at least we both do think about it. pixy From pixy@yabbs Wed May 4 20:51:58 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Dadaists@yabbs Subject: re: SORRY! Date: Wed May 4 20:51:58 1994 ah yes, an eliot fan-alright. i am reading the wasteland and i love it. have you read the hollow men--that's one of my favorite of all time. pixy From pixy@yabbs Wed May 4 20:56:07 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: finished Date: Wed May 4 20:56:07 1994 okay, no matter what naything else has to say or argue about poetry, i'm gonna start posting it again. I will continue to argue, but after i write something--i'm aching for a little expression. Maybe all the bitching will get some good feedback on posted poems coming in. If so, i am all for it. pixy From Natalie@yabbs Thu May 5 02:10:45 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: finished Date: Thu May 5 02:10:45 1994 *sigh* I give up. you people do your thing, and I'll do mine. Not like I ever wanted to make y'all write sonnets anyhow. I jsut happen to think they're good discipline, that's all. natalie From BlueMax@yabbs Thu May 5 09:53:07 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: BlueMax@yabbs Subject: NONE Date: Thu May 5 09:53:07 1994 Wanders the streets... dark and wet Looks for a freindly face... within the endless masses Wanders, Wanders... finding nothing but an empty peace Written this moment, May 5, 1994 @ 22:50 From Deaska@yabbs Thu May 5 11:12:30 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: poets anon. Date: Thu May 5 11:12:30 1994 ego's... please settle :) lets have some more poetry.. an' I'm sorry I can't contribute some atm.. but I'm kinda asleep. *warm hugs to anyone who wants them* Deaska From Cat@yabbs Thu May 5 11:42:05 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: SORRY! Date: Thu May 5 11:42:05 1994 In message re: SORRY!, pixy said: > ah yes, an eliot fan-alright. i am reading the wasteland and i love it. > have you read the hollow men--that's one of my favorite of all time. > pixy > The Waste Land is great! I love Eliot. And The Hollow Men has the best line in poetry ever written, IMHO: "This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper." -tammie From Natalie@yabbs Thu May 5 12:36:45 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: SORRY! Date: Thu May 5 12:36:45 1994 hey cat....I like that poem, but really only that one. I'm not a closet eliot fan who's in denial. But this is a good line too: "Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world." Gotta love that phrase, *mere* anarchy...ah, mon cher Yeats, what a way you had with words...*sigh* I'll stop rhapsodizing now. natalie From Charon@yabbs Thu May 5 17:42:52 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: My own blackness Date: Thu May 5 17:42:52 1994 I am your building block, I am the one who guides you, I am the green grass, in your ever growing forest. But when the sky falls down, and you're screaming for me, I am not to be found, For you have forgotten me. At the tower on the hill, In the house with many walls, Your screams of breathlessnes, echo into the village. I do not weep for you, nor do i cry for you, I only wish for me, to forget this maddening game. Again, and again, and just once more, your scream falls on ears, across the valleys and streams. Along forbidden ears, and among unheard souls, Racing under the surface, of the icy stare of death. Hidden beneath all that seems real, a slip on the burning tree, and thrown away from maddness, Down, down, into the puddle of despair. The moisture penetrates your lungs, As the water screams for entry, and the air battles to escape, there will soon be a mutual exchange. And then you are the water, You are not here, nor there, You cannot love, see, or hear, The sun has set, And you're fucking dead.... -Charon- From Destiny@yabbs Thu May 5 19:13:32 1994 From: Destiny@yabbs To: Deaska@yabbs Subject: re: poets anon. Date: Thu May 5 19:13:32 1994 Good point D'. After all this is a poetry base. I'd love to see some more :) Oh, and as for those hugs you were handing out, I'll take one :) *hugs* -Dest' From Cat@yabbs Fri May 6 09:51:04 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Destiny@yabbs Subject: re: poets anon. Date: Fri May 6 09:51:04 1994 In message re: poets anon., Destiny said: > Good point D'. After all this is a poetry base. I'd love to see some > more Hey, you write Dest, why don't you post something? We'd love to read some of it, not to put you on the spot or anything ;) From pixy@yabbs Fri May 6 19:53:35 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: SORRY! Date: Fri May 6 19:53:35 1994 In message re: SORRY!, Cat said: > "This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper." yes, beautiful pixy From Destiny@yabbs Sat May 7 22:59:29 1994 From: Destiny@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: Dest' writing Date: Sat May 7 22:59:29 1994 "Not to put you on the spot or anything" -Cat Yeah right! :) I'd say that's a spot if I ever saw one- more blatant than the primary colored shapes on a Twister mat :) I'd post something, but I haven't written much in a long time. The last piece of writing I completed was a dramatic monologue. I haven't written much poetry recently. I guess it jsut has to flow and come into existence on its own. And when it does, I'll be sure to post something :) Until then, I'll continue to read and enjoy along with the rest of you :) See ya :) -Dest' :) From Deaska@yabbs Sun May 8 03:22:52 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: Destiny@yabbs Subject: re: Dest' writing Date: Sun May 8 03:22:52 1994 yuppers.. but I personally can't wait to see some Dest originals... oops.. here I go again, posting without having a poem to offer.. ahwell.. I'm kinda in the same boat as you Dest... oneday... I'll post.. I promise... *big warm loving hug* your ever loving D' From pnovak@yabbs Sun May 8 17:09:36 1994 From: pnovak@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Numbers: README Date: Sun May 8 17:09:36 1994 Hey folks: I was going to e-mail this private to Natalie. Don't ask me why I went public. It is a letter in some 3 parts, and it is v.e.r.y. l.o.n.g. Skip all numbers if you want to. You're forewarned. pn. PS Lotsa beer, don't know if I'll regret this later... From pnovak@yabbs Sun May 8 17:58:49 1994 From: pnovak@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Oops again! Date: Sun May 8 17:58:49 1994 I think they wont let me do it. Not nice getting bumped off after typing half an hour! Maybe it's the lag, pretty bad right now. Will ask abt. it; sorry. pn From topi@yabbs Tue May 10 22:47:35 1994 From: topi@yabbs To: bardIIII@yabbs Subject: re: Bored.... Date: Tue May 10 22:47:35 1994 Yeah *smile* I enjoyed that poem. Thanks for sharing it. -Cath From Skywise@yabbs Wed May 11 09:41:04 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: sheesh...!!! Date: Wed May 11 09:41:04 1994 0101 0111 0100 0101 0100 0001 0101 0010 0100 0101 0100 0001 0100 1100 0100 1100 0100 0111 0100 1111 0100 0100 0101 0011 This is the answer. From Natalie@yabbs Wed May 11 17:12:59 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: sheesh...!!! Date: Wed May 11 17:12:59 1994 42? From Zbadba@yabbs Wed May 11 18:28:49 1994 From: Zbadba@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: sheesh...!!! Date: Wed May 11 18:28:49 1994 WE ARE ALL GODS Indeed. From Charon@yabbs Wed May 11 19:06:55 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: sheesh...!!! Date: Wed May 11 19:06:55 1994 From hawke@yabbs Wed May 11 23:25:01 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: Zbadba@yabbs Subject: gods Date: Wed May 11 23:25:01 1994 some of us are just more godly than others From pixy@yabbs Sun May 22 04:16:32 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: a poem...finally Date: Sun May 22 04:16:32 1994 finally i got some new shit i been playing around with. As usual, it's still rough draft, free verse, and incomplete. As a matter of fact, i was a bit out of my mind when i wrote it. So please give me some feedback; i need to figure out what direction i wanna take this thought in--you know, diction, meter, rhyme scheme, tone, that kinda shit. Oh well here it goes... I hate to see you go you said, as you were kissing my cheek, "You ready" Well someone was whispering in the other ear "choose any animal and you will become..." Or something like that. It was time to go, "Let's go" i think you said, and in the other ear, "Any animal you want to be and with every word you are one.." Or something like that. For you, old friend, i would be any animal, and, Perhaps, i am with every word i say to you, and every word takes me back to you and those sunny days before we lost interest in innocence ...Or something like that. And i felt a kiss on my cheek as i fell into a sleep "Goodbye" I never heard you say, and nothing in the other ear. From aztec260@yabbs Mon May 23 05:52:27 1994 From: aztec260@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: run Date: Mon May 23 05:52:27 1994 Run into the dark allys and sewers the gutters and junkyards. Run into the shards and thistles cutting, cutting, deeper, deeper pain makes life real. Pain keeps the real so in your face that you want to puke, vomit the emotion for it away. The only thing that keeps you sane are the pill and liquids that will make the real such a welting and melting joke. Run if you think that it helps hide you. Shield you from the weight of life, and the only release, death. Run the fuck away, go hide you sick and rotting creature. Only then can you save yourself. So run Run From aztec260@yabbs Mon May 23 06:05:51 1994 From: aztec260@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Night Becomes Date: Mon May 23 06:05:51 1994 The night becomes death to those who do not watch there back to those who laugh to much talk to much walk to slow The night becomes freedom to those who are shy to those who are young who are wild who are strange The night becomes home to those who do not care where they sleep those who do not eat do not wash or care to The night becomes a genie to those who dream those who wish who daze to fly The night becomes day for those who stay out to long those who wander to much make love to long create to much The night becomes everything From Natalie@yabbs Tue May 24 01:35:39 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: technology Date: Tue May 24 01:35:39 1994 ok, this is VERY rough. it's a first draft, no revisions at all. so...since it is so choppy and not so good yet, i'll tell you what i'm trying to do. i'm *trying* to capture a bit of man's relationship to technoloogy, using christianity as a parallel. Blinking lights hypnotize Mysterious beeps and whirs mesmerize Communion with a machine friend mentor lifeblood Our very lives depend on these contraptions One misplaced disk Misunderstood command Accidental kick to the power cord Go directly to Jail Do not pass Go Do not collect $200 We get mad at the tool when it's our fault And man said, Let us make computers in our image, After our likeness. I know, i know, i know. A LOT ofwork to be done on this. I've got a few ideas, so maybe you all will get a revised (and improved) version one of these days. Natalie From Natalie@yabbs Tue May 24 01:43:29 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Yeats Date: Tue May 24 01:43:29 1994 I got this wonderful book of literary criticism. It's called "Yeats" and it's written by Harold Bloom. I was reading it at work andthere was a passage which made me laugh out loud. So I though I'd share it with you all. though the most famous lines against rhetoric since rimbaud's are by yeats, his vision of reality increasingly demanded a more flamboyant rhetorical procedure than his own statements could have sanctioned. this is not unique in yeats; the most wearisome critical statements, from Wordsworth to the present day, are those against poetical diction and in favor of the rhythms of supposedly common speech. These statements, wheher in wordsworth, pound, eliot, or in the host of little poundlings and elioticians (heheheheh...that's you Cat...), invariably turn out to have no relation whatsoever to any good poets actual performance. hatever the rhythms of Yeats became, they were never conversational. If one wants that, one can go, I suppose, to auden, betjeman or larkin, but not to the high romantic, anglo-irish yeats.l ok, i admit it. it was the swipe at eliot and pound i liked. But I agree 100% w/ bloom. And btw, he is VERY critical of mon cher yeats in this book too, so it's not 500 pages of him going on and on about how great he was. well, imho he was really great, but hey, that's just me.... natalie From robtelee@yabbs Tue May 24 01:44:32 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: technology Date: Tue May 24 01:44:32 1994 Not bad...I would DEFINITELY like to see your final draft...the parallels you speak of are intriuging. From Trane@yabbs Tue May 24 16:11:29 1994 From: Trane@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: another lyric Date: Tue May 24 16:11:29 1994 Umm, this is another song lyric I wrote for my band, Plankton...it is a song I wrote after meeting an idol of mine, the renowned bassist for the great punk band The Minutemen, Mike Watt...after meeting him, I wanted to write a lyric that expressed the appreciation and "love" I have for him. You drive me You mold me Your lifesongs unfold me You are the econoclast Thunder broom Fills the room Firecracker, boom boom boom Unleash me, econoclast You ignite Make it right Cut it loose every night Take me there, econoclast And all I ever had A little man with a gun in his hand And all I ever had Jesus and Tequila You drive me You mold me Your lifesongs unfold me You are the econoclast Econoclast is a hybrid word, combining iconoclast (literally, one who breaks down idols) with econo, the adjective Mike Watt often uses to describe his Do It Yourself, economical, punk philosophy. I think it's a pretty accurate name for the man. Thunder broom is a term he uses to describe his bass...also an accurate name. Trane From Badger01@yabbs Tue May 24 16:24:21 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: Bloom re Yeats Date: Tue May 24 16:24:21 1994 Yeats as seen through the eyes of the ubiquitous H. Bloom? Sounds Dangerous. What does Mr Croatoan have to say about the romantic period? From Badger01@yabbs Tue May 24 16:30:49 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: Hello, everybody... Date: Tue May 24 16:30:49 1994 Names Mattt, but those who like me call me Badger, and those what don't don't call me often. Yes, I really have 3t's in my name. I'm a student at Roger Williams University majoring in Creative Writing in a Bachelor of Fine Arts program, and am a fiction writer. But I do write the occasional poem. Why, here's one now! (Memory ofit, not the thing itself) When I go on the machines my heart unbeating notliving they will shove the blood sluice it in my arms carbonate the in my arms hang me on the wall throw your jackets down on me look at my wax stubblestcu deadday expression use me as a planter an ornament hang curtains on me I never want to die Well, that's the most I can remember off hand. Have a nice day, and remember that I said hello. BTW_The poem came from a discussion on aggressive life support I had with a friend of mine who has since passed on. He disagreed. From Cat@yabbs Tue May 24 20:48:04 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: something old i found Date: Tue May 24 20:48:04 1994 i was looking through my writing folder, and i found this old story type thing that i wrote in 10th grade (ions ago :) ) when my teacher assigned us to write a "narrowing of focus story". i thought i;d post it just so you all wouldn't think all i ever write are sarcastic poems. :) this is more morbid that anything i've ever writen i think, but ah well. I've always has a facination for cemetaries. :) There is a tall iron fence surrounding the cemetery. A chain has been woven through the fence and fastened by a padlock, so that none may disturb the homes of the dead during the night hours. Silence hangs on this place like a veil, broken only by the howling of the lonely wind. A few paths can be seen through the grass, made earlier by loved ones who had come to pay their debts to the dead. A marble statue of Christ stands in the center of the cemetary with it's open arms outstretched, as if to welcome in the spirits of the deceased. Within the cemetary lies a grave, alone, far apart from the rest. No paths lead up to this secluded spot. The tombstone is crumbling, and so grime-encrusted that the inscription can not be deciphered. The only "flowers" that decorate this stone are the weeds that grow high around it, embracing it. Six feet beneath the matted grass lies a coffin, and old wooden coffin. The nails which hold the wood together are bent and rusty. The wood itself is rotting away, deteriorating. It is more like wet cardboard that wood. Maggots have burrowed deep into it, leaving vein-like paths in their wake. Inside the coffin lie some bones, the flesh had fallen from them years ago. They are weak and brittle. The arms and legs are long, the shoulders broad, indicating a man. Scraps of cloth, whose color has long since faded, cling to the bones. A hole can be seen in one scrap of cloth, a small round hole, and it continues on through one of the bones in the ribcage. Next to the bones sits an old rifle. It is useless, corroded, and covered with rust. But what would it's owner use it for now? There was no way of knowing that these bones belonged to a soldier, a young man of 18. Excited by fighting for freedom and liberty, and determined to change the world, he joined the war. He was pathetically inexperienced in fighting, his hands had never held a gun. He feel on his first day of battle, killed by a well-guided shot to the heart. Now, all that remains of him are his bones, lying in a rotting coffin, under a lonely grave, in the cemetary. (the persian gulf war was going on at the time i wrote this, so i think it inadvertently affected the story) anyhow, that's one of the very few serious/"dark" pieces i've ever written. satire is a much more comfortable medium for me to write in. ;) -tammie From NJDEVIL@yabbs Tue May 24 22:25:26 1994 From: NJDEVIL@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: something old i found Date: Tue May 24 22:25:26 1994 geez Cat! How morbid can you get!! From Natalie@yabbs Wed May 25 00:34:02 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: Bloom re Yeats Date: Wed May 25 00:34:02 1994 well, i'm only about 120 pages into the thing (it's very interesting, but rough going as well...), b ut from what I gather so far, he's not overly critical of the romantics...he doesn't say that they were totally w/o discipline or anything...(if they were i wouldn't like them). Most of his venom *seems*, thus far, to be directed at eliot and pound. hee hee. which is fine cause I don't like either of them.... From Natalie@yabbs Wed May 25 00:35:26 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: Hello, everybody... Date: Wed May 25 00:35:26 1994 impressive...and YES! antoher creative writing major around here *grin* i write mostly fiction too, but i get the occasional poem done as well... natalie From Natalie@yabbs Wed May 25 00:37:41 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: something old i found Date: Wed May 25 00:37:41 1994 nice, very nice....you should try to write more serious stuff....(not thatI don't like your sarcastic poetry...).....this is really good...wonderful imagery and diction.... natalie From Badger01@yabbs Wed May 25 11:25:16 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: The Gates are opening... Date: Wed May 25 11:25:16 1994 Thanks .... The scene here is so dead I have a hard time keeping alive. Heres another Poem (NOOOOO!) I found gathering mold... Doesn't Do--By Mrossi living between it between them feel the rain coolblueblack wipes the dayfever summerhot back watch the greyblack build itself live for the periods dotting pits at the end Everything is water live waiting for the rain waiting for it to end Don't know me anymore silver my eyes sliver shadows snakerooted tongue only lies older than my fathers age creeps greengray golden up my sagskin wrapped around bulging KFC fat (They do chicken right) They Yellowing teeth clack on nothing red my dagskin in this hateheat between the coldsteelbluewet tatterings fall during dayhatred spatter runny white onto pitted asphalt ashfall go my faults scrinnscreaming yellowblue burn out of me wolves rancidead tumorpelts sagging on shatterbones living hunger ribs scrape under patchfur hunt past death mind the time drive us past drydying rise in me surround us whitemoldgrave trees stand as watch she burns in my rainfed thoughtranges out and strikes no work today called on account of 1, 2, 3 Sesame Street and Me taught me how I taught me Nod nobody but me Don't know me living between the razorshine rain don't live much anymore slam the sagskinned bulkbone hateweight into anonymous targets growl through our yellowaiting rageteeth GINGIVITIS MY ASS chew on the sagskin the yellowfat the gristle the bulkbone the tumormeat gnaw on the veins suck on the slickstain oilblood salty but not red or norbrown growling and roaring we chew myself to death That's it....about two years old, I think. BADGER (01) Matthew Rossi III Let us go then, you and I When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherized upon a table --T.S.Eliot, THE LOVE SONG OF J.ALFRED PRUFROCK I have to admit that I do like Eliot. Hate Pound, though. From Cat@yabbs Wed May 25 11:41:17 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: The Gates are opening... Date: Wed May 25 11:41:17 1994 In message The Gates are opening..., Badger01 said: > > Let us go then, you and I > When the evening is spread out against the sky > Like a patient etherized upon a table > --T.S.Eliot, THE LOVE SONG OF J.ALFRED PRUFROCK > > I have to admit that I do like Eliot. Hate Pound, though. *grin* He likes Eliot. I love Eliot. :nudges Nat. SEE! I'm NOT the only one. :) I liked your poem Badger, it was especially good when read aloud. Looking forward to more. You used some interesting images, that's for certain sure. :) -tammie From Badger01@yabbs Wed May 25 11:58:02 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: The Gates are opening... Date: Wed May 25 11:58:02 1994 Well, you asked for it. I just happen y to have a rewritteb rewritten version of my poem from yesterday that I did in Japan after my friend died. Here We Go. (When I go on the machines my heart) Mrossi When I go on the machines my heart unliving not beating blood shoved sluiced through my arms my veins carbonation in my arms hang me on the wall keep your hats on me dresss me up to scare away strau crows let yoir kids play with my leadman body hands dead no holes hang verdant and crimson stockings on my sallow stubble shrouded face my christ posture no blinking my neck leans left don't let them pull the plug From Badger01@yabbs Wed May 25 11:59:48 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: The Gates are opening... Date: Wed May 25 11:59:48 1994 If anyone wants to see the longer version maybe I'll post it sometime. Badger Matth Rossi (YESSS MATTH!!!!) AAHAHAHA From Natalie@yabbs Wed May 25 12:51:26 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: The Gates are opening... Date: Wed May 25 12:51:26 1994 am i the only one around here who likes yeats the best? *sigh* eliot is caca, except for the final bit of 'the wasteland'" this is how the world ends this is how the world ends this is how the world ends not with a bang but with a whimper methinks the muse was speaking to him then..... but i admit, i really don't like tons and tons of obscure literary references to things i haven't gotten around to reading yet..... natalie From Badger01@yabbs Wed May 25 13:05:13 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: The Gates are opening... Date: Wed May 25 13:05:13 1994 What rough beast, his hour come at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? (I know I got the form wrong, but still...) I don't like Eliot or Yeats the best. My favorite Poets are John Skelton, Roethke, Corso, And Keats. Although there are tons more. I'm very open that way. I like all sorts of poetry and prose. (I'd better. I edit the school litmag.) And as far as Apocalypse poetry goes, I have a line that I can't find that runs through my head, heard it somewhere but can't remember where. "I am become Death, the shatterer of worlds." Who wrote that? BADGER01 Matt Rossi There is no political solution To our troubled evolution Have no faith in constitution We are spirits in the material world The Police From pbj@yabbs Wed May 25 14:06:16 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: hello Date: Wed May 25 14:06:16 1994 Hi my name is pbj and i am new to this bbs. I am interested in finding out information on writing and publishing. I am 16 and have a short book of halfway decent poetry i would like to publish and several short stories If you have any info please leave me a message here. thanks!! p.s. to those reading eliot try his humourous stuff like The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. good imagery and the song Afternoons and Coffeespoons by the CrashTest Dummies is based on it. Good Sheeat! s From Natalie@yabbs Wed May 25 20:07:35 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: hello Date: Wed May 25 20:07:35 1994 *ahem* IMHO, "The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock" was written for one and only one purpose. To torture high school students. Blah. I fucking hate that poem. Of course, I only like that one teesy weensy bit of Eliot. Iprefer Yeats at his worst to Eliot at his best. And I know NOTHING about getting published (my stuff isn't good enough yet). But you might want to try in the Writer's Markets books. Your local library *should* have a semi recent edition.... natalie From Cat@yabbs Wed May 25 21:18:43 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: hello Date: Wed May 25 21:18:43 1994 In message hello, pbj said: > p.s. to those reading eliot try his humourous stuff like The Love Song > of J. Alfred Prufrock. good imagery and the song Afternoons and > Coffeespoons by the CrashTest Dummies is based on it. Good Sheeat! you think Love Song is humorous? i never read it like that. i always thought of it as kinda sad, this middle aged man wants to do things, but is held back because he's too worried about what people will think of him, esp. the members of the opposite sex. i never looked at it as funny before, maybe it's time to re-read it (perish the thought, eh Nat *grin* ) I never listened to the Crashtest Dummies either. i always thought they were those silly vince and larry guys on the buckle up commercial. guess i'm just not with the music scene. :) -tammie From Natalie@yabbs Thu May 26 00:31:08 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: hello Date: Thu May 26 00:31:08 1994 hmmm....i didn't see the bit about j alfred being the inspiration for the crash test dummies song (And I'm seeing them next monday YES YES YES!)...and I like that song too....oh dammit all, may I *am* a closet eliot fan and I jsut won't admit it to myself. geez....out of one closet and into another...ah well...such is life... natalie From Aquinas@yabbs Thu May 26 12:24:55 1994 From: Aquinas@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: hello Date: Thu May 26 12:24:55 1994 "Those masterful images because complete Grew in pure mind, but out of what began? A mound of refuse or the sweeping of a street, Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can, Old iron, old bones, old rags, that raving slut Who keeps the till. Now that my ladders gone, I must lie down where all the ladders start, In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart." ---William Butler Yeats, THE CIRCUS ANIMALS DESERTION Aquinas From Badger01@yabbs Thu May 26 12:36:07 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: Eliot is cool,Hehehehe Date: Thu May 26 12:36:07 1994 I'd take Prufrock over the Stolen Child anyday.... Although I like Easter 1916...I think they all have merit "Here is Belladonna, the lady of the rocks, The Lady of Situations" works for me (I KNOW THAT'S FROM WASTELAND) As well as "An aged man is but a paltry thing" Eliot was heavily influenced by Yeats (The Second Coming and the Wasteland are very similar in intent) and I don't like to cut myself off from either But I really have a hard time seeing the humor in Prufrock. And I hate Pound, so at best I be a hypocrite here. BADGER01 Matthew Rossi III "The common word exact without Vulgarity, The Formal word precise but not pedantic"--Eliot, Little Gidding "Once more the storm is howling, and half hid Under this cradle-hood and coverlid My child sleeps on"--Yeats, A Prayer for My Daughter From pixy@yabbs Thu May 26 13:08:25 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Bloom re Yeats Date: Thu May 26 13:08:25 1994 In message re: Bloom re Yeats, Natalie said: > venom *seems*, thus far, to be directed at eliot and pound. hee hee. > which is fine cause I don't like either of them.... Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:0 Let us go then, you and I While the evening is stretched out againgst the sky like a patient etherized upon a table. Let us wander half deserted street.... ....we are the hollow men, we are the stuffed men... ...the women come and go speaking of michaelangelo.... ...April is the cruelist month, mixing... ...This is the way the world ends, Not with a bang but a whimper. Eliot was a master poet and one of the most moving ones i've ever read pixy From pixy@yabbs Thu May 26 13:15:13 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: The Gates are opening... Date: Thu May 26 13:15:13 1994 In message re: The Gates are opening..., Badger01 said: > My favorite Poets are John Skelton, Roethke, Corso, And Keats. > > Although there are tons more. I'm very open that way. I like all sorts of > poetry and prose. (I'd better. I edit the school litmag.) Do you read much of phillip larkin; I really loved Aubade. and that line, i don't know who wrote it, but i remeber seeing it in a movie pixy From Natalie@yabbs Thu May 26 13:50:03 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Aquinas@yabbs Subject: re: hello Date: Thu May 26 13:50:03 1994 *happpy sigh* From Natalie@yabbs Thu May 26 14:10:10 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Bloom re Yeats Date: Thu May 26 14:10:10 1994 2 can play that game The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? Come near; I would, before my time to go, Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways: Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days. Now and in time to be, Wherever green is worn, Are changed, changed utterly: A terrible beauty is born. I sought a theme and sought for it in vain, I sought it daily for six weeks or so. Maybe at last being but a broken man I must be satisified with my heart, although Winter and summer till old age began My circus animals were all on show, Those stilted boys, that burnished chariot. Lion and woman and the Lord knows what. * * * * * Those masterful images because complete Grew in pure mind but out of what began? A mound of refuse or the sweepings of a street, Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can, Old iron, old bones, old rags, that raving slut Who keeps the till. Now that my ladder's gone I must lie down where all the ladders start In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart. Genius. Pure genius. Yeats speaks to y 'foul rag and bone shop of the heart' in a way Eliot never could. I am inspired by Yeats to write. I can hear the music of his words. There is no music for me in Eliot. Natalie From Badger01@yabbs Thu May 26 15:13:27 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Bloom re Yeats Date: Thu May 26 15:13:27 1994 You said it. >There is no music for me in Eliot. FOR YOU. As I keep saying, everybody has an opinion. I happen to like them both, and so keep trying to get you to do the same, which is not my right. The opinion is personal. In an attempt to make the peace, I will now quote from my favoriet Yeats. ......................... The unpurged images of day recede; The Emperor's drunken soldiery are abed; Night resonance recedes, night-walkers' song After great cathedral gong; A starlit or a moonlit dome disdains All that man is, All mere complexities, The fury and the mire of human veins. ---From BYZANTIUM BADGER01 Matthew W Rossi III "Here's the gist of what they mean." --W.B.Yeats, UNDER BEN BULBEN "That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all." ---T.S.Eliot, THE LOVE SONG OF J.ALFRED PRUFROCK From Natalie@yabbs Thu May 26 15:16:58 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: Bloom re Yeats Date: Thu May 26 15:16:58 1994 but it's so much fun arguing about it... "He shall love my soul as though Body were not all, He shall love your body Untroubled by the soul, Love cram love's two divisions Yet keep his substance whole. The Lord have mercy upon us." W.B. Yeats, "the Lady's Second Song" Natalie From Badger01@yabbs Thu May 26 15:22:13 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Bloom re Yeats Date: Thu May 26 15:22:13 1994 Okay, then, here we go... ............................... There are flood and drouth Over the eyes and in the mouth, Dead Water and Dead Sand Contendingf for the upper hand The Parched Eviscerate soil Gapes at the vanity of toil Laughs without mirth This is the death of earth --T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding BADGER01 Matthew Rossi 'And so he became a dancer before God." ---T.S. Eliot, The Death of Saint Narcissus From pbj@yabbs Thu May 26 16:46:07 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: afternoons and coffeespoons Date: Thu May 26 16:46:07 1994 natalie here is my evidence to support the reasoning behind afternoons and coffeespoons correlation to love song of J Alfred Prufrock...... Afternoons will be measured out Measured out, Measured with Coffee spoons and T.S Eliot -Brad Roberts (crashtest dummies) well i hope I have added my fair share of the fuel to the fire. pbj From pbj@yabbs Thu May 26 17:01:02 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: badger01@yabbs Subject: humor Date: Thu May 26 17:01:02 1994 to Badger01 and Tammie- The Reason I find Love song Humorous is because of the amount of melodrama that the speaker uses to describe his "plight" I find it terribly hilarous and could hardly keep from laughing as I read it in class. the whole idea that the female sex should inspire that kind of fear or that anyone would be so concerned about his or her apperarance is truly laughable. I do, however, love Eliot 's use of imagery to depict the fog etc.... you must realise however that i have not read it in awgile and therefore pardon my non-descriptiveness. have fun!! Now as I wait I find myself still thinking about past evenings in that dark, cloudy room with all of it's ash and noise left wity shattered countenence and heart in my hands I'm am not prepared to try to put it back together as I clutch it to my breast and push hard against my chest hoping to force it back into the void the black hole which will never forget you left bruised and happy. at once alone. Afeared that I might Not love again. -mirrors (aka. pbj) copywrite 1993 aweburning From Natalie@yabbs Thu May 26 18:52:15 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: afternoons and coffeespoons Date: Thu May 26 18:52:15 1994 duh duh duh. I knew that line was there. how fuckingstupid do you think I am? I just didn't relate it to profrock, that's all. jesus. natalie From Cat@yabbs Thu May 26 22:11:22 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: humor Date: Thu May 26 22:11:22 1994 nnIn message humor, pbj said: > The Reason I find Love song Humorous is because of the amount of > melodrama that the speaker uses to describe his "plight" I find it > terribly hilarous and could hardly keep from laughing as I read it in > class. the whole idea that the female sex should inspire that kind of > fear or that anyone would be so concerned about his or her apperarance is >laughable? really? maybe it's because i'm shy then, but i can totally understand how the prufrock felt. encounters with the opposite sex can be terrifying to some people, esp. fear of rejection. From pbj@yabbs Thu May 26 22:51:59 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: humor Date: Thu May 26 22:51:59 1994 cat - I"m rilly sorry if my message offended you. That was not my intention in the least. I was trying to show how it could be humourous and my interpretation of it was my interpretation. I totally did not mean to offend you, and I apologize. pbj From Cat@yabbs Thu May 26 23:09:21 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: humor Date: Thu May 26 23:09:21 1994 pbj, you didn't. if you had, i'd let you know it in no uncertain terms. *grin* ok all, enough of this yeats/eliot which poet is better than which stuff. i think all authors, at least deserve if nothing else, respect and admiration for sticking their necks out and trying to express something, whether or not you like their stuff. now, let's get back to posting some original stuff. :) here's a poem i wrote. eins phish drei phish rot phish tot phish __________ translated from german, it means one fish three fish red fish dead fish *grin* it rhymes auf Deutsch AND auf Englisch <>< <>< <>< meow, meow =^^= From pbj@yabbs Thu May 26 23:19:46 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: humor Date: Thu May 26 23:19:46 1994 i like that one cat!!! bye From pbj@yabbs Thu May 26 23:28:03 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: original Date: Thu May 26 23:28:03 1994 okay i am following cat's advice to write something original..... here goes..... - Mailing Letters - Mailing letters I can no longer read Memories of the way I feel The tears have dried, In salty pools below my mirrors A clean unmolested Sheet is what I need A new beginning Unbruised, untasted You gave me more than I asked for and Everything I wanted Those deep, deep pools I Drowned in Have spit me out like Poison Not wishing to be Inaffected by you The marks will remin Me of the passion I Feel. Why can't I let you Go? Out of this dark cave The loud, silent crashing Has come A ghost searching for An empty heart To fill Making doors screech With the urgency Of its errand -Mirrors copyright 1993 Aweburning From Ant@yabbs Fri May 27 02:02:54 1994 From: Ant@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: humor Date: Fri May 27 02:02:54 1994 but ca-a-a-a-a-at......i LIKE arguing natalie From Natalie@yabbs Fri May 27 03:35:15 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: humor Date: Fri May 27 03:35:15 1994 heheheh.......how are your fish anyhow? natalie From Cat@yabbs Fri May 27 12:23:53 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: humor Date: Fri May 27 12:23:53 1994 In message re: humor, Natalie said: > heheheh.......how are your fish anyhow? well, peter's dead. :( i replaced him with a black goldfish with blugy eyes and names him louis, but louis paul and mary just doesn't have the same ring to it as peter, paul and mary did. next time i'll get four guppies and name them john, paul, george and ringo :) -tammie From Badger01@yabbs Fri May 27 12:48:42 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Just Thinking.... Date: Fri May 27 12:48:42 1994 Sometime shredded the yellowman past the waltz screeches the whisperoad past the thronend of days wasted by eagerage Weird how the brain can disconnect on me.... Speaking of good poets who get no respect, here's some of one of my faves... Guess who and I'll give you a prize... ................................ Performances, assortments, resumes- Up Times Square to Columbus Circle lights Channel the congresses, nightly sessions, Refractions of the thousand theatres, faces- Mysterious kitchens....You shall search them all. Someday by heart you'll learn each famous sight And watch the curtain lift in hell's despite; You'll find the garden in the third act dead, Finger your knees-and whish yourself in bed With tabloid crime-sheets perched in easy sight. Then let you reach your hat and go. As usual, let you-also walking down-exclaim to twelve upward leaving a subscription praise for what time slays. ......Know who? I'll tell ya if you don't. Hart Crane, from the Tunnel. BADGER01 Matthew Rossi III "I was promised an improved infancy." --Hart Crane, Passage From aztec260@yabbs Fri May 27 14:26:33 1994 From: aztec260@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: Bloom re Yeats Date: Fri May 27 14:26:33 1994 Yeats!, T.S. Eliot bah! nothing , nothing I say to the master! Samuel Taylor Coleridge! I know this will start some post flying. aztec. From Badger01@yabbs Fri May 27 14:34:17 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: aztec260@yabbs Subject: Coleridge? You brought him Date: Fri May 27 14:34:17 1994 With all respect to Coleridge and Wordsworth, there are a lot of great poets out there and I don't need to get dragged into that sort of critical morass, man! Badger01 Matthew W Rossi III From Natalie@yabbs Fri May 27 22:46:47 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: aztec260@yabbs Subject: re: Bloom re Yeats Date: Fri May 27 22:46:47 1994 coleridge is cool. he was a doped up romantic. but yeats is STILL the master. natalie From Natalie@yabbs Fri May 27 22:47:20 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: Coleridge? You brought him Date: Fri May 27 22:47:20 1994 but i LIKE arguing.....heheh.... natalie From Cat@yabbs Sun May 29 11:30:39 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Coleridge? You brought him Date: Sun May 29 11:30:39 1994 :sighs. i give up. perhaps we should ask ht to make a critize literature base so you can all argue about which author is better than which without disturbing the posts of those folks that are trying to make their own creative contributions to this base. :) -tammie, she who is quite sorry that she EVER mentioned eliot on this base waaaaay back in february. "instead of the cross, the albatross around my neck was hung" :) From Natalie@yabbs Sun May 29 20:05:08 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Coleridge? You brought him Date: Sun May 29 20:05:08 1994 see tammie? it's not MY fault.......*giggle* natalie From Cat@yabbs Sun May 29 21:39:20 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: no title Date: Sun May 29 21:39:20 1994 ah shuddap Natalie, just shut up *grin* suuuuure suuuure blame it on me. :) well now i'm not going to say a single word more about it. i graciously drop out of this frivoulus debate. :) not another post from me about it (forgive me thomas :) ) -tammie From Natalie@yabbs Sun May 29 23:52:46 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: no title Date: Sun May 29 23:52:46 1994 heheh tammie.... ok....new question: Shel Silverstein--poet or not? And I want reasons.... (I was at work last nioght, and i saw "The Giving Tree" and itmade me wonder if he'll still be read in 50 or 100 years...if his stuffis timeless or just appropriate for elementary kids...) natalie From pbj@yabbs Mon May 30 02:36:04 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Barter Date: Mon May 30 02:36:04 1994 The Barter ********** I bought a Dream today A written mirage captured my fascination Money laid out on the table The Anchient Gypsy said to me "You cannot hold everything you dream" I refused to believe him And bought my dream today I obtained a thought today A bird of idea caught in a wire cage My dream was the token Used to secure its treasure The old gypsy was right A dream cannot be held But only wished for The thought grew and gre Until it became a nation Governed by a man Insanity withou reason I lived in the night mare Of tyranny exchanged for a dream -mirrors copyright 1994 Aweburning please let me know what you think. I would appreciate all commentary. thanks Colleen From robtelee@yabbs Mon May 30 03:23:57 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: The Barter Date: Mon May 30 03:23:57 1994 I liked it...i liked the symbolism of actually buying your dream and then finding out it wasn't what you thought it was...cool...kinda like real life. From Natalie@yabbs Mon May 30 05:08:03 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: The Barter Date: Mon May 30 05:08:03 1994 i'm jealous. dammit. poems like that make me wish that i was a poet first and a fiction writer second instead ofthe other way about.... natalie From Natalie@yabbs Mon May 30 17:09:15 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: eliot Date: Mon May 30 17:09:15 1994 I hope you're happy. I reread Prufrock today. And I admit, it wasn't as bad as I remembered from 4 years ago. I actuallyh understood it. Happy now? Good. natalie From pbj@yabbs Mon May 30 17:16:01 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: alien dream Date: Mon May 30 17:16:01 1994 I had the most alien dream a few moons ago I dreamt that I gave life to a beautiful female baby I dreamt that I had to give up my beautiful female baby And it tore out my heart When I woke up my pillow was wet form the tears I'd creid in my slumber I had my dream come true A few weeks ago My beautiful female baby was born from me and the One I loved but this time I did not give My baby away I left the birthplace with My child in my arms Wrapped in a homemade blanket I took my baby home with me And slept with her next to me and my lover -mirrors- copyright 1994 aweburning just one more dream enjoy colleen From Cat@yabbs Mon May 30 21:32:03 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: eliot 'n silverstein Date: Mon May 30 21:32:03 1994 Yes I am happy that you re-read prufrock. :) question is, are YOU happy you re-read prufrock? I just like that poem 'cause i can identify w/ it. i'm not middle-aged and balding, but i'm terrified of encounters with the opposite sex sometimes..and i can understand how P. felt. and i think the image of a night being "stretched out like a patient etherized on a table" is cool. :) and eliot always uses cats in his poems (sure he uses them as metaphors for senuality but...) :) about silverstein....hmm. he certainly is a poet in his own right. the subjects he deals with are "timeless" and so techically he should be classic. personally i don't think he will be. his stuff IMHO doesn't have the same sort of umph and uniqueness that say Roald Dahl's does, or Maurice Sendack's (sp?) does. and his illustrations aren't all that hot either. :) i never liked "the Giving Tree" the tree just let's the selfish little brat of a boy use her and walk all over her..not a very pretty picture. Now, had the tree finally decided she'd had enough, grown tentacles, strangled the Boy to death, and buried his body and used it for fertilizer to rejuvinate herself and the earth....THEN silverstein would be classic. :) sorry this post is so long. -tammie From Deaska@yabbs Mon May 30 23:15:36 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: alien dream Date: Mon May 30 23:15:36 1994 aw... that was trully wonderful in my eyes... *speechless atm* D' :) From pbj@yabbs Tue May 31 01:16:31 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: camera Date: Tue May 31 01:16:31 1994 This camera of life Through my eyes Snaps shut locking the place in the coffin of my brain are you locked in my brainor is it only a part of you and your soul, in there, that I have stolen for myself -mirrors- copyright 1994 aweburning hey, all those lost in cyberspace...the copyright doesn't mean that you can't write it down...it only means that you can't say it's yours....no offense intended it's a reflex.....have had stuff stolen before...... have a great night all......see ya in yabbs! colleen From Natalie@yabbs Wed Jun 1 01:52:02 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: alien dream Date: Wed Jun 1 01:52:02 1994 that's so...so...god...i don't have the words to say what that poem made me feel.... natalie From pbj@yabbs Wed Jun 1 02:05:10 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: more brain candy Date: Wed Jun 1 02:05:10 1994 -for kerouac- Rubbing his belly and licking his lips he came for her, Across the swollen room. with smoke and whiskey on his clothes. Briskly, lovingly he waled, with an aire of a secret unknown. Racking her brain she tried to getit out. Partly suspended between life and work, Without a map to be had. Sleepily he woke, hours ago, wondering the time or place. little Harlem nights you stay with me. Love and Laughter, sorrowed existence unknown destinations. All the white noise and blackened silences pages of my life go by. -mirrors copyright 1993 aweburning P.S. all punctuation mistakes, capitalization, and lines breaks intentional. they lend form.. if you re-copy please leave them intact. tanks colleen From Charon@yabbs Wed Jun 1 18:39:25 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: NEW STUFF!!!!! Date: Wed Jun 1 18:39:25 1994 DARK? ***** Why is love a maze, and a toil of darkened dream, that twists into knots, that aren't what they seem? Why can't love be a flower, that blooms in the sun? Why is love a shadow, forever on the run? Why is love confusing, a dazzling web of lies, Why is love left stranded, to dance among the flies? Why is love shown red, when all i see is black? Why is love about giving, when i never get it back? How can love be true, forever etched in stone? How can love be shared, when i am always so alone? Who can deal with love, but the confident and strong? Who is there to love, for my only love was wrong. When does love attack, or sail upon the sea? When is love for us, and when does love choose me? Can love be at my side, or follow at my heel? or how about in my pocket, for only me to feel? Can love be the drkness, that i carry on my back? or can love be the light, that i always seem to lack? enjoy people!!! *hug* -Tim- From Deaska@yabbs Wed Jun 1 23:20:40 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: Charon@yabbs Subject: re: NEW STUFF!!!!! Date: Wed Jun 1 23:20:40 1994 wonderful!!!! IMHO, it jus feels good to me, thoroughly enjoyed! D' :) From Fucked@yabbs Thu Jun 2 02:23:42 1994 From: Fucked@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: Frustration Date: Thu Jun 2 02:23:42 1994 I was reading through the first messages to come up to speed on what has ebbn done here and I saw your post about your scene..somewhere around post #100 or so... I Immediately thought of the first "erotic" thing I wrote... maybe somebody out there can identify..... --FRUSTRATION-- they slept he slept she COULD NOT sleep she wanted they needed they wanted he'd had she COULD NOT have so she tried to think about little grey stars and tiny fluffy clouds but the feeling would not leave could not leave as she lay next to him warm from tip to toe but without that one thing she wanted so badly. I don't usually write in such an abbreviated form tell me what you think -mirrors copyright 1994 thanks colleen From robtelee@yabbs Thu Jun 2 02:47:04 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Fire and Ice Date: Thu Jun 2 02:47:04 1994 Your heat Drives me mad ! I want to drink From your well. I want your warmth To envelop me ! I burn For you ! You've grown so cold, You turn away, You forget me, You spurn my soul. NBo warmth. No Light. So Cold So Dark. ALONE ! From Charon@yabbs Thu Jun 2 16:37:52 1994 From: Charon@yabbs To: charon@yabbs Subject: Charon Date: Thu Jun 2 16:37:52 1994 All Mixed Up ************* Some times i feel, like i could just run away, to the hills of stealth, to the valley of play... Sometimes i feel so down, like a puddle in the rain, sometimes i feel like the thunder, in a downpour of pain... Often i wander the street, with love in the back of my head, other times i just wander, lettimg my feelings mixed w/ dread. Once in a while i feel, like the world is my foe, then i stop and think, and wonder if it isn't so. when i'm feeling down in, and my mind is mixed up, i realize that i am the poison, in my own paper cup... i forget that i am only human, i forget i am cursed... i remember i stand for pain, i remember i felt it first. so somwtimes in the moonlight, when a star shines on my back i remember your tears, filling a sidewalk full of cracks. with all these blessed feelings, and this one hated cup, full of all your blood, with my being so mixed [fucked] up. -Charon- From Natalie@yabbs Thu Jun 2 17:47:44 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: heheh Date: Thu Jun 2 17:47:44 1994 TECHNOPHILIA "Kiss me in the dark with lips of steel." --Guadalcanal Diary I want to feel your cold metal hands on my shoulders back thighs and everywhere in-between. Caressing me. Kissing me with your shiny steel lips. My eyes close and I imagine a lover who's strong virile human. Which you aren't but I still want you, you with your sexless metal self. Skilled in all the tricks that I'm not, your willingness to do anything, anything I want no matter how bizarre weird unusual. You are at my command, robot. You will do as I say in my onanistic fantasy world. September 20, 1993 I have no idea where this came from. I was really sick and layingi n bed trying to breathe and I kinda hallucinated it...*shrug* So I wrote it down...this happens to be my favorite poem that I've written... natalie From pixy@yabbs Thu Jun 2 22:13:19 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: heheh Date: Thu Jun 2 22:13:19 1994 that happens to be my favorite poem that you've written, too. pixy From pixy@yabbs Thu Jun 2 22:19:00 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: sex Date: Thu Jun 2 22:19:00 1994 My first thought about sex was that men and women fit together like Lego's, and wam! bam! i don't give a damn, and, "she was nothing to me..." like the Hell from above I learned to live and love. From Natalie@yabbs Thu Jun 2 23:17:57 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: heheh Date: Thu Jun 2 23:17:57 1994 thanks natalie From pbj@yabbs Sat Jun 4 17:40:08 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: the big thing Date: Sat Jun 4 17:40:08 1994 Swilling a delicious wine And smoking While listening to the Young child in her Spout words of wisdom The burning permeates The room with a presence More material than my own As it floats on the Wind to my nostrils And fills me with A scent of an unknown Place She crouches on the floor Looking for the jewels She lost in another place, far from here In another time, unknown to me In another life, when she was not as I know her So we raise our faces To the moonlit sky And sing the Old music In harmony with The stars and the spheres in the Old dance which mortals have forgotten From the mouths of babes We remember nothing that we once knew Hot irons on icy faces Burn the flesh And add to the smoky Room a scent of humanity And an odor of lost love And the Children they remeber The ways of old from the faerie Teachers that teach them in Their dreams While they slept With angelic faces To mirror their Teachers From the Old music Light bulbs screaming Their power for us to hear The power which I can control Only partially Let me use your power, oh great one ( she laughs) The music rings in my ears As I lay on my back It washes over me In a cloud of sweetness I watch the little shadows Of children on the wall although I am alone in this place Swilling and smoking Cold appendages touch my warm body Blackened, smudged fingers clasped In mine I hold this forbidden one close to my heart And she screams in pain as though I have hurt her The sky changes from deeply black To grey to a suddenly shining gold And the song changes from the Old music Of the night to the hurried chaos Of daylight and we keep singing the fading Harmony as we go through our daily paces Of life in order to achieve the accepted Norm of success A picturesque life scene pans out before these very eyes of mine Of rainbow-haired children Dancing in the fields of glorious wild flowers As a steady rain drenches their tiny forms **to be continued in next post** From pbj@yabbs Sat Jun 4 18:00:26 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: the big thing contd.. Date: Sat Jun 4 18:00:26 1994 **continued from last post** In this darkened place I seeonly his form Shedding the skin that confines his Movements, full of grace Only by the dim light of a single smoking stick That burns steadily into the night Filling the room with a new familiarity That comforts my troubled soul The lights are flickering, the windows shake The earth quakes with the broken hearts All over the sphere That wail with a pain that is not quieted That burns without a tangible fuel He sheds the skin and comes to me in my puddle of shed skin On this pallet of open aire grasses And straw We sleep, our unconcience forms Shaped like little silver spoons Sharing everything, heat, affection, and ecstasy I try not to show him how I care Fighting the tide of life As I swim against the flow Of normality pressed upon me from all sides My fins grow tired as I try with all my might I know I cannot do this alone although I press on in solitude The sun burns hotly Against the blackened skin Of the children that stood in the flowering field They stood for millenia, dancing together Until the flowering field became a burning Desert with flowering skeleton trees AS the young coal colored rainbow Children dance awaiting the new dawn Her long crown shines golden down her back Slender and beautiful Pink skin shining in the darkness Perfect god-inspired form But now she is dead Again the night has come And we ritually abandon the chaotic Beating of the daylight and sing the familiar Melodies of the stars and spheres Dancing around a vast nothing that we Cleared space for T o remind us of the thing we fight against Another nothingness that cancels the music They come together Unaware of the intentions of others To chisel their unity into stones of Absolute, total void They trust in nothing but each other I can feel it spreading Hitching a ride upon my cells To completely inhabit me To totally incapacitate me She said with bitter acceptance In her tone She lives with this sickness everyday Sculpture, smooth transition Into something that cannot be Known except in a haze He makes it tangible Forcing my soul sight into a mineral The old soldier polishes He polishes the medals of another Devotion to his position He refused to take anothers life He rejected the massacre of many S ohe was scorned by his peer And those above him did not understand His peaceable heart, the past that shone with love -mirrors -copyright 1994 aweburning hey tell me what you thought of this..it's an experimental form i'm working on, the telling of many sstories at once, sorry it was so long thanks in advance for your input Collee Colleen that is From Natalie@yabbs Sat Jun 4 18:33:59 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: the big thing contd.. Date: Sat Jun 4 18:33:59 1994 wow.....i am VERY impressed...i really liked this a lot... natalie From Badger01@yabbs Mon Jun 6 13:58:06 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: The Barter Date: Mon Jun 6 13:58:06 1994 Excellent use of language. OH GOD I SOUND LIKE MY TEACHERS! But still true. BNAD Booga! BADGER M Rossi III From Badger01@yabbs Mon Jun 6 14:01:02 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: In General.... Date: Mon Jun 6 14:01:02 1994 Wow, my god, now I go and get sick and meanwhile you guys are weally writing up a storm. I'm jealous. BADGER , M Rossi III From Badger01@yabbs Mon Jun 6 16:14:01 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Shadowmate--A Poem Date: Mon Jun 6 16:14:01 1994 Shadowmate slides the wall holds him up another on the ground ahead and more behind compnay I keep in inky black walkers swarming Interested in the shape of a glinter swoop in the streetlight eclectic blue Aquamarine Azure Cerulean Turqoise The shadowmates walk on in it puddlehuddler sky gravegrey about to break in half (And how do I assume?) Clothes shoes jackets jeans swathswarm ragged strings handlehang half-a-hundred eyes wait for the bus wait for it and I'll tell you I have loved all of the Razorice writhe slow serpentinearly pulse a thousand at once rumbles in veins only I look in every mirror I pass hate what I see looking out at me wrath a wraith green eyed maneworldoorway sing the body eclectic chorus line a form legs go flailing I see green between us all of and them The Sun is everything The Void is not Null and void the things we said Empty the way we spoke half-a-hundred times looking empty my hands fingers locked as I look soread wide I hear the hisspers whiss from corbel and corners Shadowmates slide on the dirt many following me to Nowhere in the eclectic blue Aquamarine Azure Turquoise Cerulean our backs my back your back in the grass look up see the eclectic blue love the thoud the thousand faces dogging at my heels the word the hills of (Thayer and Angell and Greant and Hope) older than stone the looping roadway statueRoger facing the glass manhandled crackcity shadowmated walkers dozens of shadowmates wreathing the feet Halogenies spear the night split white the air Exhaust dieselbitter the air heavy brittle broken Shattered by the roar of a thoudand throats Soft lips I didn'tr know you then I don't know me knowing now Which would you prefer? That's a shorter version. Sorry for all the typo's BADGER01 M Rossi III From hawke@yabbs Mon Jun 6 21:07:45 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: robtelee@yabbs Subject: re: Fire and Ice Date: Mon Jun 6 21:07:45 1994 very interesting i know how it feels to see a relationship that is full of the fire turn into the cold and lifeless feeling of being alone. it hit home johnny reb i remain your obedient servent hawke From Zbadba@yabbs Mon Jun 6 21:59:48 1994 From: Zbadba@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Mon Jun 6 21:59:48 1994 five men, their breath ragged, their vision blurred, stagger unsteadily around a fire chanting something i can't remember. a child, his face half lit in flickering orange, plays with a doll, its head of crudely carved ivory. such sadness in the child's eyes, i try to reach out, but the child lies not only beyond reach, but beyond comprehension. a man notices the child and stops his slurred chanting. the child remains fixated on the doll. he will not hear the machete. the doll falls, and is lost in the sand. From robtelee@yabbs Mon Jun 6 22:25:10 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Where has Love gone ? Date: Mon Jun 6 22:25:10 1994 Long ago, when I was young, The world was full of love, A walk along the road would bring, You so many "good mornings." Bu now it brings bitter warnings ! "Don't go out in the dark, lock your doors, switch on your alarms." A walk to the shops with the kids, A stroll in the park with the dog. You know all the things we loved. But now you can't go for a stroll, In the park, not unless your dog is tough. Oh where, Oh where has all the love gone ? Times have changed, People are strange. But we all need love. If we all try to smile and be kind and true, Shortly we can bring back the love, We once knew. My wife wrote this after watching the evening news here in the United States. The story reminded her of some terrible things that happened to her when she was very young. robtelee From topi@yabbs Tue Jun 7 20:48:34 1994 From: topi@yabbs To: robtelee@yabbs Subject: re: Where has Love gone ? Date: Tue Jun 7 20:48:34 1994 That was beautiful. and why can't we? -Cath From Steyr@yabbs Wed Jun 8 19:52:39 1994 From: Steyr@yabbs To: robtelee@yabbs Subject: re: Where has Love gone ? Date: Wed Jun 8 19:52:39 1994 Hmmm... I thought the first half was really, REALLY great ... and very true. Beyond there she seemed to run out of inspiration/motivation, but that's just the way I see it, and everyone has their own interpretations on stuff like that. But the first half ! ... full points. Get your wife to write some more. I really loved it. - Steyr From Trane@yabbs Thu Jun 9 20:18:34 1994 From: Trane@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: irrelevant thread Date: Thu Jun 9 20:18:34 1994 I know this has nothing to do with anything, but Cat's post about her fish and their names made me smile because Ollie and I had fish at one time and we figured they should have names that went together...instead of John, Paul, George, and Ringo, we named ours after our fave porn stars! :) Ron Jeremy and Trinity Loren! anyway, back to our regularly scheduled WWF Title Bout: YEATS VS. HULK HOGAN!!!!!!!! T-Bone From Egwene@yabbs Fri Jun 10 11:04:38 1994 From: Egwene@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Trichina Be Damned Date: Fri Jun 10 11:04:38 1994 There is a slug in my orane juice His little skin is quite chartreuse His little eyes, they look bright red I do beleive that he is dead Around him lies some plasmic gel It mixes with my orange juice quite well I drink my juice, slug and all Then contemplate going to the mall From Natalie@yabbs Fri Jun 10 19:58:15 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Egwene@yabbs Subject: re: Trichina Be Damned Date: Fri Jun 10 19:58:15 1994 heheh i like natalie From Steyr@yabbs Fri Jun 10 21:24:06 1994 From: Steyr@yabbs To: Egwene@yabbs Subject: re: Trichina Be Damned Date: Fri Jun 10 21:24:06 1994 Hahahahaha I loved it Egwene ! more, more ! - Steyr From BlueMax@yabbs Sat Jun 11 05:44:39 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: Egwene@yabbs Subject: re: Trichina Be Damned Date: Sat Jun 11 05:44:39 1994 ug! thank you sir....I think I'll be avoiding the oj for a while... Blue... From Deaska@yabbs Sat Jun 11 08:14:26 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: Egwene@yabbs Subject: re: Trichina Be Damned Date: Sat Jun 11 08:14:26 1994 *chuckle* :) Deask' From bardIIII@yabbs Sat Jun 11 15:51:04 1994 From: bardIIII@yabbs To: Egwene@yabbs Subject: re: Trichina Be Damned Date: Sat Jun 11 15:51:04 1994 From Deaska@yabbs Sun Jun 12 12:24:02 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: sharp Date: Sun Jun 12 12:24:02 1994 heaviness of heart a soul rejected tears of mine start my fears projected with only a flailing hope for me to hold that anothers hate has not been sold my comfort lacking though my sorrys I send but there's nothing more harder than to lose a friend... and so I bleed. From Natalie@yabbs Sun Jun 12 12:27:29 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Deaska@yabbs Subject: re: sharp Date: Sun Jun 12 12:27:29 1994 *hugs* and more *hugs* natalie From Zbadba@yabbs Mon Jun 13 01:22:23 1994 From: Zbadba@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: A pretty monster Date: Mon Jun 13 01:22:23 1994 I wrote this poem when I was about 6 years old, and I ran across it the other day and was overcome with an urge to post it. Bear in mind that I was only 6 at the time. :) A pretty monster. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The dog wagged his tiny tail. He jumped and did a flip and ran around the mile-long house. He hid his ugly face and barked at the fence. He ran under the table and knocked it down. He had seen a pretty monster and he screamed. From Badger01@yabbs Wed Jun 15 16:32:32 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Zbadba@yabbs Subject: re: A pretty monster Date: Wed Jun 15 16:32:32 1994 This probably should ahve been posted in mind games, but I'll say it here Despite his suicide last week, Peter Davis was my best friend, and I'm going to miss his cowardly chickenshit ass. BADGER01 From Zbadba@yabbs Wed Jun 15 23:15:27 1994 From: Zbadba@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: A pretty monster Date: Wed Jun 15 23:15:27 1994 I'm quite sympathetic to your bereavment... but what did it have to do with my poem? From Badger01@yabbs Thu Jun 16 14:59:49 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Zbadba@yabbs Subject: re: A pretty monster Date: Thu Jun 16 14:59:49 1994 For some odd reason I can't explain, it made me think of it. I have a neural condition I call Siderial thinking, where unrelated concepts connect without correlation of any kind. Or at least it's as good an explanation as I am depressed. BADGER01 From sienna@yabbs Thu Jun 16 16:14:16 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Damned Date: Thu Jun 16 16:14:16 1994 The Damned i hid from you as i hid from myself; i walked inward, and kicked when you pulled me Out and said to face the world, it's what's best For me. So i became molded, and learned The dance. Which mask should i wear today? Can You wait while i try them on? And i've many Painted smiles and funny little sayings To match as well. i thought i was running, But i was standing still. And now i think i'm stronger, but i'm only hiding and Hurting, enjoying the pain because it's Real, and something i learned from You. And now i'm teaching myself that hate And the rage and death are what the masks hide. From Natalie@yabbs Thu Jun 16 19:03:40 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: The Damned Date: Thu Jun 16 19:03:40 1994 wow. natalie *hugs* From BlueMax@yabbs Thu Jun 16 23:40:19 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: The Damned Date: Thu Jun 16 23:40:19 1994 That about says it m'dear... *hugs sienna then nat* -Drew... From pbj@yabbs Fri Jun 17 02:02:03 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: Sienna@yabbs Subject: re: The Damned Date: Fri Jun 17 02:02:03 1994 have you been living my life? just curious colleen From hawke@yabbs Fri Jun 17 02:08:22 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: The Damned Date: Fri Jun 17 02:08:22 1994 Hawke walks up to sienna and hugs and kisses her. "i love you hon." From pbj@yabbs Fri Jun 17 02:10:05 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Littlie White Butter Date: Fri Jun 17 02:10:05 1994 **************** Little White Butterfly Skins **************** She opened her mouth to the coal grey sky and swallowed the little white butterfies some call snow Her breath, in the chill forms softly crashing icicles that her big, clumsy boots crush, as she presses on without a cloak in the freezing night passing those that had made her life a burning hell so hot she shed a skin that confined her like a rattlesnake's the shed skin laid at her feet as she danced in the water that had melted because of the heat they had generated He, the temporary object of her affection and lust had left because of a primary engagement -mirrors (c) 1994 aweburning i thought that everybody was complaining about the heat so much i'd give youa taste of winter.... :) colleen From hawke@yabbs Fri Jun 17 02:43:33 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: no-title Date: Fri Jun 17 02:43:33 1994 hidy dity christ all mighty who the hell are we shim sham goddamn we're the ycc fuck the farmers daughter fuck the farmers wife join up with ycc and you'll be fucked for life just a little poem from a youth conservation corp (ycc) camp i went to in wisconsin it just popped back into my mind so i thought i would share it with y'all From robtelee@yabbs Fri Jun 17 13:49:41 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: re: no-title Date: Fri Jun 17 13:49:41 1994 funny shit, man...sounds like the cadences from Uncle Sam's Misguided Children. *hehehe* From sienna@yabbs Fri Jun 17 20:54:02 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: Hehehehe Date: Fri Jun 17 20:54:02 1994 Sienna walks up to hawke and kisses him passionately and says "I love you too, hon." P.S. Cute little ditty! *smile* From hawke@yabbs Mon Jun 20 04:52:02 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: baby bumblebee Date: Mon Jun 20 04:52:02 1994 I'm bringing home my baby bumble bee wont my mommy be so prode of me I'm bringing home my baby bumblebee OUCH! he stung me I'm squishing up my baby bumblebee wont my mommy be so proud of me I'm squishing up my baby bumblebee YUCK! what a mess I'm licking up my baby bumblebee wont my mommy be so proud of me I;m licking up my baby bumble bee UGH! I don't feel so good I'm puking up my baby bumblebee wont my mommy be so proud of me I'm puking up my baby bumblebee YICK! what a mess I'm sweeping up my baby bumblebee wont my mommy be so proud of me I'm sweeping up my baby bumble bee ALL GONE! HEHEHE just a little song/poem/story to remind you of those days when you where a little kid and you used to sing stupid stuff like this HEHEHEH enjoy folks and i dont know who originally wrote this i just heard it as a kid sodont try to nail my ass for plagerism. your obediant servant Hawke From Badger01@yabbs Mon Jun 20 11:53:24 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: re: baby bumblebee Date: Mon Jun 20 11:53:24 1994 Richard Nixon is dead and writing is alive. Badger01 From blueeyes@yabbs Mon Jun 20 14:48:20 1994 From: blueeyes@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: something old i found Date: Mon Jun 20 14:48:20 1994 to: chromos, from blueeyes I love you I miss you I need you From hawke@yabbs Mon Jun 20 15:44:22 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: baby bumblebee Date: Mon Jun 20 15:44:22 1994 explain lucy what dos you mean i remain your obedieant servant hawke From Natalie@yabbs Mon Jun 20 19:43:16 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: s`0 Date: Mon Jun 20 19:43:16 1994 heheh i rememberthat one...did you do the hand motions too? natalie From sienna@yabbs Mon Jun 20 21:11:17 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: Little Deana Date: Mon Jun 20 21:11:17 1994 Hehehehehe we remember that! We love you! -The System From sienna@yabbs Mon Jun 20 21:40:31 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: no title Date: Mon Jun 20 21:40:31 1994 Heart beating in the dark; You silently lie down beside me. Lights from passing cars Play over motel walls. Trembling in the night; You take my hand in yours And patiently wait for me To make the moment right. I can see your eyes shining..... I can feel your love washing over me.... In the silence of this time I softly cry a tear; Mourning for all that has been lost In the lands of my mind. You gently reassure me In the language of your love; In the aching of my will to Be beautiful for you. I can see your eyes shining..... I can feel your love washing over me... Forever..... This is dedicated to the love of my life.....always and forever...faithfully! From hawke@yabbs Tue Jun 21 04:21:32 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: no title Date: Tue Jun 21 04:21:32 1994 Hawke blushes and lowers his face and mutters i love you to sienna From hawke@yabbs Tue Jun 21 04:22:27 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: natalie@yabbs Subject: hahaha Date: Tue Jun 21 04:22:27 1994 of course i use the hand singles hehehe mes allways use the hand signals just like the hand signals for little bunny foo foo From pbj@yabbs Tue Jun 21 13:28:55 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: Sienna@yabbs Subject: re: no title Date: Tue Jun 21 13:28:55 1994 i know how you feel..... liked it....*hugs* colleen marie From sienna@yabbs Tue Jun 21 14:18:21 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: no title Date: Tue Jun 21 14:18:21 1994 Thanks for the encouragement...it is nice to know that something which came from me actually touched someone else. Dee From batt@yabbs Tue Jun 21 17:57:26 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Sink With Me Date: Tue Jun 21 17:57:26 1994 Be alone Feel alone Lost my senses, lost my home Cover me Smother me Take a trip on my lobotomy Hate me Debate me Pay no mind, evaporate me I feel blinded, dead, and free Take your time to sink with me Arrest me Molest me Tell your friends that you detest me Find me Beside me Take your choice of personality Tear me Bear me Hold me down, exterminate me Lustfull, brainless, endless sea Before I die, just sink with me But every time I try to scream my silent sorrow Everybody wonders what happened to my head Go away, don't touch me! Bother another victim instead Buy me Sanitize me Tell yourself that I'm too crazy Hurt me Desert me Too many scars and pain on my mind Kill me Distill me Break a new friend, do your old men Standing by the cliffs you see Take one step and sink with me Sell your friendship, steal your peace Watch them laugh, we're sinking free 1994, CJ Casey From sienna@yabbs Tue Jun 21 21:42:37 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: batt@yabbs Subject: re: Sink With Me Date: Tue Jun 21 21:42:37 1994 wow....that was intense....especially since I know what that feels like...to feel completely alone in a world full of people who seem to be of another species than yourself...more brutal and more instinctual than you are....that was great...I really appreciated the post! Keep up the good work! Dee From sienna@yabbs Tue Jun 21 21:44:55 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: All Date: Tue Jun 21 21:44:55 1994 I just wanted to say that I finally got caught up in reading all the messages in this room and I must say for the most part I am impressed. I really like the ideas which get bounced around and I hope that if I share more of my own work on here that it will be taken for what it is..an offering of part of my soul...reaching out to touch one of you in the slightest way....if that can happen then it was worth the sweat and pain it took to get those words written down. Keep it up, guys! Love ya *hugs* Dee From pixy@yabbs Wed Jun 22 03:24:40 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: All Date: Wed Jun 22 03:24:40 1994 Balloonhead Sally comes to me She's a breathe of jubilence And alcohol and laughing gas A swirling smile bug of brew Whorehead Sally lays next to me She's a kiss of frankensince And a hand running up my leg A mess of lust and looks All heads knew Sally's head She's a must for gatherings And easy love and souless spirit A knowledge unknown to innocents From pixy@yabbs Wed Jun 22 03:26:36 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: All Date: Wed Jun 22 03:26:36 1994 Shit! forgot to type the last verse. Aw, fuck it--why don't one of you guys finish my poem; it's about a whore anyway, so why bother finishing it anyhow? pixy From BlueMax@yabbs Wed Jun 22 10:29:20 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: Jenifer@yabbs Subject: Love? Date: Wed Jun 22 10:29:20 1994 I think I Am In Love, Does She Know? Does She Care? I See Her Walking Past, I Hear Her Voice, Did She Say My Name? I Smell Her Fragerance, I Think I Am In Love, Does She Know? Does She Care? 2Dec'92 This was written the firs night I felt that I was motivated By Love... ^-- t Did It Work out...I'm not that lucky... From batt@yabbs Wed Jun 22 13:04:57 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: Sink With Me Date: Wed Jun 22 13:04:57 1994 thanks..being out here and working where I work, it's hard and completely thankless to drag these words out of myself, but I try to do my best... went back and re-read some of what you wrote...and you think mine was intense? look at your own... enjoy c. j. casey From batt@yabbs Wed Jun 22 14:40:04 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: thinkin' again... Date: Wed Jun 22 14:40:04 1994 What do you do when you got a fever in your head What do you do when your lover loves another instead Sometimes I don't know about my life Think I'll just get old and then I'll die Losing my mind like I sometimes lose my keys Only wanna find somebody who knows what I mean Even though it's warm I still feel cold inside Think I'll just get old and then I'll die My heart's too scarred and scratched to ever fall in love again Half the pain's from lovers, and the other half's from friends So now I'm standing outside on the cold dark porch while the party's going on inside And I'm not getting any younger, baby Now I'm just getting old and crazy... How does it feel when your life's going down the drain Do you know what it's like when your children don't know your name Everything I do turns out a waste of time Think I'll just get old, and then I'll die May 1994 C J Casey From Natalie@yabbs Wed Jun 22 14:58:39 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: batt@yabbs Subject: re: thinkin' again... Date: Wed Jun 22 14:58:39 1994 *sigh* geez...i wish i could write love poetry....but no, every time i do itturns ito a poem about either manipulating or being manipulated...ah well....*shrug* From Natalie@yabbs Wed Jun 22 16:16:51 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Chosen Date: Wed Jun 22 16:16:51 1994 this isnt mine, it's by mon cher yeats, but i thought it was cool, so i'm gonnashare it with y'all... The lot of love is chosen. I learnt that much Struggling for an image on the track Of the whirling Zodiac. Scarce did he my body tough, Scarce sank he from the west Or found a subterranean rest On the maternal midnight of my breast Before I had marked him on his northern way, And seemed to stand although in bed I lay. I struggled with the horror of daybreak, I chose it for my lot! If questioned on My utmost pleasure with a man By some new-married bride, I take That stillness for a theme Where his heart my heart did seem And both adrift on the miraculous stream Where--wrote a learned astrologer-- The Zodiac changed into a sphere. (1929) cool, huh? natalie From sienna@yabbs Wed Jun 22 18:46:26 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: batt@yabbs Subject: re: Sink With Me Date: Wed Jun 22 18:46:26 1994 Hey CJ I wasnt inplying that your stuff was bad or anything...quite the contrary...I thought it was terrific. I happen to be an intense person and so I like intense things...no offense meant! Please keep it up...I really enjoyed your work! Dee From sienna@yabbs Wed Jun 22 18:46:57 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: bluemax@yabbs Subject: To: Jennifer Date: Wed Jun 22 18:46:57 1994 Wow, hon......I am impressed. *hugs* Love, Dee From sienna@yabbs Wed Jun 22 18:55:04 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: A Desert Date: Wed Jun 22 18:55:04 1994 Hey all: I wrote this poem in February 1992 after a very traumatic experience...It is basically about me not being able to cry. Please tell me what you think...feedback is important and I cannot improve without it. A Desert The rain has all but dried Up, and the landscape has Become quite infertile; A desolate place where Life is cheap and worthless. Can you understand the Barrenness, the cold and The death, and the breath it Gives to innocent life? The air has not a voice, And yet speaks aloud when Angered, though there isn't Life around to protect. And the landscape, thirsty For rain, is terrified; Because it knows well the Tendency to flood out. So the land is dead, yet Holds onto its layers; Waiting for the rains that Will only keep adding Water to its hidden Depths; 'til the land itself Grows stagnant and dies from Drowning the inside out. From batt@yabbs Thu Jun 23 10:32:23 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: A Desert Date: Thu Jun 23 10:32:23 1994 just hit home with that one...still think your work is much more intense than mine...but thanks... keep posting...I need to read these... have fun...batt From sienna@yabbs Thu Jun 23 10:32:32 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: hawke and BlueMax Date: Thu Jun 23 10:32:32 1994 I just felt the need to say that these two are the most wonderful human beings on this planet! (Of course, I am biased) *hugs* to hawke, the love of my life. *hugs* to all my yabbs friends, especially BlueMax. *hugs* to my yabbs family, especially Natalie *smile* *hugs* to anyone else who wants one! Dee From sienna@yabbs Thu Jun 23 10:37:28 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: batt@yabbs Subject: re: A Desert Date: Thu Jun 23 10:37:28 1994 Thanks CJ...your comment was sincerely appreciated. I like to know that a particualr poem I wrote with a particular effect in mind actually evoked the intended reaction..... I did not mean to imply that your work is any more or less intense than mine I just happen to think you write deep and provoking poems...you do not seem to come across as superficial (not that any one's work on here has given me that impression). That is all. I am glad you like the poem...it helped me to get some of that sadness out of me and onto the paper.....sadness held inside to long manifests itself as anger and let me tell you, I wasn't too pleasant to be around for a while there. Thanks for the criticism...it motivates me to strive for better! Dee From Natalie@yabbs Thu Jun 23 10:39:17 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: hawke and BlueMax Date: Thu Jun 23 10:39:17 1994 aw shucks...*hugs* back at you sis (you know, I think BlueMax is pretty great too....*grin*) natalie From sienna@yabbs Thu Jun 23 11:44:11 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: hawke and BlueMax Date: Thu Jun 23 11:44:11 1994 I thought you might think so *hug* Da da da da (all dressed in white), da da da da da da da da da da da! hehehehe Mes loves hawke and blue.....yes mes does! And mes loves my sis too *hug* P.S. Faith says hello to everyone! Love, Dee From Natalie@yabbs Thu Jun 23 12:56:18 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: hawke and BlueMax Date: Thu Jun 23 12:56:18 1994 *innocent look* whatever could you be talking about? *giggle* *hugs* natalie From batt@yabbs Thu Jun 23 13:27:42 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: behind the glass Date: Thu Jun 23 13:27:42 1994 One more and then I have to stop for a while...I can only do so much of this...and so far I've been posting stuff I wrote months ago... If this is really annoying any of you, slap me or something... Behind The Glass I hurt But pain's beyond me I hurt Ignore the boundaries I feel Cold as winter sunrise I need Something no one gives me I slip past the glass I care for my mind I'm finally alone I've no need for time I'm in place With my face behind the glass. I bleed The colour of your eyes I crawl I hide from the sunrise I act I fake my compassion I break Just to see your expression Rushing past my head Bleeding on my bread Don't you think the world's Safer with me dead I'm in place Silent Scream behind the glass help me! i don't know where this leads help me! i don't know what i see find me! don't drag me back to the world kill me! i couldn't do it myself... Rape my mind Steal me blind I'm safely in place Watch me die behind the glass steal me! sell my mind like stolen food fuck me! tear apart my broken mood bury me! shroud in earth and wood forget me! as everybody should... April 1994 C. J. Casey From sienna@yabbs Thu Jun 23 14:53:41 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: batt@yabbs Subject: re: behind the glass Date: Thu Jun 23 14:53:41 1994 wow.....uh....yeah...wow. I am speechless. And you dont think your poetry packs a punch or two...geez! *hug* I am truly impressed! *smile* Please...please do not stop! I love your poetry! Love, Dee From sienna@yabbs Thu Jun 23 14:54:17 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: natalie@yabbs Subject: Uh....? Date: Thu Jun 23 14:54:17 1994 uh huh suuuuuuuuure Nat.....I see how *you* are hehehehehehe Love ya! dee From Natalie@yabbs Thu Jun 23 16:02:33 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: Uh....? Date: Thu Jun 23 16:02:33 1994 golly dee, you're confuzzling me all up now..... *grin* *hugs* natalie From sienna@yabbs Thu Jun 23 21:25:18 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Uh....? Date: Thu Jun 23 21:25:18 1994 Mes sorry! *hug* I am just being my silly self *grin* like that is so hard to believe.... Dee is craaaaaaaaaaaazy (I am in love...yeah that explains my absurd behavior...it is all hawke's fault!). Hehehehehehe Love, Dee P.S. But I am glad mes in love :) Arent I dopey? *chuckle* From Cat@yabbs Thu Jun 23 21:25:25 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Uh....? Date: Thu Jun 23 21:25:25 1994 geez nat, you and sienna ought to take it into email. :) this is the poetry base not the hugging winking grinning one...but then again, i suppose everything could be classified as "poetry". maybe you and dee and trying to be avant garde. :) if so, my responce to your poems is, take it into email :) -tammie From Natalie@yabbs Thu Jun 23 21:32:09 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Uh....? Date: Thu Jun 23 21:32:09 1994 fine, tammie...be that way....*Sob* you just don't love me anymore.... natalie From pbj@yabbs Fri Jun 24 02:02:37 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: A Desert Date: Fri Jun 24 02:02:37 1994 i know what it feels like to not be able to cry i know what it is like to not be able to stop I know what it is like to want to die i know what it is like to dry up pbj From pbj@yabbs Fri Jun 24 02:05:26 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: batt@yabbs Subject: re: behind the glass Date: Fri Jun 24 02:05:26 1994 i rilly like the stuff you've been posting lately very lyrical in quality very impassioned i have felt like that b4 pbj From pbj@yabbs Fri Jun 24 02:11:38 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: newish stuff Date: Fri Jun 24 02:11:38 1994 I wrote this b4 I went out with my most recent past guything clean and warm once again content I listen to music unfamiliar and your face will not leave my eyes A jacket borrowed a code broken the chill dissapaited by blackened leather cryptic conversation known only to the two quizzical looks replaced by feigned realization The cards reading true in a different way than was thought at first glances another bond shattered -mirrors (c) 1994 aweburning enjoy??? pbj From pixy@yabbs Fri Jun 24 03:10:26 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: newish stuff Date: Fri Jun 24 03:10:26 1994 This is about girl--it had to happen sooner or later It had to happen sooner or later, That i got floored upon one's floor, and that someone be a lady Or a woman--you see i don't Think that both need still be. And she was a Woman! And she was a woman of magnificent everything and could make me feel so above anything even from the floor. I'll never forget her velvet lined--but not coffin like--throat and candy-cane smooth voice; however the other things(memories) have faded. *I can only hope that the above isn't taken the right way* From hawke@yabbs Fri Jun 24 04:03:29 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: Uh....? Date: Fri Jun 24 04:03:29 1994 oh shore blame it on mes....mes innocent....honest you can trust me after all i am a sailor your obedient servant hawke From hawke@yabbs Fri Jun 24 04:06:04 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: newish stuff Date: Fri Jun 24 04:06:04 1994 Damn!.......what else can i say but damn. your obedienat servant hawke From Dee@yabbs Fri Jun 24 08:30:14 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: sienna Date: Fri Jun 24 08:30:14 1994 If the government can trust you, then maybe I could too? *hugs* I love you! Dee From Dee@yabbs Fri Jun 24 08:30:47 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: cat@yabbs Subject: ooops Date: Fri Jun 24 08:30:47 1994 Sorry Tammie *blush* geez I was only bein silly! Sorry again! Dee From Badger01@yabbs Fri Jun 24 10:07:11 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Blood tastes thicker than w Date: Fri Jun 24 10:07:11 1994 Rip you apart chew on the skin stretching in my jaws tugging eat your heart syrup serum runny on my face put you down in the dirt take you apart Why else did you have me? My little ode to father's day. Badger01 From Badger01@yabbs Fri Jun 24 10:12:47 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Opens Slow Date: Fri Jun 24 10:12:47 1994 You keep standing in that doorway Standing in my way in the yellow ragtattered daisy dress I slide past and walk into the kitchen Forty year old walls while you twist your face Telling me about the price of eggs when you were a girl quoting from revelations and telling me about grass taller than your head Twist the face as you try to place mine As you tell me about the war to end all ways in the air is a hint of smoke I can almost smell Gearteeth stripping behind your eyes Shorting outside as you inside as you try to say Hi Yes, I bought the bread already Gramma It's in the breadbox Not the sink Gramma the breadbox Not the stove. Look, right here, over here In the Breadbox, see? Still in progress...Version 2.3 to follow Badger01 From batt@yabbs Fri Jun 24 11:12:45 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: Opens Slow Date: Fri Jun 24 11:12:45 1994 waiting for Version 2.3...reminds me of my family... batt From batt@yabbs Fri Jun 24 11:17:21 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: newish stuff Date: Fri Jun 24 11:17:21 1994 enjoyed... batt i always thought these relationship things only worked one way with the feelings involved... thanx a lott... cj casey From BlueMax@yabbs Fri Jun 24 11:24:05 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: dee@yabbs Subject: What a mess Date: Fri Jun 24 11:24:05 1994 *sighs* Thanks dee, but your special too... *hugs nat* What should I say love? *looks at cat* so sue me! :P From sienna@yabbs Fri Jun 24 12:20:02 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Ghost of Love Date: Fri Jun 24 12:20:02 1994 This is a poem that I wrote a few years ago about an ex-boyfriend....I am including it in the book I am currently working on getting published. Comments are appreciated. Ghost of Love Loving you is like A wave upon the Rocky beach, and a Piercing thorn in my Side; leaves me stranded, Out of reach, lost in The jaws of the tide. And i reach for you, But you are not there. i felt the promise Behind the mirror. Where have you gone, so Far away from me? i reach for you, but The ghost of love long Dead escapes from me; Echoes of a summer Long lost inside hate. You are living in Consecrated lies. i gather the seeds Of vast betrayal. Where have you gone? You Left me when the tide Came for me again. Where are you now that Those who know you see You for what you are? A rock crashing down Upon my head; i heard you whisper in Your heart; you wish it Was dead; and so do i, since i am dead To you now because Our love died. It fell Stagnant, through and through. And the corpse that's left Behind begins to Rot away; as i Hear you pray falsely. Where have you gone, the Boy i used to know Well? Where are you now? The taunting sky, it Won't tell; and i look For you, but only See the ghost of love Long dead before me. Ghosts of love and hate. Well, that was pretty intense, but what can I say? Betrayal does that to a girl.......*sigh* Okay, people, I need some feedback! I hope you enjoy it. Dee From sienna@yabbs Fri Jun 24 12:20:51 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: What a mess Date: Fri Jun 24 12:20:51 1994 I really enjoy your work....I like the title of your book....mine is going to be called "The Wall, the Fire, and the Revelation" Keep up the good work! From sienna@yabbs Fri Jun 24 12:21:38 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: batt@yabbs Subject: What can I say? Date: Fri Jun 24 12:21:38 1994 What can I say except I really really love your work? You are very talented....the images you bring to mind are very clear, very poignant! Please, dont stop! Love, Dee From sienna@yabbs Fri Jun 24 12:51:15 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Fire Date: Fri Jun 24 12:51:15 1994 I found another poem I would like to post....... The Fire Black and deadly these fires burn Underscored with the taste of Hell Laughing demons scar my heart Using vices i know so well Burning higher 'til i'm all consumed Licking at my hands and feet Melting down steel walls surrounding stone 'Til the two run together and in Hell meet Where's the sky? It is covered now Filling up with charred images of you Streaking through the vast emptiness Burnt stones of little use Can you find me now that i'm dark? My ashes are blood red Like dust in the wind i've become All that i've wished for, like all things dead i've gone through the fire i've become a scattered soul i've gone through the fire i've finally gone home. hmmmmm......I was pretty down the day I wrote THAT one.....sorry if this depresses you guys....I will post an uplifiting poem next (yes I do have a few which are not inclined to drive depressed people to suicide). Thanks, *hugs* Dee From Natalie@yabbs Fri Jun 24 14:17:33 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: BlueMax@yabbs Subject: re: What a mess Date: Fri Jun 24 14:17:33 1994 *grins foolishly* uh...blue...anything you like? *hugs* natalie From pbj@yabbs Fri Jun 24 18:16:09 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: The Fire Date: Fri Jun 24 18:16:09 1994 yeah..i've felt that way b4...kinda like you just want to die and see if anybody notices...kinda like you want to leave and see if anybody follows you...i know i ve left and nobody ever follows me...so i guess when i die nobody will notice...oh well..i'll know and that's all that matters... colleen marie From pbj@yabbs Fri Jun 24 18:21:43 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: elemental Date: Fri Jun 24 18:21:43 1994 The leaping flames Of a thousand tapers Could not absolve me Of this irreproachable innocence That I feel for you The cascading gallons of a hidden fall could not wash away this ache in me an ache that is trace to you The money the World encompassed could not buy the bondage I should expierence A slavery to you And your soul So i give it one more chance And lift my tear-filed mirrors to this mid-night sky and pray for torment against this peaceful snowscape. -mirrors (c) 1994 Aweburning From pixy@yabbs Fri Jun 24 22:12:09 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: What a mess Date: Fri Jun 24 22:12:09 1994 ooh! i've seen book talk. You don't know how much that makes my mouth water. Please tell me how to go about publishing one. thanx pixy From pixy@yabbs Fri Jun 24 22:28:45 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: 4@yabbs Subject: angst Date: Fri Jun 24 22:28:45 1994 here's the beginning of one i started shortly after "growing up". I'll post the rest later when i get the shit worked out. I remember that day: 17... DAMN!!! I was such a lightning head: nightswimming in a thunderstorm, Drinking liquor like a bone-dry soul, Fast throughmailboxes driving, All stirred inside with innocence and carnal urges in a sex-colored smear on the wall. It was all such a blurr making love in a rain storm laughing at the heavens and the constant ache that 10,000 volts of carnal knowledge couldn't cure and nor could frantic moments in my room alone. *more to come soon--just in case someone cares to hear and im not simply struting and freting with sound and fury into this keyboard for my own satisfaction. (do pardon the macbeth allusion)* From Nickolai@yabbs Fri Jun 24 23:21:52 1994 From: Nickolai@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: :) Date: Fri Jun 24 23:21:52 1994 I think that... I may do... Something... That I regret... ... ... but, that's someday... other than today. -Nickolai P.S. *hug* From Natalie@yabbs Sat Jun 25 00:02:58 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Nickolai@yabbs Subject: re: :) Date: Sat Jun 25 00:02:58 1994 NICK!!!!!!!!!!!!! aieeeeee!!!!!!!!!! i've missed you SO much!!!!!!! *hugs* From Dee@yabbs Sat Jun 25 12:05:54 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: book Date: Sat Jun 25 12:05:54 1994 I am not sure of all the details yet in getting published...the Dept. Chair of English at the University of Cincinnati is the one who i shelping me to get published.....what he has me doing is editing and revising now...based upon his suggestions and the comment of others (which is why feedabck from everyone on here is so important to me). After I get my work to what I consider to be its best...then I am to go to him and he will take it from there (he himself has published a lot...I am assuming he is going to show my work to his publisher...you know what they say...it isn't what you know but WHO you know.) If you like I can try to find out this information from him...I could even show him some of your work if you would like. (let me know if you want me to show him your work because I will not unless I get specific permission from you) Sincerely, Dee From pixy@yabbs Sat Jun 25 17:09:46 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: re: book Date: Sat Jun 25 17:09:46 1994 I'd love to hear more about the process. However, i need some time to revise the hell out of all the stuff that i've done so far. thanx pixy From pbj@yabbs Sat Jun 25 18:31:44 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: more sheeat Date: Sat Jun 25 18:31:44 1994 I'm sitting here alone but crowded ignored but all eyes are on me Do i want to leave or stay and be left by those around me to, my solitary soul with nothing to hold but a shaking i don't understand it won't leave me alone constant and never ceasing ******************* next on ****************** I don't know tis a common phrase flowing from my mouth recently smoking stale camels in a dark room full of people acting, not themselves taking a breather talking to the cast of this great charade looking for someone who left without saying Hello my place empties slowly -mirrors (c) 1993 aweburning From Dee@yabbs Sat Jun 25 19:05:37 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: more sheeat Date: Sat Jun 25 19:05:37 1994 Wow. I really liked that Colleen.....I have felt that way before too. Thanks, Dee From Dee@yabbs Sat Jun 25 19:06:06 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: okay Date: Sat Jun 25 19:06:06 1994 Just let me know ok.......? *hugs* Dee From topi@yabbs Sun Jun 26 10:04:55 1994 From: topi@yabbs To: batt@yabbs Subject: re: behind the glass Date: Sun Jun 26 10:04:55 1994 I really like your poems. I really love the words. They are thought provoking words. I like the style that you use to write your poems. Anyway, just letting you know that I like them *smile* and I want you to definetally keep it up. -Love Cath. From topi@yabbs Sun Jun 26 10:20:34 1994 From: topi@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: more sheeat Date: Sun Jun 26 10:20:34 1994 gee.. that ones almost touched me. i say almost because i probably don't understand it all that much, well, not the entire thing. I like the bit"looking for someone who didn't say hello". thats definetally touching. Thinking of all the people who do just slide by into the dark of night.......... From Dee@yabbs Sun Jun 26 11:32:32 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Sun Jun 26 11:32:32 1994 no title lonely rain falling outside my window pale light dark gray skies matching the color of my heart as i sit waiting alone lost inside thunderhead memories and squirming spiders alone lost inside hanging closets and bitter betrayal inside yellow rooms inside little boxes..... emotionless tired scared rejected dark gray skies matching the color of my heart (or is it my soul which has been drained of its vibrancy?) as i sit waiting alone always alone always I just wrote this off the top of my head...please give me some feedback. Thanks, Dee From pixy@yabbs Sun Jun 26 16:55:12 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sun Jun 26 16:55:12 1994 Okay. You want feedback. here we go with a new approach. In message , Dee said: > lonely rain falling outside > my window > pale light > dark gray skies matching > the color of my heart > as i sit waiting > alone > lost inside thunderhead memories > and squirming spiders > alone > lost inside hanging closets > and bitter betrayal > inside yellow rooms inside > little boxes..... {Okay. this looks neato. Already you've shown a strong realtionship between nature and your own emotions. It's obviously stronger than a simple metaphor. Is that your intention? I wonder if you're commenting on yourselve or maybe nature, or both at the same time. Clearly, you're suggesting--your intention is irrelevant for this point--that there is a connection. You soemhow derive out of this that there is a connection in nature to what you are feeling in you mind. Is this what you want? >emotionless > tired > > scared > > rejected > > dark gray skies matching > the color of my heart > (or is it my soul which has been > drained of its vibrancy?) > as i sit waiting > alone > > always alone > > always > > {Now i see the connection between nature and the mind weakening a bit. You certainly don't have to keep a strong relationship, but why do you loosen it up? } For something that you say you took off the top of your head, this a great beginning. Personally--and i'm only suggesting at your request--Id like to see you comment on the relationship you've established in the first part of your poem. Then, make it clearer why the mind and nature seem to move apart in the end. I think this could be a very powerful and deep work of art if you'd address such issues more thoroghly. Also, just as an afterthought, I'm really curious about your rythm in this poem. In a poem relating your emotions to nature, i personally think that the rythm of the poem would be a very important issue to address(damn, i'm beginnig to talk like an design prfessor. pixy From pbj@yabbs Sun Jun 26 17:59:31 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: high school Date: Sun Jun 26 17:59:31 1994 My life ripped away beauraocrats and statistics Fucked me up They stole away my future and i am left holding ashes Pounding through my brain Helplessness and fear All I can do is stand by and watch them take it all away My pen is scrawling across the page My anger cannot be expressed Everything I care about has just been ripped away who gave you the right? to take my dreams away? certianly not me. mirrors (c) 1994 aweburning From sienna@yabbs Sun Jun 26 22:10:57 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sun Jun 26 22:10:57 1994 Ok...here goes. I wrote this because I was feeling extremely sad and didnt have enough energy to post a poem I had already written...didn't feel like typing from another piece of paper..so I went into the poetry base, selected enterage and just began typing. Whatever came to mind. Well, what came to mind (naturally) was a thunderstorm because it was actually raining this morning when I sat down to type. This poem is more of a Sylvia Plath/John Berryman kinda poem (confessional poets) because what I wrote about has extreme significance to me....thunderstorms and spiders.....because as a child I was traumitized by both.....it holds meaning to me and me only...although many could relate to being uncomfortable around them...the same thing with yellow rooms...this is symbolism which is symbolic to me only. I do not know why I worte it. I just started typing and that is what I came up with. The reason the connection between nature and emotion weakens at the end is beacuse the storm abated some. I guess I see the connection of storms and my emotions like me and my anger....the storm being nature's version of anger or pent up hostility/agression which is being released...I guess sometimes I am jealous of nature for being able to purge itself of its anger...or whatever.....I wish I could do that sometimes... Another reason is that there is a separation in my mind...a sepration or going apart that co-exists with my emotions. Once again only if you knew my story would you understand this....but I do not think it was a completely conscious thought that I weakened the connection...not deliberate.... As for the rythym I was feeling disjointed...I guess I felt removed from my sadness and depression even though I was feeling it..it was muted...I felt like I was standing back from it at arms length and examining it...yet feeling its impact on me as well. This probably makes no sense to you but I guess the only way to describe it is that I dissociated the feeling. I hope to continue getting feedback...I am so glad someone finally gave me something to think about on my poetry.....thanks pixy...it was appreciated...and is appreciated. Sincerely, Dee From Dee@yabbs Mon Jun 27 02:50:36 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Arimathea Date: Mon Jun 27 02:50:36 1994 This is a poem about losing oneself.....I named it after a lost city in Greece (gotta love symbolism). Arimathea i am lost in a dark world where even the light hides and hurts when it tries to show its face..... The illusion of love is just a farce, and death comes for those who even dare try..... Travelling slowly, like a picture that advances frame by frame, the walls between reality and fantasy become more and more thin the further i go..... And the only way out is by punching a hole through the wall which becomes a door but is really a window..... ***NOTE*** all of the poems I post from my book are raw....they are under revision...so comments would be helpful.....I just want everyone to realise that htese are in no way, shape or form finished...polished....or perfect. I need ideas people, so feel free to tell me what you like or do not like about the poems I post. Thanks! Dee From Badger01@yabbs Mon Jun 27 17:16:59 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: too long! Date: Mon Jun 27 17:16:59 1994 I write mostly stories... I'm screwed! I can't post any of it! IT'S TOO LONG!!! Badger01 From batt@yabbs Mon Jun 27 18:08:53 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: too long! Date: Mon Jun 27 18:08:53 1994 so do I! what do you write of? batt From Natalie@yabbs Mon Jun 27 19:00:21 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: batt@yabbs Subject: re: too long! Date: Mon Jun 27 19:00:21 1994 *sigh* i'm mostly a fiction writer too....but i really only have one story in progress, and it's about 40 pages long at the moment...i don'tthink anyone would appreciate that....*grin* natalie From Badger01@yabbs Mon Jun 27 20:47:43 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: batt@yabbs Subject: re: too long! Date: Mon Jun 27 20:47:43 1994 I write primarily either total fantasy or straight realistic narrative: Slightly Joycean at times, but mostly I've founf my own voice, twisted though it may be, and that's all I can say. I write about racoons, and dead families, and depression, and lack of loss, and all sorts of things....Mainly, I write about me. Yourself? Badger01 From pbj@yabbs Mon Jun 27 21:09:55 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: happyhappyjoyjoy! Date: Mon Jun 27 21:09:55 1994 hey guys i realize this is totally off the subject but my 17th birthday is friday...happy birthday to me!!!!! bye! Colleen marie From HC@yabbs Mon Jun 27 21:29:23 1994 From: HC@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Loner Date: Mon Jun 27 21:29:23 1994 Out of the shadows He walks to the cliff's edge, Cautiously looking out across his vast kingdom. He howls at everything and at nothing. He listens for the echo And it soon returns. But is it his own voice, Or that of his hidden cohorts He alone knows that answer He alone can tell For he is their brother And they are the pack He is ruled by himself alone. He is slave to nothing but his own mind. For he is Ghost-who-walks-alone. He lets out one last thunderous howl And effortlessly slips back into the darkened valley. The valley eclipsed by the ruins of a once greater time A time that shall soon return. Was he real? Or was he only a mirage from the past... Only The Trickster knows... Only the leader of the Great Ghost dance can answer... The answer is but a single howl, From the lone coyote. Then silence... -- Copyright 1994 Howling Coyote From pnovak@yabbs Mon Jun 27 22:06:49 1994 From: pnovak@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Mon Jun 27 22:06:49 1994 Pix- After browsing through lots of non-(Poetry and Creative writing) here lately, thanx for some readable criticism. I hope the base gets back to where it was! pno From Natalie@yabbs Mon Jun 27 23:07:19 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: numero uno Date: Mon Jun 27 23:07:19 1994 Surrounded by a pale light, he came, As she lay on the ground. Lifting her up, he carried her to the sky, Where she was with others Pale strange wispy creatures And she thought she would be... The Sphinx looked down Upon her tear streaked face And he cried himself (that's right folx, NEW poetry from me....) natalie From Natalie@yabbs Mon Jun 27 23:08:18 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: numero doos Date: Mon Jun 27 23:08:18 1994 I lay on the bed alone, and you joined me. You slid your hand under the edge of my shirt, Rested it on my stomach, Gently kissed my neck, And went to sleep. I woke up in your arms and was happy. natalie From Natalie@yabbs Mon Jun 27 23:12:28 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: numero tres Date: Mon Jun 27 23:12:28 1994 it infiltrates our lives like a burrowing parasite leeches off us sucking us of ourt life a vampire we feel the pull become addicted and have to be pulled away nothing can break this addiction unless we want to and the treasures it shows us are too many to comprehend deeper and deeper we go the horror the horror into the abyss dark dank and limitless we are stripped of all but out souls floating disembodied sparks of life in the machine i'd really like some comments...theseare only first drafts, so....they are a bit rough.... natalie From pbj@yabbs Tue Jun 28 00:56:28 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: numero doos Date: Tue Jun 28 00:56:28 1994 oh jeez i love that feeling.... *hugs* colleen marie "the sammich" From topi@yabbs Tue Jun 28 01:11:10 1994 From: topi@yabbs To: HC@yabbs Subject: re: The Loner Date: Tue Jun 28 01:11:10 1994 I really like the line "but is it his own voice" :) -cv From topi@yabbs Tue Jun 28 01:14:58 1994 From: topi@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: numero uno Date: Tue Jun 28 01:14:58 1994 hey, i love that.. *smile* i love the way the guys looks down on her and cries for her too... its something different. Usually you have people looking upon the sad and trying to cheer them up, and you just made him pity her as well. its different and good. What exactly is a sphinx though? i suppose i should look it up *grin* :P -Cath. From Natalie@yabbs Tue Jun 28 01:28:42 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: topi@yabbs Subject: re: numero uno Date: Tue Jun 28 01:28:42 1994 *gasp* you don't know what a sphinx is? hmmm...it's a allusion to the sphinx in 'the second coming' (like most of y'all couldn't guess that one)...a sphinx is a creature with the head of a man and the body of a lion...it's egyptian,,,, natalie From hawke@yabbs Tue Jun 28 03:22:57 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: numero doos Date: Tue Jun 28 03:22:57 1994 hey nat just wanted to say that that one made me smile. thanks your obediean servant Hawke From hawke@yabbs Tue Jun 28 03:25:38 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: stories Date: Tue Jun 28 03:25:38 1994 To all you story tellers who think there stuff is to long to post and think that noone will read well post a page here and ther i for one would read it hell i r4ead everything in here i may not comment but i do read and as for it being to long so it will just take longer to post your alll creative figure a way to post it and you might nbe surprised of the result. I remain your obedieant servant Hawke From Badger01@yabbs Tue Jun 28 09:40:17 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: re: stories Date: Tue Jun 28 09:40:17 1994 You asked for it, man...I hope I remember it right. Dissonance The taste of heat crawling in his window again, streaming all over his body made him gag, and he closed the shade and prayed that the sun would just go away. The sweat on his body was his last sweat, pulled from as deep in him as he could go, water he couldn't afford to lose. He walked to the fridge and fell over the army field pack he was using to carry his clothes around. "Motherfu..screw it." He tried to snarl, but failed, and everything went white for a few seconds. He felt heat build up inside him, and as he pulled himself up he went to the faucet instead of the barren fridge. Why get blinded by the white glare off of the bare walls? The tap water tasted rusty, but he drank it anyway, knowing nothing and being less. Actually, that's kind of a prose poem, huh? NEVER MIND Badger01 From jujubee@yabbs Tue Jun 28 10:45:12 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: numero doos Date: Tue Jun 28 10:45:12 1994 hmmmmm....that one was rather ummmmm......... pleasant........ :) jujubee* From jujubee@yabbs Tue Jun 28 10:52:18 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: HC@yabbs Subject: re: The Loner Date: Tue Jun 28 10:52:18 1994 Interesting, HC...seems to me you get into Indian literature.....[*note I did NOT call it "Native American"....I DETEST political correctness...HEY! I WAS BORN IN AMERICA, TOO!!!! DOESN'T THAT MAKE MEEEEEE NATIVE AMERICAN????] Well...enough of that..... While I was reading this poem.....my mind alluded to the novel [The Call of the Wild].....yep...brings to mind many allusions from the book.... ummmmmm.....it also reminded me of my trip to New Mexico last summer.... so needless to say, you tapped some fond memories in my mind....nice poem! *j*u*j*u*b*e*e* From htoaster@yabbs Tue Jun 28 12:43:08 1994 From: htoaster@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: re: stories Date: Tue Jun 28 12:43:08 1994 In message stories, hawke said: > To all you story tellers who think there stuff is to long to post and > think that noone will read well post a page here and ther i for one would > read it hell i r4ead everything in here i may not comment but i do read > and as for it being to long so it will just take longer to post your alll > creative figure a way to post it and you might nbe surprised of the > result. also if you have anything longer that you'd like to see on the gfiles just let me know and you can send it to me however you like (ftp or email) and i'll put it up for there. its a lot easier to read long stuff there than here, and easier for people to find if they're looking for older stuff. alex From batt@yabbs Tue Jun 28 13:02:00 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: nrs uno , dos, tres Date: Tue Jun 28 13:02:00 1994 damn...liked all three...but the second and third the best... i'm a sucker for imagery and both of those seemed to carry a lot... please...post more... enjoi... batt From Covenant@yabbs Tue Jun 28 17:32:20 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: what the hell :) Date: Tue Jun 28 17:32:20 1994 Untortured Youth Yeah, I'm here. Life sucks. Why's everybody happy? Where was I supposed to go? Who was I supposed to meet? Blood runs through my veins like shit through a sewer People seem distracted. My heroes are old men. How do they do it? Do they just give up? Should I follow them down, or should I just fucking stand up like a human should. face what you got. accept what's yours. dont' whine. Covenant (hmmmm, this is kind of fun) From Covenant@yabbs Tue Jun 28 18:02:37 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Whatever Date: Tue Jun 28 18:02:37 1994 It's been a long time. So long. Alot of opportunities missed. I let them go right by without a second thought. People tell me all of the time what I've missed. I tell them I know. It's not what they think. Hell, it's not what I think either. Would you choose a gross of mediocrity or one flawless perfection? I chose and now have neither. I'm not here to complain or enlighten. I'm hear to tell a story, sort of. Life ain't all that complicated. As a matter of fact, everything in this world is fairly simple at a basic level. Nothing is beyond man. Nothing is beyond me. One of the wisest men I have ever met once told me: There's no need to follow the Ten Commandments or any such thing. There is only one law that a true man should follow. Its simplicity only serves to help all men understand it and to follow it. Do not take it for granted. Be nice to people. Words of truth don't have to come wrapped in complicated passages and unidentifiable words. Should I say what I want through a veil of litterary tools and thereby forsake all that I believe in? No. Do I condem? No. Do I rave? From Egwene@yabbs Tue Jun 28 19:02:37 1994 From: Egwene@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: WAR! Date: Tue Jun 28 19:02:37 1994 -WAR!- As the sun gropes through the fog which creeps stealthily across the battlefield the smell of blood, sweat, and death mixes with the cries of dying men whose lives are slowly leaking away. Lying among the bloated and misfigured dead he sits. His left leg resting bouyantly on the bare extended stomach of some dead soldier and his back supported pile the piles of dead around him. He has fainted momentarily from the cadaverous stench of putrescence which surrounds him. He is blind, his eye-sockets filled with dark clotted blood from a mortar shell wound. With a cry he awakes and his fingers begin to inspect the area around him as they play over the distorted bodies of the men around. He raises himself with difficulty but falls clutching his head. Then he stands slowly and haltingly begins to move forward in a crouching motion much like a chimpanzee as he tries to feel his way around. His eyes begin to bleed again and as he sinks to the earth clutching it with useless fervor he hears someone call his name. The call comes again, faint and far away, then closer it resounds. Hysterical laughter fills the valley as one man goes mad, for it is not his name but the cry of the vultures. From Natalie@yabbs Tue Jun 28 20:18:46 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: another one Date: Tue Jun 28 20:18:46 1994 the sun is shining but it's thundering a shudder runs up my spine my insides churn this is the weather i hate it's so humid my hair is stuck to my face of course the hour long bath that i took didn't help it's tangled and all i did was look at it i want to talk to someone but that someone isn't here and i don't know what i want to do i look around my room it is so childinsh the room of the me of a year ago not the room of me now but i don't want to grow up i want to be eight again just before i got cooties before i had no friends when i was happy when i was unashamed when i was purely me and not the me that others made i admit to being a victim of society but i'm not going to whine i am stating a fact i am not going to blame my parents i am going to blame myself i got myself into this mess and i can get myself out of it (hmmm....i dunno why i've been so inspired (?) lately...this one, i just starting stringing together random thoughts i was having...) natalie From hawke@yabbs Wed Jun 29 02:31:47 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: stories Date: Wed Jun 29 02:31:47 1994 interesting , i would like to see where it goes . I remain your obediant servant Hawke From Artemis@yabbs Wed Jun 29 02:33:30 1994 From: Artemis@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Wed Jun 29 02:33:30 1994 Hi...I'm new here and a bit nervous about leaving things I've written. If you have any comments please be kind. *smile* The music pounding in her brain, thoughts bubbling to the surface. She closes her eyes and drifts away. Take another pill, make it all go away. It's not real anyway. Dancing in the rain, the dark closing in around her. She runs and runs and in her mind she escapes to some solitary Chamber. -Artemis 6/25/94 From hawke@yabbs Wed Jun 29 02:36:35 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: Egwene@yabbs Subject: re: WAR! Date: Wed Jun 29 02:36:35 1994 Damn!!! that was intense do you have more like it? Your obediant servant Hawke From Artemis@yabbs Wed Jun 29 02:37:42 1994 From: Artemis@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Wed Jun 29 02:37:42 1994 Here goes another one: It's a place of evil. They keep telling me not to go there, but I must. It's the only place where I am comforted. The memories I experience are much more evil then anything there. Memories of pain and despair, of awful words spoken and even worse things Done. I lean my head back, close my eyes an let the tears flow so endlessly. And all the while one word runs through my mind. Why? From hawke@yabbs Wed Jun 29 02:38:21 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: another one Date: Wed Jun 29 02:38:21 1994 Thanks nat. Hawke From "."@yabbs Wed Jun 29 02:47:23 1994 From: "."@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: no title Date: Wed Jun 29 02:47:23 1994 Where has the happiness gone The carefree and joyfull days of youth They are gone, far back in the past Only painfull memmories of what once was Could they be recovered Could in a new relationship they be found Onhly time can tell But as of yet the emptiness and pain remain Tattered hopes of long ago When life was carefree and joyfull From jujubee@yabbs Wed Jun 29 16:08:28 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Artemis@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Jun 29 16:08:28 1994 Welcome, newbie! :) Hey! that's MY kind of poetry...nice and dark... Come chat w/us sometime on yabbs! *j*u*j*u*b*e*e* From batt@yabbs Wed Jun 29 16:54:14 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: Artemis@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Jun 29 16:54:14 1994 Damn...I thought I was the only one here with a twisted memory. Keep posting! I can visualize what you wrote. Thanks! Batt From Artemis@yabbs Wed Jun 29 21:03:29 1994 From: Artemis@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: another one.. Date: Wed Jun 29 21:03:29 1994 Since it seems you two who did comment on my poems really seem to like them I have one or two more. Thanks for being so nice to me. I look forward to seing you on yabbs sometime jujubee. Here goes one more: Thoughts come flying at her a million miles a minute. She realizes that she has lost herself in the blackness of the pit. The voices, the hands grabbing at her in her never ending nightmare. It's all the same and every day she lives another piece of her dies. She knows the reason for the pain. She knows too much, if only the opportunity to sink into oblivion arose.1 She could disappear, she could escape. From Covenant@yabbs Wed Jun 29 23:01:09 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: apologies Date: Wed Jun 29 23:01:09 1994 hmmmm, it seems that i jump on here when ever my blood alcohol level is sufficient. If this causes a problem please let me know. I really enjoy everyone elses stuff on here and hope to see more. May the fruit of your loins be fruitful in the belly of your woman, Covenant From Covenant@yabbs Wed Jun 29 23:21:56 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: once again i babble Date: Wed Jun 29 23:21:56 1994 Finale Its staring at you as usual. Lying there, licking, stretching, staring. Just like it should. Nothing out of the ordinary. How many times have you locked it out? How many times has it come back to your sleeping body, perched on your chest, mocking you? Why not kill it? You can't. You can't do anything. It's not affected by anything you do. You're affected just by its prescence. It's taunting you. Daring you to try. Why not. It's the only thing it understands. Pain, fear, anguish. Just minor interests. Does it care really? Do you even anymore? It's scarred like you. Beaten, kicked, abused, forgotten. Nothing remains but bland disinterest. Eyes like that should show some recognition. These are the eyes of a demon. No fire and brimstone. No icy stare and hypnotic gaze. Just a look. Nothing more. No emotion. You might as well be on some petri dish in a laboratory. At least there you'd have a purpose. Some direction. It hears the click. There! The bastard finally reacts. Not much, but it reacted. It's watching you closer now. Waiting. Watching. Staring. Daring. Raving. You brought it in. You called it. It heard your cry. Time to settle your obligations. Time to set things right. You created it. Your despair conjured it up. You're the mouse in its eyes. Those wicked slits are gazing even more intently now. It's free if you try for it. But you know better. Your the one who called it. Not outloud, but nevertheless, it was you. Skin that cat. Take the goddamned bastard to hell with you. For once, and for last, you've taken charge. From Covenant@yabbs Thu Jun 30 02:56:11 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: and again Date: Thu Jun 30 02:56:11 1994 She sees me. I thought I was hidden, but she can see me. Maybe I'm just flattering myself. Maybe I'm just afraid to admit that I'm normal. To think that I don't shine-out and blind everyone scares the hell out of me. When I was a child, I thought I was the only real one. The world was mine. Just a figment of my imagination. Everyone at my beckoning. Everyone to please me. Everyone grows old. Even me though it's hard to face. The fire doesn't necessarily die, but it sinks low. Even one year changes a man tenfold. Even one love changes a man forever. Most of the time you can ignore change. Shells and walls are easy to build. Once they're up, you gain a certain familiarity. Familiar ground is comfortable, safe. It's an overused phrase, but a truth nonetheless. Sometimes you wake up and look back at what's lost. There are people I've loved and never said more that 2 sentences to. But I'll babble with a complete stranger in a bar for hours. Good friends and family are nice to have. They think I've taken them for granted. I haven't. That's one thing I'll never do, even if they don't know it. You know what kind of person you are. Passionate, alive, curious. Look at yourself through the eyes of those who know you. I have. I don't recognize myself. Not a pitiful sight, just unexpected. They've always joked that I'd be the only one happy on a deserted island. They're probably right, but that doesn't mean I prefer it. Some things are just too comfortable. Too safe. From robtelee@yabbs Thu Jun 30 06:11:29 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: re: and again Date: Thu Jun 30 06:11:29 1994 Too true, too true.... From sienna@yabbs Thu Jun 30 18:18:23 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: covenant@yabbs Subject: re: and again Date: Thu Jun 30 18:18:23 1994 Wow....for a fello Cincinnatian I am truly impressed....excellent imagery! Keep it up! Dee aka Sienna From Covenant@yabbs Tue Sep 22 02:28:32 1903 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Tue Sep 22 02:28:32 1903 There's a storm coming. I can smell it. Is it ozone or something else that makes the hair on the back of my neck rise up? I know the fact behind alot of things, but that doesn't slow my pulse. Does the wolf know of science and technology? There's still alot of him in all of us. Cover it up, be civil. Ignore the boiling blood. And we wonder why men can't coexist anymore. You can't look at someone for 5 seconds without drawing hostility. I'm gonna run. I'm gonna be free no matter what the cost. Should we reject what we've learned? No. Should we forget what we already knew? No. Even the Lamb knows when to let go. Have the meek inherited anything yet? The hunt's going on as we speak, only the pack has turned against itself. Don't deny what's inside. Even the predator respects his clan. The kill is to survive, not for a whim. The kill is a sacrament, not a vengeance. Man is a god, but he's got deep roots. Even a god is bound. He's tied down by his creations. Choose, don't hide. From Covenant@yabbs Tue Sep 22 03:09:32 1903 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: sorry: beer Date: Tue Sep 22 03:09:32 1903 She's standing. Her legs are strong. How can one be happy without self-respect? She knows that it's impossible. Shes knows a lot actually. "Bring me a man", she says. "Make sure that he's hungry." "Be sure he's strong." There's no pity in her eyes. She expects nothing less than herself. She's reminded of a wise philosopher's creedo: Before you can say the words 'I love you' you must first be able to say the word 'I'. The word is not uncommon to her. It flows off of her tongue easily. No standards are too high in her world. No one doubts her judgement. Heroe worship, admiration, respect. These she has. These she expects. It's a peer she seeks, not a fixation. She waits. From Covenant@yabbs Tue Sep 22 03:29:10 1903 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: somebody shut this guy up! Date: Tue Sep 22 03:29:10 1903 Don't look hurt like that. It tears my soul apart. If I could, I'd sweep all of the pain away. I'd gladly take it upon myself. One second of your joy is worth a lifetime of pain to me. I've dreamed about it. I wish for it. Some don't understand my motives. I am selfish. I've never said otherwise. I live for my own pleasure exclusively. How can I be more happy if you feel no pain? I can't. I'll take your pain gladly and without resistance. You are the reason I exist. I see myself all throughout you. Must I hate if I love? Dark has no meaning without light. Full has no meaning without empty. Would you know the meaning of death with only life surrounding you? That I cannnot answer, though I strive for the answer. Yet it's there, behind a veil of love and joy. I hate. I hate the fact that I can be powerless at times. I hate the fact that I can't show you how I feel. I hate building my life around you. I hate you for what I've done to myself. So why am I so happy? From Covenant@yabbs Tue Sep 22 05:12:07 1903 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: insomnia Date: Tue Sep 22 05:12:07 1903 hmmmm, i just couldn't seem to sleep tonight. I just typed 178 lines of the greatest story I had ever heard and while I was re-reading it YABBS kicked me off! too much inactive time! oh well, if you ever read ShadowLand by Peter Straub, it was the story of the sparrows chosing between their song or their wings. heheee, that's what I get for plagiarizing :) damn, between beer and insomnia, i'm wasting alot of computer memory! sorry about the ramblings, i'm not really a literary genious, but I never said I was! take care, Covenant, who is wondering why he can never get to sleep and who will choose to keep his song when the time comes. :) From Badger01@yabbs Fri Jul 1 09:18:55 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: re: once again i babble Date: Fri Jul 1 09:18:55 1994 Not bad 'atall, Cov, has a good baseline image sequence. (God, I sound so lame.) I did really like the way you shaped it, though. Badger01 From dmonger@yabbs Fri Jul 1 10:48:38 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: once again i babble Date: Fri Jul 1 10:48:38 1994 i'm amazed bny the amount of poetry that sounds better when spoken with a southern accent ... maybe the south is good for something :) -peter From anonimus@yabbs Fri Jul 1 12:38:52 1994 From: anonimus@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: blaH Date: Fri Jul 1 12:38:52 1994 She seemed so alive. When I walked through the door she wasn't breathing. I tried to forget that she didn't come around as much as she used to. But how can I judge as much as she used to? She didn't come around. I tried to forget that she wasn't breathing. When I walked through the door she seemed so alive. From Covenant@yabbs Fri Jul 1 12:58:37 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: anonimus@yabbs Subject: re: blaH Date: Fri Jul 1 12:58:37 1994 cool! short and sweet. IIIIIIIIII like it! From batt@yabbs Fri Jul 1 15:01:15 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: re: somebody shut this guy up! Date: Fri Jul 1 15:01:15 1994 somebody better not shut you upn...I save and re-read your posts and I'd lose something to do out here in the middle of nowhere...please keep going! batt From Bauhaus@yabbs Fri Jul 1 17:51:48 1994 From: Bauhaus@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: all Date: Fri Jul 1 17:51:48 1994 The Gothic Queen By: D.W. Dimok, King Jubal Dimok, Wintermoon Riverwind. "Give me instead of beauty's bust, A tender heart, a loyal mind, Which with temptation I would trust, Yet never linked with error find-" -George Darly With a touch of your delicate fingers, Grasp hold of my lonely hands, follow me into the void of life, there, were the grass is made of crystal, and the dew a haze of my blood, a cloud kingdom in the sky, rose quartz pillars overlook, pools made of glowing violet water, through the spinning nebula of colors. I cry out for you in vain, wisdom is my prisoner here, the past the manacles on my feet, a glowing orb at the heart of the kingdom, touch it and you will know love, my emotions underneath the surface, and you, the only one worthy of this gift, on my knees heaving in the castle tower, all the ancients have taken their toll, drew blood from my veins & filled the pools. I'm so alone here, but you can't see, the darkness is chaotic, incessant, empathize this sphere of malice, my life is as cold as the hard marble floor, my soul as hollow as the inside of the crypt, wishing the impossible: for you to know, many words pass through my head, emotions rise like tidal waves, and abruptly shift, berating the sand. looking up into the gray sky, a rain appears, remembering your tears, I cried with you that night, ripples breaking the walls of my kingdom, familiar emotion flooding it's lands, hiding in the shadows was love, leaping out, backstabbing me, I was helpless, hands locked together with throns, there sat a silk scarf which mended in it, where the immortal words glowing bright: Queen Wendiduerr Dimok. my gaze turned into the demons eyes, and my tears washed away any hope, reality held out a sword of which I yeild, blood gushing, forming a perfect sphere, in the center of my estranged tower, as I fall onto the marble surface, I cry out: I miss ye Wendiduerr, Gothic Queen, of whom I love, brought forth from the stars, risen from the ashes of the phoenix, molded in false beauty, broken by the wrath of humanity, it matters no more, merely my sacred oath: I love you Wendi. From pbj@yabbs Fri Jul 1 17:56:56 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: the deed Date: Fri Jul 1 17:56:56 1994 teh deed is done the dice are thrown no turning back i wonder what it will be like i wonder how to sleep the deed is done the dice are thrown no turning back a new palce a new face i wonder what to sya the deed is done the dice are thrown no turning back thought keep coming about htis choice is it valid? is it safe? the deed is done the dice are thrown no turning back how was that fro impromtu? sorry about all the spelling mistakes.. i'll see you guys after i move oh by the way..... -mirrors- (c) 1994 aweburning peace out... colleen marie From Covenant@yabbs Sat Jul 2 03:27:30 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: part one of pity Date: Sat Jul 2 03:27:30 1994 I'd just got back from riding my bike along the fence line and was playing pool with Dad and Dave in the basement. Dave had went half and half with my Dad on the junkyard on the plot of land across the road. Mom walked in crying. "Bill, Fireboss is down by the little creek behind the barn, I don't think he can get up." Shit..... we all know what that probably meant. The horse was around 15 years old and sure wasn't going to see many more. "He's just lying there! I don't think he recognizes me!" We walked over to the creek. I thought that is was nothing serious until I remembered how steep the banks were along the creek. I'd seen him grow old and scrawny but I didn't think anything serious could have happened. I'd seen stuff like this before, and stuff always seemed to work out. I could see right away that I was wrong. I'd forgot how steep that the banks could get. Here he was in a valley between two hills about 30 feet steep. I had trouble getting down that at my age, let alone as an old man. Mud. Basically, that's all I remember. An old horse, a creek, and some mud. From Covenant@yabbs Sat Jul 2 03:42:59 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: part two of pity Date: Sat Jul 2 03:42:59 1994 Immedialtely, we knew what had to be done. He was old. He'd given up on life as nature demanded. I walked back to the house. It was lying there above the fireplace. It looked cold. An old companion of rabbit hunting, I grabbed it. A box of slugs, not buckshot, came with me also. I'll not lie. I was crying. I made it down the bank and handed the shotgun to my Dad. I never want to see that look on his face again. He couldn't swat a fly without thinking about it. This was too real. Fireboss was lying in agony. I wish I could say otherwise, but that's the only word that can describe his pain. He was dying and he knew it. I know it sounds stupid, but there was a sense of finality in his pain. The end was near even without us. "I'll do it," Dave said. "It's easier if you're not attached." His words made sense, but I could see that he didn't believe one word of it. Dave was not a saint, but we'll never forget the thing that he did for us that day. I've seen him take a job while collecting welfare, and his son and I weren't unfamiliar with the 'five-fingered-discount", but I'll never say anything against him. He walked up to the beast that we loved. From Covenant@yabbs Sat Jul 2 03:51:02 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: part three of pity Date: Sat Jul 2 03:51:02 1994 My Mom cried and brushed some mud from his forehead and said her goodbyes. I stood there, strong, like a man should be, though I was about to lose a friend. It took two tries. I heard my Mom cry out once she knew that the first shot hadn't done the job. Dave had the second shot ready in an instant, thank god. It was over. The friend I'd grown up with was gone. I watched. I like to think now that it was a last gesture. I said goodbye to a friend. But I was an adolescent, and I know now that is was morbid curiosity that made me watch. We'd butchered chickens and sent steers to the slaughter, but this was different. Much different. From robtelee@yabbs Sat Jul 2 03:54:06 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: Sothern Poetry Date: Sat Jul 2 03:54:06 1994 Try listening to some old Sothern Rock-n-Roll sometimes...You might learn something....... From Covenant@yabbs Sat Jul 2 04:00:19 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: part four pity Date: Sat Jul 2 04:00:19 1994 I've caught hell from many people for what we did next, but it was all that we could do. I swear this to you: It was all that could be done. It's a valley between those banks. Even a bulldozer couldn't get down in there and he was lying next to the creek that supplied all of our animals with fresh water. I rolled the junk tires down the hill while my Mom and Dad cut up the two elms that had been lying there for the last month or so. After 6 hours and 3 different fires, we took what was left and put it into garbage bags. I'll never forget that smell. Maybe it would have been better if you couldn't see it from the road. I started to thank god that my sister wouldn't be back until tommorow. From Covenant@yabbs Sat Jul 2 04:10:38 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: part last Date: Sat Jul 2 04:10:38 1994 He died alone. I don't care what anyone says. We were there, his loved ones, but he died alone. That's no way to die: covered in mud, helpless, and in pain. I realized this as I carried my grandfather's coffin 5 years later. He refused all treatments towards the end. I thought he was crazy. Now I wonder if he was. He held my little cousin in his arms and smiled. Perhaps I know now why. I didn't cry at his funeral. I smiled. He died with pain and that hurts me to no end. But at least he knew I loved him. I hope. I did and I almost told him. 'Course he was just like me. Hopefully he can see in him what I saw. An old friend that I took for granted who left me and took alot. I don't forget. Even though his face fades everyday. From Covenant@yabbs Sat Jul 2 04:22:51 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: part five last Date: Sat Jul 2 04:22:51 1994 He died in mud, in pain, and with no hope. I'll never forgive him for that. At least make it easy on me. Hell, you're gone! You loved me! Don't you love me!?!??! I felt the same feelings as I carried my grandfather's coffin. He refused all treatment towards the end. I thought that he was crazy. I wonder now if he was. The sons-of-bitches. I'd told them at the end. I love them. What do I get? Nothing! Just a last smile, a promise of reunion. If I catch the son-of-a-bitch that did this I'll tear his heart out. Why not, he did the same to me. They sew your mouth shut. Did you know that? sorry if I'm bringing you all down, I'm in a bad mood tonight take care and don't despair, Covenant From Covenant@yabbs Sat Jul 2 06:06:20 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Cocky Date: Sat Jul 2 06:06:20 1994 You know, I'm standing here and I'm minding my own damn business. They're staring at me. They're wondering. I'm no stud. I'm no greek god. Tell them that. Tell them I could give a shit what they think. Give a woman a couple of beers and they'll jump at anything. That's a couple more than a man needs. "Hey, I'm Lisa! What's your name?". Fuck you, did I ask you to come over? "Treat her with respect" I was told. I know it's the proper thing. Treat her like shit. I know it's the thing that works. You know, I'm not going to lie. I'm a man. I have to follow the scent. But I'll be damned if I bag you just to show my friends. I know women that make you look like a child. Hell, you are a child! What are you doing in this bar? "Gee, I think I'm a little drunk." Like I asked. Like I'm looking for that right girl with my friends in a bar. "I'm drunk." yep, that's how I always pictured my love. "ummmm.. do you go to school here?" Ok. Time out. I'm getting way too old for this! Listen, if you want something come out and tell me. If not, get away from me. You sure as hell didn't come over for the conversation. Hehee, I'm bitching up a storm. I'm no stud boy but I ain't no Quasimoto. Yet I sit there trying to enjoy myself and they come up. 'Course I wonder why I came here in the first place :) Time to shut the valves. Let 'em come. I'm ready. From Covenant@yabbs Sat Jul 2 06:24:52 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: impromptu???? Date: Sat Jul 2 06:24:52 1994 I guess I should start by saying that I'll be gone for about two months. Perhaps that's why I jump on here in a drunken stupor. I feel kind of bad posting this stuff off the top of my head when I really don't know what I'm doing. There's obviously a lot of people on here that spend some serious time composing and I don't mean to take away from the atmosphere that they put forth. 'Course, I probably won't stop until someone slaps me upside the head. :) Basically, I guess I'm just asking you to bear with me for awhile. :) I guess you'll just have to put up with me until July 9. :) after that, I'm sure you'll see me around September 4 with new things to bitch about. P.S. Nat, you gotta be just about the coolest person I've met on YABBS. You should post more in here. What I've seen I like alot. I don't know art, but I know what I like! :) Covenant, babbling once again From DARKONE@yabbs Sat Jul 2 09:45:52 1994 From: DARKONE@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: alone in teh dark Date: Sat Jul 2 09:45:52 1994 alone in the dark i lie on my bed eyes wide open my heart racing as thoughts of my shadowed past race through my head, and eat away at my soul like some caustic fluid alone in the dark is where i try to find my solitude hoping one day to find peace knowing i never will From Natalie@yabbs Sat Jul 2 10:06:41 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: re: impromptu???? Date: Sat Jul 2 10:06:41 1994 cove...i post what i got...i'm not a very prolific writer...and yer pretty cool too... natalie From pbj@yabbs Sat Jul 2 10:56:05 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: one last ditch Date: Sat Jul 2 10:56:05 1994 i wrote this fairly recently and i hope somebody gets something out of it The chill of morning air Surrounds me. My sleepless eyes, smile down on you. I light my cigarette, and pause to smoke. To bring in the sweetness. You pull me gently closer, as I turn and tell you how I love youy. Two lips touching. Life blood exchanged. Your mouth tastes sweetly of wine and sweat. I curl up next to you Warmth and skin, between us, shared. I sleep for hours pulled to your chest and wake with sunlight on my face As I turn to see your sleeping form I smile at my own joke and ponder how to wake you. - mirrors _ (c) 1994 aweburning From Dee@yabbs Sat Jul 2 13:17:24 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: nuthin Date: Sat Jul 2 13:17:24 1994 I must say that all of the work I have seen on here has left me quite speechless. Dee From Covenant@yabbs Sat Jul 2 15:01:43 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: one last ditch Date: Sat Jul 2 15:01:43 1994 Thanks for brightening my day pbj! gratefully, Covenant From Covenant@yabbs Sat Jul 2 18:43:56 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: gone Date: Sat Jul 2 18:43:56 1994 She's gone. I walked away, but she left. What was I supposed to do? I know one thing, It wasn't that. I'm pretty sure I scared her away. I let too much out of the bag. How was she supposed to react? I came right out of the blue. She never saw it coming. It always worked in the movies. I think I almost made it work. The mystery kept her interested at first. How do you tell someone who hardly knows you that they're the reason for everything you do? I can tell you a few ways *not* to do it. Actually, I could tell you volumes. Why is it that the only thing I ever tried for in my life is denied me? School, jobs, friends. I never had to try. I just wait and things always go my way. Hell, maybe I shouldn't have tried with her. I just couldn't take that chance. I carry her engagement and wedding anouncements in my wallet. I felt like an idiot clipping them out of the paper. I am an idiot. It was 6 months after I had last talked to her. I think of her everyday. It sounds like a cheesey romance novel, but I think of her everyday. I'm safe now though. I got ironclad excuses not to get involved. Nine years can provide alot of excuses. I got plenty. Trust me, I use them all of the time. It's not all that bad. You can turn alot of things off and on in your heart. It gets easy with practice. I used to get heartaches. I'd never known that they actually ached. Now, sometimes, I don't feel anything. Not all of the time, but sometimes. There's no ache. Just a feelingless empty. Something's withered. The body works the same way as the mind. You can turn it off and on too. Sure I miss it sometimes. Actually, I miss the idea of what it must be like. I guess I shouldn't complain. Everything else is fine. I still feel short-changed at times though. At least I can still feel something. Getting just a little too self-important..... fuck it. From pnovak@yabbs Sat Jul 2 19:39:54 1994 From: pnovak@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: earlier posts Date: Sat Jul 2 19:39:54 1994 hey, pno captfiles po/lit stuff to read later, but he is going to print the biz about dying you wrote a few #s back. ok... From paradox@yabbs Sat Jul 2 21:28:29 1994 From: paradox@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: re: gone Date: Sat Jul 2 21:28:29 1994 Wow. I really like that one. I must say, most of the time I just read what all of you guys write on here and absorb it... but this one I had to comment on. I like it a lot... Lots of emotion in it... I like it. -'Dox From anonimus@yabbs Sat Jul 2 22:53:09 1994 From: anonimus@yabbs To: nobody@yabbs Subject: re: That Sinking Feeling Date: Sat Jul 2 22:53:09 1994 It's hard to go through life When your eyes have tasted a paring knife. Sometimes it's hard to see The distance that seperates you and me is more than an inch Of bright steel. And I know it has to clinch Your mind in the vise That was my life. You filled me up with lies So much that I'm fat. But the river from my wrist might solve that. From Covenant@yabbs Sat Jul 2 23:52:28 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: to come :) Date: Sat Jul 2 23:52:28 1994 I'm feeling sick and I'm bored. So to everyone's joy, I'm gonna post some Neil Young. :) yeah!!!! Feel free to applaud! Covenant From Covenant@yabbs Sun Jul 3 00:06:23 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Crime in the City Date: Sun Jul 3 00:06:23 1994 Well the cop made the showdown He was sure he was right. He had all of the lowdown From the bank heist last night. His best friend was a robber And his wife was a thief. All the children were killers They couldn't get no relief. The bungalow was surrounded When a voice loud and clear Said "Come on out with your hands up Or we'll blow you out of here" There was a face in the window The T.V. cameras rolled. Then they cut to the announcer And the story was told. The artist looked a the producer The producer sat back. He said "What we have got here Is a perfect track. But we don't have a vocal And we don't have a song If we could get these things accomplished Nothing else could go wrong." So he balanced the ashtray As he picked up the phone And said "Send me a songwriter Who's drifted far from home. And make sure that he's hunger Make sure he's alone. Send me a cheeseburger and a new 'Rolling Stone'." Yeah "There's still crime in the city" Said the cop on the beat. "I don't know if I can stop it I feel like meat on the street. They paint my car like a target. I take my orders from fools. Meanwhile some kid blow's my head off Well I play by their rules. Thet's why I'm doing it my way. I took the law in my hands. So here I am in the alleyway A wad of cash in my pants. I get paid by a ten year old He says he looks up to me. There's still crime in the city. But it's good to be free." Yeah Now I come from a family That has a broken home. Sometimes I talk to Daddy On the telephone. When he says that he loves me I know that he does. But I wish I could see him I wish I knew where he was. But that's the way all my friends are Except maybe one or two. Wish I could see him this weekend. Wish I could walk in his shoes. But now I'm doing my own thing Sometimes I'm good, then I'm bad Although my home has been broken It's the best home I ever had. Yeah Well I keep getting younger My life's been funny that way. Before I ever learned to talk I forgot what to say. I sassed back to my Mom. I sassed back to my teacher. I got thrown out of bible school For sassing back at the preacher. Then I grew up to be a fireman. Put out every fire in town. Put out anything smoking. But when I put the hose down The judge sent me to prison. He gave me life without parole Wish I never put the hose down. Wish I never got old. From Covenant@yabbs Sun Jul 3 00:09:14 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Soldier Date: Sun Jul 3 00:09:14 1994 Soldier your eyes, shine like the sun. I wonder why. Soldier your eyes shine, like the sun. I wonder why. Jesus I saw you, walking on the river. I don't believe you. You can't deliver, right away. I wonder why. Jesus your eyes shine, like the sun. I wonder why. ---- Soldier by Neil Young From Natalie@yabbs Sun Jul 3 00:33:57 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: impromptu Date: Sun Jul 3 00:33:57 1994 well, everyone else is getting on this impromptu thing so i guess i'll hop on the bandwagon...here goes nothing... sing it for the dead man listen to the tune echoing in the small white chamber of my mind feel it in my veins a drug i cannot shake the dead man knows these things he whispers to me at night when i sleep when i dream when i'm not listening when i want him to shut up he tells me to sing it his cold bony fingers caress me and touch me and make me feel so good and then when i think he is finished with me he reaches into my chest tears out my heart and eats it hmmm...i have no idea where that came from. but enjoy it anyhoo... natalie From pixy@yabbs Sun Jul 3 00:42:52 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Sun Jul 3 00:42:52 1994 writing is the biggest creative rush i've ever felt!!! pixy From Natalie@yabbs Sun Jul 3 00:49:56 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sun Jul 3 00:49:56 1994 moi aussi... natalie From pixy@yabbs Sun Jul 3 00:55:53 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sun Jul 3 00:55:53 1994 Here's some new shit from the pixy--AW YEA!!! There is no facing fate A deadbeet I am--REPENT! Oh god do i wish I could, And not know of things As terrifying as eternity. I was 8 when i saw hell come By the pool deep as a deadblue sky. Forever shouldn't worry kids. Why did He want to beat up a kid? But, yes, he surely did. And now..now what is there, But to suspend my mind, to Forget fate? desensitize And then, yes then, maybe I can take back my God. I want to be unaware I want to be normal I want to be normal I want to be normal I want to be normal..... Okay, now i'm expecting much and much critical criticisms. Dee, I think you owe me one. the pixymonstermanmachine From Covenant@yabbs Sun Jul 3 01:14:12 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Hymn Date: Sun Jul 3 01:14:12 1994 O God of Earth and Altar, Bow down and hear our cry, Our earthly rulers falter, Our people drift and die, The walls of gold entomb us, The swords of scorn divide, Take not thy thunder from us, But take away our pride." G. K. Chesterton: English Hymnal From Covenant@yabbs Sun Jul 3 01:26:09 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Hello in There Date: Sun Jul 3 01:26:09 1994 We had an apartment in the city And me and Loretta liked living there I'd bee years since the kids had grown A life of their own And left us alone John and Linda live in Omaha And Joe is somewhere on the road We lost Davy in the Korean War I still don't know what for Don't matter anymore You know, that old trees just grow stronger And old rivers grow wilder everyday Old people just grow lonesome Waiting for someone to say Hello in there Hello Me and Loretta, we don't talk much more She sits and stares thru the back door screen And all the news just repeats itself Like some forgotten dream That we've both seen Someday I'll go and call up Rudy We worked together at the factory But what could I say when he asks "What's new?"? Nothing, what's with you? Nothing much to do You know, that old trees just grow stronger And old rivers grow wilder everyday Old people just grow lonesome Waiting for someone to say Hello in there Hello So if you're walking down the street sometime And spot some hollow ancient eyes Please don't just pass them by and stare As if you didn't care Say hello in there Hello Hello In There --- by John Prine it just seems that robtelee and I have an age fixation lately :) thought this was appropriate. From Covenant@yabbs Sun Jul 3 01:36:06 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Six O'Clock News Date: Sun Jul 3 01:36:06 1994 Wanda had a baby in 1951 The father was a stranger And a stranger was the son Call that child James Lewis Call these rooms a home Changing all those diapers Polish all that chrome C'mon baby, spend the night with me All around the schoolyard Playing all the games Running, laughing back and forth The kid with two first names Stranger in the closet Lock the diary The past is running faster Singing harmony C'mon baby, spend the night with me "God bless this kitchen" Said the knick knack shelf "Dinner's almost ready Go and wash yourself" Jimmy's growing up now And Wanda's growing old Time is growing shorter The nights are long and cold C'mon baby spend the night with me Sneaking in the closet And thru the diary Now, don't you know all he saw Was all there was to see The whole town saw Jimmy On the six o'clock news His brains were on the sidewalk And blood was on his shoes C'mon baby, spend the night with me. Six O'clock News --- John Prine guess i just got carried away with John Prine From Covenant@yabbs Sun Jul 3 01:45:06 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Pretty Good Date: Sun Jul 3 01:45:06 1994 figured i'd better end my song quoting on a lighter note :) I got a friend in Fremont And he sells used cars, you know When he calls me up Twice a year Just to ask me how'd it go Pretty good Not bad I can't complain But actually everything is just about the same I met a girl from Venus And her insides were made of gold Well, she did what she did And said "How was it kid?" And she was politely told Pretty good Not bad I can't complain But actually, everything is just about the same Moonlight makes me dizzy Sunlight makes me clean Your light is the sweetest thing That this boy's ever seen Molly went to Arkansas And got raped by Dobbin's dog Well she was doing good Till she went in the woods And got pinned up against a log Pretty good Not bad She can't complain 'Cause actually all them dogs are just about the same Moonlight makes me dizzy Sunlight makes me clean Your light is the sweetest thing That this boy's ever seen I heard Allah and Buddah Were singing at the Savior's feast And up in the sky An Arabian rabbi Fed Quaker Oats to a priest Pretty good Not bad They can't complain 'Cause actually, all them Gods are just about the same Pretty Good -- John Prine From Dee@yabbs Sun Jul 3 05:01:06 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: Your last post Date: Sun Jul 3 05:01:06 1994 Pixy: I liked this poem...the visual images were good.....although I am not quite sure what you meant in it...perhaps this was your intention? I could see it being a story told from your perspective...it almost seemed like you were describing a near drowning experience, either of yourself or someone you knew....was the poem in fact in your voice? And what of the stress on "dead", either in sense or word? (Ex. Deadbeet (sp?), deadblue). Also, what was the significance in the repetion of the line "I want to be normal?" All in all a nice poem, one that made me think about innocence and how much for granted some people take childhood innocence...sometimes the echo of children's laughter is enough to remind me of just how much I have lost. Thanks for the poem..... Dee From topi@yabbs Sun Jul 3 08:34:21 1994 From: topi@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: one last ditch Date: Sun Jul 3 08:34:21 1994 Hmm.. smoking the cigarette is really grose... makes ya wanna puke, and especially how it is mixed in with the rest of it -which is pretty much a love poem. I dunno what the joke is.... should I be intrigued? :) -Cath. From topi@yabbs Sun Jul 3 08:36:01 1994 From: topi@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: one last ditch Date: Sun Jul 3 08:36:01 1994 Hmm.. maybe I should read more then once before I reply.. I do like the end. :) From topi@yabbs Sun Jul 3 08:41:14 1994 From: topi@yabbs To: anonimus@yabbs Subject: re: That Sinking Feeling Date: Sun Jul 3 08:41:14 1994 arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... yuck.. thats evil.... It sorta makes my skin crawl.. when i read that last line. You should never let anyone,especially yourself, make you feel that way. and whats it gonna solve? (sorry.. had to put the counselling bit in...) From batt@yabbs Sun Jul 3 11:37:19 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: awake? Date: Sun Jul 3 11:37:19 1994 First let me tell you that I love reading everybody's work on this board. I've always had a lot of trouble showing off what I write, and seeing everybody else posting helps with the encouragement. This one came somewhere out of the middle of 4 hours sleep in three days...slap me if it ain't that good... Vision on hand of a mind done cracking Wish for a washed-out bloodshot moon Visible traces of my drug inflection Cleaned ironed faces swim in my gloom Sidistic paintings torn and shifted Mine all left and walked away And still you tell me I'm worth living Turn off the lights, I'll fade away "It's okay" she screamed "Everything is dreamed" I just want to wake up for good Read my lines and said they touched you Read my mind and ran away Take your time to burn what I'm thinking Ignore the stupid things I say I run down the opposite highway I step under oppressive souls I stay calm with my neck on fire I stay hidden, and drowned in my hole "It's okay" she screamed "Everything is dreamed" I just want to wake up for good Twist the crawling darkened sphere Twist the crawling homegrown fear Turn the craving in your ear Drown you mind in rancid beer "It's okay" she screamed "Everything is dreamed" I just want to wake up for good July 1994 C. J. Casey From batt@yabbs Sun Jul 3 11:39:00 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: posts... Date: Sun Jul 3 11:39:00 1994 and to everyone who's been posting much better work than mine...thanx...! Please keep going...the very least is inspiring, and the very best leaves me awestruck. As long as it comes from the general vicinity of teh soul, I want to see it... thanx again... batt From Death@yabbs Sun Jul 3 12:56:59 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: yabbsfest Date: Sun Jul 3 12:56:59 1994 Everybody (or almost everybody) here on yabbs wonders what everyone else is like in "real" life... To this end, I'm announcing that a bunch of us have gotten together to organize a party!!! We've decided that at some as yet undetermined point in time, anybody from Yabbs that wants to is invited to come to Pittsburgh, the birthplace of Yabbs, where we will all get together for a weekend or so of fun :> The reason the time is still undetermined is because we need everyone who wants to come to let us know when would be a good time for them... Email me with questions, comments, suggestions, and what time would be good for you at: death@cyberspace.org See you there!!! --Death PS... I put this message in every base on the off chance that EVERYBODY might actually get to see it :> From Dee@yabbs Sun Jul 3 19:36:43 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: You Frown, God Frowns Date: Sun Jul 3 19:36:43 1994 You Frown God Frowns White walls covered with Scarlet, ruby-red stains Matching my pains. Echoing hollowed screams From basal base to crown And town to town. Running from danger Holding in all my anger Puzzling, Puzzling You frown. Yellow rose petals Vastly scattered on my bed Screaming in my head. Molesting good morals Tempest inviting original sin Falling again and again. Running from my humanness Banished from holiness Puzzling, Puzzling God frowns. I wrote this as a Sylvia Plath style poem for my Contemporary American Poetry class last term......I would love to hear some feedback, even if you don't understand it (which you aren't really meant to since it is a confessional poem and has meaning only to me...you have to know my past in order to understand some of the images like the white walls covered in scarlet and the yellow rose petals scattered on my bed....). Pixy, I think it is your turn to do the honors....And anyone else (batt *cough*) who might want to comment please do...we all can benefit..ask questions, give impressions, try to analyze it, try to make it personal...isn't that what it is all about? I do NOT write poetry for poetry's sake....so comment! *hugs* (to those who want them!) Dee From BlueMax@yabbs Mon Jul 4 03:06:27 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: re: You Frown, God Frowns Date: Mon Jul 4 03:06:27 1994 *sweeping bow* I am amazed with your skill once more M'Lady... Your Servent, The Blue Knight... From Terrius@yabbs Mon Jul 4 17:02:57 1994 From: Terrius@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: One Perfect Silicon Rose Date: Mon Jul 4 17:02:57 1994 One Perfect Silicon Rose ------------------------ The symbolism of flowers is dead - all difficulty in finding beautiful plants reduced to a capitalist question of grocery stores and corner shops exchanging green for green. In barren minds and fertile soil lies an emptiness world of meaning - where burning romances in heat of lust reach past Sony to grasp organic choking life after life. Welcome to primitive modern times where love entails a movie fare and like foolish, foolish natives - our hearts are won with trinkets filling voids with voids. -Tb me bitter no never From Natalie@yabbs Mon Jul 4 19:19:56 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Terrius@yabbs Subject: re: One Perfect Silicon Rose Date: Mon Jul 4 19:19:56 1994 hmmm...i really like this...i like the speaker's disillusionment with the modern world...(of course, i am probably the most literarily conservative person around here *grin*) natalie From Terrius@yabbs Mon Jul 4 20:08:43 1994 From: Terrius@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: Incognito Date: Mon Jul 4 20:08:43 1994 I n c o g n i t o ----------------- Higher higher mountains of disease pile and I watch the sickly growth and then as the landslide it falls. Mirror mirror cruelly mandates it must be scarred red blood it must be beyond recognition. Closer closer get a lasting view this showcase of my affliction living proof that air can burn. Watch watch what I can make you I have cold fire in a bottle ...you could be a mystery too. -Tb analysis of existence? No. analysis is existence? Yes. From dmonger@yabbs Mon Jul 4 20:43:41 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Mon Jul 4 20:43:41 1994 I was always fond of set design ... not quite the same but i've always been a crew sort of guy. -peter From Covenant@yabbs Mon Jul 4 23:03:31 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Mon Jul 4 23:03:31 1994 the beauty of Man is unsurpassed on Earth fluid movements of the Mind the only of his kind self-appraising his worth. mother Nature moves on around him he controls her with silver spurs though never on a whim less than sixty years have passed first Man in flight first to see moonlight the force of Reason provides a mast. show me one who's matched his brilliance show me now though I don't know how even god shows acquiescence. heheee, this probably explains why I only do impromptu :) I realized it has no rhythmn, but it rhymes! ..... sort of... Oh well, it's just that when ever I try to write a 'real' poem, it usually turns up being a song. :( Oh yeah, I'm sorry about using 'Man' and 'him' but anyother words seem uncomfortable to me. Sorry ladies, you're included in there though. :) From Covenant@yabbs Mon Jul 4 23:54:32 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Path Date: Mon Jul 4 23:54:32 1994 welllll, speaking of songs, here's one I've been working on but i haven't finished. Wrote a song about it, wanna hear it, goes something like this :) The Path In the year they deemed one, there was born a man. To woman pure of gold, and untaken hand. One moment with her love, her childhood gone. A new begining now, she's bourn a son. He is the man He'll understand He'll bring us love and light My love we've been unclean, no one must know. To be unwed this way, we must surely go. The city seems to be, our only hope. To blend and loose ourselves, somehow we'll cope. He is the man He'll understand He'll bring us love and light Too many days of hunger, and shattered dreams. The whole world looks down on us, or so it seems. My love remember now, those tales of old. One man will come to us, with love so bold. The prophet's word We must be heard Our son brings love and light I looked up on that dark and lonely night No magic in the air just a nova so bright To be raised, as a god, I'm just a man I feel to, I cry too, someone understand No way out, I'm caught here, my course is set To teach love, I must try, there's time to yet that's about I far as I get. I just can't seem to end without getting too bitchy. I want to keep the sarcasm going, but not too 'in your face'. oh well, later, Covenant From Covenant@yabbs Tue Jul 5 00:21:00 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Old Laughing Lady Date: Tue Jul 5 00:21:00 1994 I know some of you may not like this, but you might find it interesting. What the old lady is, it pretty much up to you, but I can't help but get blown away everytime I hear this. The Old Laughing Lady Don't call pretty Peggy, she can't here you no more. Don't leave no message, 'round her back door. The say the Old Laughing Lady, has been here before. She don't keep time, she don't count score. You can't have a cupboard, if there ain't no wall. You gotta move, there's no time left to stall. They say the Old Laughing Lady, dropped by to call. When she leaves, she leaves nothing at all. See the drunkard of the village, falling on the street. Can't tell his ankles, from the rest of his feet. He loves his Old Laughing Lady, 'cause her taste is so sweet. But the Laughing Lady's loving, ain't the kind he can keep. There's a fever on the freeway, blacks out the night. There's a slipping on the stairway, just don't feel right. And there's a rumbling in the bedroom, and a flashing of light. There's the Old Laughing Lady, everything is alright. The Old Laughing Lady -- by Neil Young From BlueMax@yabbs Tue Jul 5 09:19:11 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: ant@yabbs Subject: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 09:19:11 1994 I have a love...so far away... When we speak it is at the wrong ends of the day... My love lays sleaping, while I walk...thinking about her... She walk's to her day while I toss and turn, dreaming of her... We are seperated by miles...miles of wires... ...and yet she is closer to my home than me... Close in one sense...too distant on the other... the wire that see's us so far apart... can it truely draw us close together? When My sun is riseing...hers has already set... We are seperated by miles...miles of wires... [This is'nt the original form, but I think it says the same thing] [ love ya ] From sienna@yabbs Tue Jul 5 10:17:05 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: BlueMax@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 10:17:05 1994 WOW Uh........ WOW.......just......completeyl amazing.......uhhhhhhh...... I am left speechless....... BlueMax: I know EXACTLY what you are saying....... I especially loved the line "When my sun is rising...hers has already set" WOW.....has hawke seen this? *ahem* Just curious. Damn, Blue....Very moving. Dee P.S. This may be only because I identify with it so well, and the fact that I love ya! *hug* *hug* (what the hell, another one) *hug* P.P.S. Ant - you are one lucky girl! *hug* love ya sis! From Natalie@yabbs Tue Jul 5 11:11:06 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: BlueMax@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 11:11:06 1994 aw shucks...you're so sweet... *hugs* love ya... natalie From BlueMax@yabbs Tue Jul 5 11:37:53 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 11:37:53 1994 It tis what I feel love, and perhpsis a little more... Yours, 'blue... From BlueMax@yabbs Tue Jul 5 11:46:36 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 11:46:36 1994 *hugs* thanks for the kind words... The words and feeling where bounceing around for a bit...the feelings are still there...will more words follow...*shrug* I think there is still more to be said...and we shall see... Your servent, The Blue Knight From dmonger@yabbs Tue Jul 5 15:51:37 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: BlueMax@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 15:51:37 1994 retch, gack, choke, ugh ... too sweet in here :) -peter From Dee@yabbs Tue Jul 5 16:00:26 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 16:00:26 1994 Not a romantic, eh? From dmonger@yabbs Tue Jul 5 17:43:54 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 17:43:54 1994 igh ... nope From buzzbomb@yabbs Tue Jul 5 19:21:32 1994 From: buzzbomb@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: well ok... Date: Tue Jul 5 19:21:32 1994 i've never posted here and actually usually don't let anyone but a couple close friends read what i write, so here goes: Self-torn skin life flows out with blood burning agony sends tears to eyes and thrill to the heart. Energy drains as the body collapses. The mind quickens, senses become unreal. Touching the pain brings pleasure, taste of blood is comfort. Seeing all is over, why hold back? Hate, love and fury flood the being as a last evidence of the soul in the body. But nothing can be done as the will is lost and the lifelong grip on the past slips into nothingness without regret. . . call it depressing, call it cheesy, i call it "Self Torn Skin" for lack of a better name... -tom From Faith@yabbs Tue Jul 5 20:05:11 1994 From: Faith@yabbs To: bluemax@yabbs Subject: wow Date: Tue Jul 5 20:05:11 1994 I must say I loved the poem blue. *sigh* My brothers and sisters all so happy. *hugs* to Sienna, hawke, bluemax, and Natalie. Hope to see more of your stuff here y'all. Maybe I'll even post something someday. If I can happy again someday. Everything has just been kind of dark and dreary lately. Lots of love. Faith From jujubee@yabbs Tue Jul 5 20:16:03 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 20:16:03 1994 OH GET A LOVER ALREADY, BIG D! ;) hehehehe *wink* From Artemis@yabbs Tue Jul 5 20:19:47 1994 From: Artemis@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: wheels in motion Date: Tue Jul 5 20:19:47 1994 I reach into the water to pull out my heart.... I grasp at the air to retrieve my sanity. All is lost, everything is broken Nothing can be changed the wheels have been set in motion and they are spinning faster and faster. Talk as I cry and cry as I laugh. Nothing has changed, all is lost, and everything's broken From jujubee@yabbs Tue Jul 5 21:18:13 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Artemis@yabbs Subject: re: wheels in motion Date: Tue Jul 5 21:18:13 1994 yep, like your style, Artemis...short, sweet, and CHOCK FULL of imagery and meaning..... From anonimus@yabbs Tue Jul 5 21:35:03 1994 From: anonimus@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: It's a wacky, wacky, wacky, Date: Tue Jul 5 21:35:03 1994 Once I heard a noise but it was late at night and I decided to sleep through it. Day. So there I was and there she was and there we was in my backyard. And I thought I could seduce her either that or lose her it was the next morning by the way. "I am not of this world," she kept saying to me. I could see that right away. It might have been her arms. She had so many of them. Or maybe her bright green, bushy, sharp, hard, prickly, saw-toothed, unyielding, definitely unconditioned hair. It was a mess. And green. I asked her if she dyed it. "It's natural," she whispered. She took me into her arms and arms. She was holding me too tight so I decided to back off. "I am not of this world," She was saying to me. I looked around to make sure that no one saw that I was talking to the tree. From dmonger@yabbs Tue Jul 5 22:00:14 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 22:00:14 1994 I keep trying but none of the stores around here sell them. i was gonna make my own, but this old guy at the graveyard kicked me out what should i do? -peter From GPF@yabbs Tue Jul 5 22:04:10 1994 From: GPF@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 22:04:10 1994 i think jeffery dahmer had some spares...... his address is jdahmer@alcatraz.gov ...gpf From jujubee@yabbs Tue Jul 5 22:38:13 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 22:38:13 1994 ummmmm...i think GPF had a pretty good plan...if i think of something better, i'll letcha know! uhhhh....didja ever consider putting an ad in the National Enquirer??? From robtelee@yabbs Tue Jul 5 22:42:51 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 22:42:51 1994 too bad...we could use some more romantics.... From Covenant@yabbs Tue Jul 5 23:53:01 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: ;) Date: Tue Jul 5 23:53:01 1994 Dig.. Dig.. Dig.. I got an arm. Dig... Dig... Dig... I got a head. Dig... Dig... Dig... I got my baby now, but she's stone dead. From dmonger@yabbs Wed Jul 6 00:31:03 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: distance is nothing Date: Wed Jul 6 00:31:03 1994 something to think about when you're lamenting about being so far away from someone. no mater how far apart you are, the moon you see is the one they see, so if squinch your eyes up really really tight and try really really hard, you can see their reflection. so, look up at the moon, scrunch up your eyes, and wave not really a poem, but it seemed poetic to me somehow -peter From Covenant@yabbs Wed Jul 6 01:00:37 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: distance is nothing Date: Wed Jul 6 01:00:37 1994 wow. i like it! whoever said you're not a romatic was way wrong! From Natalie@yabbs Wed Jul 6 01:16:47 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: re: distance is nothing Date: Wed Jul 6 01:16:47 1994 i concur :) natalie From Covenant@yabbs Wed Jul 6 01:22:37 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: goodbye Date: Wed Jul 6 01:22:37 1994 just saying goodbye to all for the summer thanks for putting up with me and i'll see you around sept 3 take care, Covenant (Bill Brocklehurst) From Tiamat@yabbs Wed Jul 6 08:15:57 1994 From: Tiamat@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: the soul Date: Wed Jul 6 08:15:57 1994 writhing in agony the searing light of understanding sends shockwaves of pain across the surface of the mind to late is realized the damage done by a lie a lie lived in hopes of love but a lie that ends the flame and leaves the emptiness behind to never be filled From Badger01@yabbs Wed Jul 6 08:58:32 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: re: impromptu???? Date: Wed Jul 6 08:58:32 1994 Sorry to see you go, duder. OIr Dudette. Badger01 From BlueMax@yabbs Wed Jul 6 10:48:45 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: Tiamat@yabbs Subject: re: the soul Date: Wed Jul 6 10:48:45 1994 I just have one thing to say... WOW... From BlueMax@yabbs Wed Jul 6 10:50:52 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: re: goodbye Date: Wed Jul 6 10:50:52 1994 Good travals sir... Your work will be missed... Your Servent, The Blue Knight From Selene@yabbs Wed Jul 6 13:20:36 1994 From: Selene@yabbs To: anonimus@yabbs Subject: your poem Date: Wed Jul 6 13:20:36 1994 I really liked your last poem. May I ask what inpsired it? Anything in particular? I think your work is rather dark, but since I am dark and twisted it seems good to me. I may be posting poetry here too soon. If I ever find anything I have written. Selene From Selene@yabbs Wed Jul 6 13:23:39 1994 From: Selene@yabbs To: Artemis @yabbs Subject: re: your poem Date: Wed Jul 6 13:23:39 1994 I've read your stuff and I seem to be able to relate to it so well. Same question to you as to anonimus. What inspires you? I tend to write dark things myself. Personal reasons though. Selene From Selene@yabbs Wed Jul 6 13:25:29 1994 From: Selene@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: re: goodbye Date: Wed Jul 6 13:25:29 1994 Hi, well I am kind of new here, but i must say I did enjoy your poetry so. Hope you have a good summer and I look forward to reading more stuff in the fall. Selene From anonimus@yabbs Wed Jul 6 13:38:19 1994 From: anonimus@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Part One Date: Wed Jul 6 13:38:19 1994 Soundtrack: 10 Wheels For Jesus by Elvis Hitler It gets really hot in the city. At night I just want to take off my clothes and walk throught the streets. Me and Tom and Max (we always called him maxi pad) had nothing to do. So we stole one of my old man's bottles and took off in Tommy's car. It was a piece of shit big assed Ford and it didn't have air. "We ain't got gas to go nowhere. Shit. Let's go to the river." Tommy always wanted to go there. We all did. It was cool and there were no people. Once in a while there'd be a deal or something but it was mostly quiet. Tom and me were 20. Max just turned 19. When you're 20 you're too old to fuck high school girls and too stupid to get college girls and life sucks. The river helped though. It was cool. It wasn't afraid. From pixy@yabbs Wed Jul 6 16:00:00 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: Terrius@yabbs Subject: re: One Perfect Silicon Rose Date: Wed Jul 6 16:00:00 1994 Yea, now we're talking! that one made me think. I thought it had alot of unity and power to it. keep working. pixy From pixy@yabbs Wed Jul 6 16:01:59 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Jul 6 16:01:59 1994 In message re: , dmonger said: > I was always fond of set design ... not quite the same but i've always been a > crew sort of guy. huh? set design? pixy From pixy@yabbs Wed Jul 6 16:28:38 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Jul 6 16:28:38 1994 In message re: , pixy said: > Here's some new shit from the pixy--AW YEA!!! > > There is no facing fate; > A deadman I am--REPENT!-- > Oh god do i wish I could, > And not know of things > As terrifying as eternity. > > I was 8 when i saw hell come > By the pool deep as a deadblue sky. > Forever is deeper than my deadblue pool. > Why did He want to beat up a kid? > But, yes, he surely did. > Time is something deadening, To understand it is to sacrifice The free oceanheaded mind of An 8 year old--REPENT!--No, My regrets are all spent > And now..now what is there, > But to suspend my mind, to > Forget fate? desensitize > And then, yes then, maybe > I can take back my God. > > I want to be unaware of God'd final plans; > I want to be normal > I want to be normal > I want to be normal > I want to be normal..... > Basically, this poem--I wrote the first draft when i was drunk--is an attempt to grasp what i felt the first time i tried to understand the concept of eternity. It made me feel hopeless and everything futile. I could never find any comfort from the fear of eternity, all I could do was try to forget it. Since that first time i felt fear over eternity, ive only felt that same feeling three times. Usually i can accept the idea without thinking about it enough to get a panic feeling--that's what i meant by desensitize--but when it has struck me with panic, the panic and depression usually last for about two to three months at a time. And that panic feeling is the worst in the world. I would rather be killed than to feel the panic of eternity. So far, I've not met anyone that has this same fear--nor anyone who could even understand what i was talking about.has understood it the same way i do. So, i kept it personal. I don't even think i want anyone to understand this fear of mine--the pain is so awful when it comes that I could never will it on another. Thus, most of this makes sense only to me, but it is good to get it off my chest. I did another poem about this that i posted maybe thre hundred posts ago. I made it about loneliness, because most people understand loneliness. I need to go back and take a look at that one. > the pixymonstermanmachine > > From dmonger@yabbs Wed Jul 6 17:15:54 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: re: distance is nothing Date: Wed Jul 6 17:15:54 1994 In message re: distance is nothing, Covenant said: > wow. i like it! > whoever said you're not a romatic was way wrong! nope, works for friends, lovers, pets ... antyone you care about. no romance reuquired :) -peter From dmonger@yabbs Wed Jul 6 17:19:34 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Jul 6 17:19:34 1994 as opposed to playwriting ... since thisthe only oartsy board on yabbs that i have seen . its quite a creative high in and of it self ... its easy to picture a play in your head, quite anotherr thing to build it yourself -peter From sienna@yabbs Wed Jul 6 20:56:50 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Matter of Perception Date: Wed Jul 6 20:56:50 1994 This is something I wrote a ewhile ago...maybe art....maybe rambling...interesting I hope, and from the ehart...so enjoy. Jenna had a revelation. A thought. A random whirring of her mind which led to other, more cpomplex thoughts. She was struck with the fact that she will die someday. Of course, this wasn't the first time this revelation had come to her. Although she was only twenty years old, her life had been filled with indescribable pain and trauma. She realized, all at once, how totall small she was in the scheme of things - how totally, and utterly, insignificant. And for a moment, free of regret and nearly without emotion of any kind, she understood that she belonged completely to herself. Like her childhood, she had been torn apart and glued back together with shame, self-hate and shock. She frightened herself with the depth of her anger. It had the violence of all unfinished things; of everything interrupted or left undone. In this violence there was a sense of yearning - the yearning for completion. For an end. For that which is absent, and would, if present, bring fulfillment. Jenna sat staring out at the rose garden, absent-mindedly hugging ehr knees to her chest as she wondered where this anger came from. "Where does it hide?" she asked herself. Some massive knowledge seemed to move inside of her, thrusting powerfully up from the depths and darkness where it had once been jailed...and all at once, she understood that her very existence depended upon keeping this knowledge buried within her - in a golden casket within a silver casket within a leaden casket. Her anger is a wild beast with claws and teeth, a tiger, and this tiger threatened to surge into her conscious mind and destroy her. She began panting from the force and threat of this emotion locked away within herself. She became aware that she had not fainter or dies, which was how she felt, but it was, just then, and only for a second, as if her mind had been hurled through some dark barrier. And then, just as quickly, it was gone. A thick shield had slammed itself back into place, where it belonged. Jenna thoughtfully twisted her long brown hair around her forefinger as she contemplated her existence. It seemed like she set up situations destined from the first to fail. Her thoughts bent towards her relationships. She didn't understand this world. All about her were creatures of another species, more instinctual, more brutal than her. They walk past her...unnoticing, uncaring. "It has to do with *inwardness*," she thought to herself. This was as close as she could come to a connection. Thise creatures, they were external. Her thoughts, though, they lead her inward, and inward is where everything important lies. She felt as though her entire life could be seen as a demonstration of this priniciple. "What matters most about my life took place entirely in my childhood," she mused out loud. The world in which she went to work and then came home in was the world of public life. In that world, at least according to people like her father, one either "counts," "amounts to something," or does not. For one dizzy moment, she could see herslef totally renouncing this worthless, superficial world to become a Magellan of the interior. Ordinarily, Jenna went through life as if she were inside a transparent bubble she herself had created to protect her from pain and ridicule at the hands of perfect strangers. "Too bad," she said to the sparrow who had flown to the windowsill, "that I haven't yet been able to conceive a transparent bubble that can withstand the pain and ridicule at the hands of those who say they love me." Part Two in the next post..... From sienna@yabbs Wed Jul 6 21:17:10 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Matter of Perception II Date: Wed Jul 6 21:17:10 1994 Here is part two...... Sighing, Jenna rose from the windowseat, and walked up the back stairwell to her old bedroom. Sitting in a corner on the floor, she rested her chin upon her knees, unaware of the tears which were falling down her cheeks. "Here," she thought, "here is my childhood, which I am not intended to escape." Its smallness and meanness seemed destined to follow her always. She stared up at the ceiling, in that room where her childhood had happened, and in her mind she could hear the old screams, the grunts and shrieks of pain and passion. *THIS* was the bedrock, the very foundation of who Jenna Peters had become....and herchildhood seemed to reach forth and touch her with a deathly cold finger. Jenna felt these things with very little emotion. She supposed that that calm, passive state was a dull version of what most people felt all of the time. "It is probably what they call sanity.....sanity is what takes over when you get too tired for anything else," she sighed. Sitting in that corner, her memories came crashing down upon her. Her father had become ten feet tall, and every one of his breaths drained all the air from her own lungs. His screams bruised her ears. She could still hear her father's huge, punishing voice. The world belonged to people like her father, while people like her lived in its potholes and corners. Jenna could still hear him screaming at her, in front of the priest, in front of the mourners, in front of her fiance. She could hear his accusations, feel them like stabs from a sharp dagger...."You killed her! You killed her, she worried herself to death over you, Jenna! You are worthless! You are nothing! You are dead to me!" Jenna cringed as she remembered the shame. She heard his voice, and she felt astonishingly small. Her father's voice had the power to pound her into childhood, and instantly she was three feet tall and helpless. But these experiences, too, can be sealed within a leaden casket, and pushed overboard into the great psychotic sea. They are aberrations, silent and brutal exceptions to a general rule. "What makes anything great?" she asked the ceiling. In her mind, understanding is what made anything great. Depth of understanding. Unbelieveable responsiveness to detail linked to amazing clarity of vision. Sometimes it felt like the world was beginning to shred at the corners. The sense of gloom was undeniable for her. She was separate, and she became lost in her separation. She remembered her sins, her meagerness, her misery. There is something about death which intrigued her. Something which burned deep inside. And then her own face appeared before her. The first sensation was that of being on the fuzzy edge of sleep. Then the layers began. For some they are layers of color and light. For Jenna Peters, she seemed to rise endlessly through scenes of ehr own life: She saw herself playing in the leaves, making snowballs, doing homework...trying desperately to please her father...and she cried out, having seen the littleness of her own figure and the foolishness of all her joys, for they are so harmless yet so damaging. "Maybe this is where my destiny lies," she said, as she picked up the razor blade. "I am coming Momma," she whispered. "I am coming home." (c)1994 Dee From sienna@yabbs Wed Jul 6 21:23:01 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: Matter of Perception II Date: Wed Jul 6 21:23:01 1994 Just a note of apology for all of the typos in the last two posts...I tried posting this story twice before, once some jerk crashed the server when I was on line 71, and the second time my server kicked me off when I was on line 94...therefore, I was trying to type fast as to be sure it finally got posted at all.....*sigh* So please forgive the many errors....I hope the story was worth it. *hugs* Dee From robtelee@yabbs Wed Jul 6 22:25:57 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: Matter of Perception II Date: Wed Jul 6 22:25:57 1994 Some of the darkest images i have seen.....one helluva ride to the bottom....Take care of yourself. robtelee From Terrius@yabbs Thu Jul 7 00:27:56 1994 From: Terrius@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Defense of an Art Form Date: Thu Jul 7 00:27:56 1994 Defense of an Art Form ---------------------- Biological warfare is a mouthful of poison; throat tastes like sick - spine feels like shards. Organic impressionism feels no distinction. Mind and body pain-ting easels of powdered art - Death is unpleasant if you do it all at once; inject-ions, like diseases, never shift my mood - god would approve. -Tb i advise reading this item a few times. you might try horizontal, vertical, and other means. thank you for your aesthetic, and if you grok more than you think most people grok about this poem, give me a mailing. all my postings are from memory, i'm afraid the archives are on a computer which has no means of communicating with the outside world (no disk drive, even. it's a security measure, of course, and has nothing to do with the fact that the laptop was free and hence inadequately equipped.) From hawke@yabbs Thu Jul 7 03:06:42 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: trouble Date: Thu Jul 7 03:06:42 1994 well folks i must drastically curtail my yabbs time it seems some of my fellow neighbors didnt like me using th lounge phone. i will be on when i can but it will be at odd hours for me so my time will drastically get cut i will however increase my output of snail mail from zero to soemthing for those of you whos addresses i have see you all whenever. i remain your obedient servent Hawke From BlueMax@yabbs Thu Jul 7 10:46:05 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: Matter of Perception Date: Thu Jul 7 10:46:05 1994 Dee, I need some help with something, In the first part of this piece, I saw a line i did'nt understand, I know that you typed this in fast so I can understandtypos... > She became aware that she had not fainter or dies, which was how she felt, but it was just then, and only for a second, as if...... '...she had not fainter or dies,...' I don't understand that part of the sentance...is it just me...or a typo? Your Servent, Blue... From Skywise@yabbs Thu Jul 7 10:54:34 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: BlueMax@yabbs Subject: re: Matter of Perception Date: Thu Jul 7 10:54:34 1994 r and s are both close to d so it would be fainted or died i guess From Dee@yabbs Thu Jul 7 11:57:48 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: BlueMax@yabbs Subject: re: Matter of Perception Date: Thu Jul 7 11:57:48 1994 I meant to say "She had not fainted or died...... Please forgive the error...quite a few typos I must say...but I AINT retyping it! Love ya, Dee From alarm@yabbs Thu Jul 7 12:35:50 1994 From: alarm@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Thu Jul 7 12:35:50 1994 pixy, your journey into the fear of eternity reminds me of the works of kierkegaard and heidegger. generally, it follows the angst of existentialism in general. see "being and time." your line about >I could never find any comfort from the fear of eternity... was very intriguing. i think that you're right, although you are probably correct in saying that no one else can feel it like you can. but, maybe i have sat naked, suspended by my own being over the abyss of eternity. good luck with your journey alarm From Badger01@yabbs Thu Jul 7 13:09:26 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Opens Slow Vol.2 Date: Thu Jul 7 13:09:26 1994 Your hair scratches my lips I kiss your head (Out of guilt) smell of flowers and dust out of guilt I don't shudder You stand in that doorway in my way in that yellow-white daisy dress Rambling and rambling one The grass was taller than your head Eggs were so much less expensive when YOU were a girl Quoting from Leviticus or is it Revelations? Twisting your face trying to place mine Walking into the den together you open your mouth on rusty hinges I can hear teeth stripping behind your eyes The hint of smoke acrid in the air I can almost smell The spark in your eyes you short out inside as you try to say hi All I can see are the walls of your kitchen, Amber fading to mustard, You've had them for forty years Hard years since Ed passed on Bless him and keep him, Lord Have You seen the bread? I bought the bread already It's in the breadbox No Not the cupboard The breadbox Not the stove Look. Gram, look Over here, right here, in the breadbox, see? Yes Yes I did know you were Seventy-Three, Gram You've told me Ten times This morning Yes, I miss Ma too No, I don't have a job I'm Twenty-Two, Gram No, I like my hair this way Yes, the milk is in the fridge Not the sink, Gram Yes, I did that to my pants on purpose You don't have to sew them Yes, I have to go I know No, Gram, I'm Matt Ed isn't here ----------------------------------------- Well, there it is....found it hiding in a pile of stuff I was planning to throw out, on account of my career as a poet has definitely shorted out, but I thought you guys might find it interesting. Badger01 From Badger01@yabbs Thu Jul 7 13:17:59 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: I don't Date: Thu Jul 7 13:17:59 1994 I don't want to know The way you feel on a sunny day The taste of ashes at the end of us The hopes and dreams and choking poison thoughts that strangle themselves out of our souls Mirror eyes undeath the spaces between you and I You and I You and I will die Waiting a spiderweaver spinning silk from my thorax White gauze film hairthin in the spiral Round and about The web where we lived tears with every word you talk I can't build webs anymore Grass green lush and rainfed tendrils Black in the soil Down through the earth Dig through the ground Spliter the warm brown maplewood of the lid Feed on the eyes (Baby's blue) Feed on the skin (Etheral flawless) Feed on what time left Grass green lush and deathfed blades sharp in the air I don't I can't I won't let you tell me what I need to know Sparks Pistons seizing frictionred Metal melting pitting gouge dragged in the cold I can't I won't I don't add the oil Missing what we never were slivers scattered on the floor Feet rags as I run to where I never belong Streakred track me where I hide the stain I leave is mine I don't want to clean the floor I can't I won't I don't let myself go ________________________________________________________ Wow, Two in one day! Yet another of the poems I found in a pile of stuff I have decided not to throw out just yet. Maybe I'll post Autocartography next week...Maybe Not. Badger01 From MBZ@yabbs Thu Jul 7 16:42:23 1994 From: MBZ@yabbs To: MBZ@yabbs Subject: BEST FRIENDS Date: Thu Jul 7 16:42:23 1994 BEST FRIENDS Stand with me, my best friend- always at my side. Walk with me, my best friend- never in front of behind. Share with me, my best friend- your life one day at a time. Be with me, my best friend- knowing no ownership because I am yours and you are mine. Love me, my best friend- my heart has a place in it especially for you. Have me for your best friend- we will never know loniness again. Hold me as your best friend- never let me go. L O V I N G L Y W R I T T E N F O R A N D D E D I C A T E D T O SANDRA ANN CASANOVA JULY 6, 1994 AT 1:51 A.M. BY JAMES RAY NELSON. I LOVE YOU MY BEST FRIEND!!!!! From pixy@yabbs Thu Jul 7 18:01:14 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: alarm@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Thu Jul 7 18:01:14 1994 In message re: , alarm said: > your journey into the fear of eternity reminds me of the works of > kierkegaard and heidegger. generally, it follows the angst of > existentialism in general. see "being and time." your line about > >I could never find any comfort from the fear of eternity... > was very intriguing. i think that you're right, although you are probably > correct in saying that no one else can feel it like you can. but, maybe i > have sat naked, suspended by my own being over the abyss of eternity. > good luck with your journey I have read up on Kierkegaard in the last year or so. Are you suggesting that my fear of eternity resembles an existential conflict? Do you mean to say that it somehow defines me as a person and since no one else feels the same it is one that makes me unique? The fear makes my life genuine and original? Hmmm....Now there's something to ponder. thanx for the input, alarm. pixy From Terrius@yabbs Thu Jul 7 22:16:59 1994 From: Terrius@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Who cares? Date: Thu Jul 7 22:16:59 1994 M o d e l C i t i z e n ------------------------- First impulse was to ridicule the old man in the lingerie store - lusting after clothes with no people in them. Second thought made me hesitate for I can even fault myself - lusting after bodies with no people in them. -Tb for those of you interested, the poem "Defense of an Art Form" is about an "intellectual" trying to defend drug use by comparing it to art. Organic impressionism, he calls it. And shrugs off the side effects as no less moral than having an illness. a curious effect in this poem is that if you take the first letter of each line it spells "Bits of me Dying" (Note: not THIS poem as in the one in THIS message, but as in the one a few back. Always remember - convolution is the essence of intelligence - and the government is a genius) From Death@yabbs Fri Jul 8 02:23:06 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Fear... Date: Fri Jul 8 02:23:06 1994 Until recently, I wasn't really sure if I could talk about my past and what I have gone through with people I didn't really know... But now I think that I know most of you well enough to share a small part of it with you. July 28, 1993 Such a beautiful night... Walking along the stream, my arm around Lori's waist, I have never felt better. It's been four weeks since we met, but I can't imagine life without her. She always seems to know what I'm thinking and just what to say... Even now, as we walk, she says quietly, "What a beautiful night... I can't believe it's only been four weeks since we met." As we gaze at the sky, I hug her a little tighter. If this isn't love, then love doesn't exist. The night sky here is beautiful. It's so clear and bright, and every star can be seen. I noticed a falling star, flying across the horizon like it was coming right towards us. "Look at that" Lori said, pointing at it, "isn't it beautiful?" "Yes," I answered. We stood there, watching it, for several seconds. Then something in the back of my mind shrieked out a warning. "Oh my G-d, Lori RUN!!!!" I screamed, turning back towards the kibbutz. "Why?" she asked, even as she turned and ran with me. I answered, shaken, "Because that's not a falling star! It's a Ketusha rocket and there's more of them coming!" We kept running and I prayed that we could get back to the safety of the bomb shelter at the Kibbutz in time. The one time in my life that I wish G-d had answered my prayers, he didn't... As I looked back over my shoulder I saw it, practically right next to us already, and I knew we'd never make it. I dove for the ground, pulling Lori with me, trying to protect her with my body so that she wouldn't get hurt. Then it struck. I felt the blazing heat of the explosion, the broken metal and rock tearing at my skin, and the intense fear that something could happen to Lori. I lay there, listening to explosions echoing from around the kibbutz and fearing to move, lest I stand up only to be knocked down again. And then I saw Lori. I had managed to cover half of her body with my own, but it hadn't been enough. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I screamed frantically as I saw the pool of blood coming from a gash in her side. I scrambled forward, ignoring my own pain, to be at her side. I felt her neck, praying that she still lived... Finally, after what seemed like eons, I felt a faint surge. I got to my feet, cradling her limp body to my chest, and ran with all of my waning stregnth to the bomb shelter. I collapsed a few meters away, unable to move further. "HELP!" I screamed feebly as I slid into unconsciousness... I'm awake now, amazed that I survived at all from what the doctor just told me... But I don't care about myself... If Lori dies, then I have nothing to live for anyway... It's been ten hours and they're still trying to save her. When I awakened in a bright room, on a soft bed rather than the hard ground, my first thought was of Lori. "We're doing the best we can." the doctor said. But what is the best that they can do?! I have never known such fear in all my life... If she should die while I live, I could never be happy again. Why? Why must G-d always destroy what little happiness I have? Every time I get my life back on track, something happens to destroy it again... I see the doctor walking down the hall towards my room. I can't stand the fear, the fear that he'll say those cruel, forbidding words... The doctor meerly said two words... "She's alive." I have never known, and will never again know such fear or such relief. With those two words, my faith in G-d and my will to live were restored. On the brink of utter hopelessness and despair, they drew me back towards the bright shining star of life. Lori is alive! --Les From Dee@yabbs Fri Jul 8 03:02:38 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: Death@yabbs Subject: re: Fear... Date: Fri Jul 8 03:02:38 1994 Les, that was beautiful.....very moving. Thank you for sharing that with us. Dee aka Sienna From sienna@yabbs Fri Jul 8 03:09:33 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: Best Friends.... Date: Fri Jul 8 03:09:33 1994 Have you seen post #626......? this is how I feel for you as well, my love. (And I don't care who knows it either...obviously *grin*) Forever Yours, Faithfully, Dee From sienna@yabbs Fri Jul 8 03:13:08 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: MBZ@yabbs Subject: re: Fear... Date: Fri Jul 8 03:13:08 1994 James, Thanks for posting.....it really brought home the kind of feelings I have been having for hawke.....he is my best friend too....It is nice to have people around who can relate to the intense feelings love and long distance can bring to a relationship....hake is more than my boyfriend/fiance...he is my best friend, and you put it very eloquently in your last post. Once again, thanks. *hugs* Dee P.S. Ok OK so I am a *little* mushy ....to quote my dear friend BlueMax, "so sue me!" *grin* *grin* *chuckle* *chuckle* *Dee was handed a shiny new clue* hehehe From Faith@yabbs Fri Jul 8 10:11:47 1994 From: Faith@yabbs To: MBZ@yabbs Subject: Sandi's poem Date: Fri Jul 8 10:11:47 1994 I really loved the poem and I am sure Sandi will love it too. I wish you sunlight, happiness, and joy always. You are indeed a wise perosn. I think that is such a noble quality. *hugs* :) Love, Me From Dee@yabbs Fri Jul 8 13:56:52 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: MBZ@yabbs Subject: re: Sandi's poem Date: Fri Jul 8 13:56:52 1994 Ahhhh, romance.....*sigh* From sienna@yabbs Fri Jul 8 14:05:43 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: MBZ@yabbs Subject: re: Sandi's poem Date: Fri Jul 8 14:05:43 1994 Isn't it great? From sienna@yabbs Fri Jul 8 19:10:22 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Wedding Night Date: Fri Jul 8 19:10:22 1994 This is a poem I wrote when I was fourteen....I am also going to post the very first poem I ever wrote when I was twelve (if I can find it...). This poem is not very good in and of itself, but considering the age I was when I wrote it, I think it is pretty good. Maybe someday I will try to rewrite it.... W E D D I N G N I G H T ------------------------ Six years ago, Joseph stared deep into her eyes; As his fingers trembled, Holding out the diamond ring... Cassi held her breath, Scared it was only a dream; Not worth anything... As the ring slipped on, She let out a sigh. It was real. Joseph held her hand, And slowly lifted her veil, Finally freed from his lonely jail. As the preacher finally said This famous last words, Joseph took Cassi's chin in his hand. As his lips met hers In astonishing passion which She alone seemed to understand. As they walked back down The aisle from which they had come, Joseph was smiling. Cassi was afraid of her new life, Would it be true? Or just another lie in a world of lying? Then Joseph reassured her By turning his warm smile on her, So intense it lighted his eyes. She brightened her outlook, And pit her arm around his waist, Feeling ready to cry. They made love on the beach that night, So tender at first, Then made wild by desire. Joseph moaned as his head bent low, Wanting to take her again, His body intense, rapid, on fire. With one swift motion, Cassi jumped out of bed. The dream was so real, That was all that could be said. As a tear rolled down her face, She remembered Joseph, who gave. Her sweet, beloved Joseph, Now six years in his grave... From jujubee@yabbs Sat Jul 9 11:35:10 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: re: Sandi's poem Date: Sat Jul 9 11:35:10 1994 BAH HUMBUG!!!!!! From jujubee@yabbs Sat Jul 9 11:36:44 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: ??? Date: Sat Jul 9 11:36:44 1994 hey! since when did the poetry base morph into the [Love Connection]??????? heheheh..... ;*0 From batt@yabbs Sat Jul 9 12:32:13 1994 From: batt@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: Opens Slow Vol.2 Date: Sat Jul 9 12:32:13 1994 too bad you say it's shorting out...it's kind of depressing to think that the only people who will ever see your work are the select few that read this board. please keep going. batt From Skywise@yabbs Sat Jul 9 14:55:43 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: Word Search From Heck Date: Sat Jul 9 14:55:43 1994 kdjhrudhvncjdsoqiwuefhxchsdfkjhxcvjkdfgyuertoiu srtkuxdcgoiuertlkjvcserjhsxctqwevzxcjhgeruyfkwe erhzxhcbdjhgrwytasdjhqwgfrepudfhgewrqweiousdfkh werjkhsdfiuyxzcvkjhwermnsdjtqwekjhguertjhfguwer weriosdfkjhxcvkjhermnvckjhdfgtoiqwuewqudfskjher sdkfjhxzfcmnbrwetiouqwepuidsfjhvcuihwerhjgqwekj werjkhsdfiouywemnbxckjhgoiertjkhsdfiuhywervjsdf wekrjhsdfiuhermnbcvbpoqwekjhvcmnsbkjhweroisfkjw wekrjhsdfiuhxcvkmnbteykjhasdoidfglkjertopuqwejh ewkjhasdnvczxljpoiqwekjdoeeekjsdfiuhvkjhweriosd aserkjhdfsdiouwerpusdfkjbzxchgfweruysdfoiuweroi werhsdfjhgzxcuytseroiuwerpoifgkjhwerpdsfkjhgwer zxfjhgastqwepoidcgvbdseritjasdfgqerpowergsdfkwe sdfhgkwervdsfuhweroufskjweradjkzxcvnesrjfgidsfh werkjhvuygrwetjbvcjhgsdfpoirtwpuxcvkjhcxjhgweri werkjhxzcnbsdfkjhrtoidufkjhdsapuwerkhjgvfkjhewr werjhgcxnvbwreufdgsdfpowqerkjcvmnbxcvyrewiohsdk werkjhsdfiuhxvcmnbwekjhqweoiudfaskjhgfsmnbwerkj werkjhvciuhwerkjbcvjhgasjehgwteoidflkjhwerjhdas werkjhsdfuiowerknbawejhgxczlkjgeroiurekjhdskjhw wekrjhdcfuihtkjhxcvjbvsejkhgreiowerkjhdfsiuhrwe From Natalie@yabbs Sat Jul 9 16:58:18 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sat Jul 9 16:58:18 1994 *ahem* techies are artists too... (speaking from a former techie POV, of course...we're always so unappreciated...*sigh*) natalie From Natalie@yabbs Sat Jul 9 17:02:07 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Death@yabbs Subject: re: Fear... Date: Sat Jul 9 17:02:07 1994 i'm speechless *hug* natalie From Natalie@yabbs Sat Jul 9 17:03:12 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: ??? Date: Sat Jul 9 17:03:12 1994 oh be quiet juju :P natalie From Natalie@yabbs Sat Jul 9 17:03:43 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: Word Search From Heck Date: Sat Jul 9 17:03:43 1994 art or crap? i vote for crap *snigger* natalie From Natalie@yabbs Sat Jul 9 17:08:50 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: a poem Date: Sat Jul 9 17:08:50 1994 the raw nerves make me hostile the smelly people around me make me angry the airconditioning vent makes me cold i hate this bus the open air makes me feel small (too small) the corn makes me bored (can't they plant anything else?) and hum of the wheels makes me sleepy i hate nebraska small minded people make me angry (especially when i keep my mouth shut) bus terminals make me pissed off (but the people who work there are worse) hard seats make my butt hurt i hate greyhound ] title: reflections on a 36 hour bus ride from michigan to wyoming this was an impromptu kinda thing...as if you couldn't tell... natalie From sienna@yabbs Sat Jul 9 17:13:52 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Faith@yabbs Subject: You're Not Alone Date: Sat Jul 9 17:13:52 1994 YOU'RE NOT ALONE ---------------- I saw you walking by yourself, Your eyes were crying out for help. I know you feel your pain is more Than anyone's been hurt before... I know love hurts when it's over, If you wanna cry it's alright. You're like a fallen soldier, But you just can't lay down and die. You've got to remember, You're not alone in this world Always remember, You're not alone in this world. The moment that I looked at you, I recognized the hidden truth. You think there's no way out, But if you let me, I can help you now. Through all these shattered emotions, There's a lesson to learn. So come on, let me hold you closer, Love can soothe what love has burned. You've got to remember, You're not alone in this world. Always remember, You're not alone in this world. You've got to remember... Never alone, never alone, never, never alone.... Yeah.... Got to tell you now, Through all these shattered emotions, There's a lesson to learn. So come on let me hold you close because Love can soothe what love has burned... You've got to remember, You're not alone in this world. Always remember, You're not alone in this world. You're not alone in this world. Lovingly dedicated to my sis, Faith, from someone who understands the pain you are going through. Keep your chin up, sis, because you are well worth the wait.....And always know that you have a shoulder to lean on, even if it is in Cincinnati. My home is always open to you. Love, Dee From sienna@yabbs Sat Jul 9 17:16:30 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Faith@yabbs Subject: re: You're Not Alone Date: Sat Jul 9 17:16:30 1994 Oh, forgot to say that the last post was a song performed by Amy Grant. I thought the words were apropos... *hugs* Dee From Terrius@yabbs Sat Jul 9 17:40:27 1994 From: Terrius@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: talking to walls Date: Sat Jul 9 17:40:27 1994 M r . C l e a n ----------------- that grayness that is dust has always amazed me... fragments of so many things that were so many colours, and the average is always perfectly half light and perfectly half dark the mesh of cloth and hair is wetness on the rag I hold... the water bucket is diseased making the molehill of dust into a mountain of scum; revolutions half done are dirty, awful things -Tb this poem isn't so great in and of itself, but considering that I wrote it when I was two, I think it's pretty good. please write several one line 0 content replies. thank you. From dmonger@yabbs Sat Jul 9 18:13:38 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sat Jul 9 18:13:38 1994 well said nat. funny how no one appreciates one of the large groups of people that makes the damn play happen isn't it? -peter From dmonger@yabbs Sat Jul 9 18:15:16 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: a poem Date: Sat Jul 9 18:15:16 1994 geeez, don't post stuff like that. if cat see's it she'll never take a bus to pittsburgh :) -peter From Dee@yabbs Sat Jul 9 19:53:34 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: Terrius@yabbs Subject: Mr. Clean Date: Sat Jul 9 19:53:34 1994 Damn a bit sarcastic aren't we? From Dee@yabbs Sat Jul 9 19:57:33 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: Terrius@yabbs Subject: re: Mr. Clean Date: Sat Jul 9 19:57:33 1994 It is also people like you who make people like me wish they had never shared their posts...I think everyone should be able to post on here without other people making them feel like shit about it. If you have to be sarcastic and bitchy about it, at least take it into email where you won't humiliate the person publicly. Dee From Skywise@yabbs Sat Jul 9 20:10:25 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Word Search From Heck Date: Sat Jul 9 20:10:25 1994 yeah From robtelee@yabbs Sat Jul 9 20:21:54 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: a poem Date: Sat Jul 9 20:21:54 1994 I haven't been to Nebraska on a bus, and the last time I was on a bus it was a Trailways from Augusta Georgia to Macon Georgia. I can however sympathize with the images....sounds good. robtelee From Cat@yabbs Sat Jul 9 21:13:00 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sat Jul 9 21:13:00 1994 In message re: , dmonger said: > well said nat. > > funny how no one appreciates one of the large groups of people that makes the > damn play happen isn't it? > > > -peter > oh blah...people appreciate the techies...they're just swell...let's have a play where just the techies wander around building sets and changing scenes...it'd be really cool :) having been both a techie and an actor, i'd have to say that being an actor for me is oodles more fun...i like being other people, not to mention the applause and flowers...;) maybe i would have liked being a techie more if they'd let me get my hands on the damn powers tools....stike was fun...i like to break things... and this is too a poem -tammie From Cat@yabbs Sat Jul 9 21:52:15 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Sat Jul 9 21:52:15 1994 i grapsed the ruby red apple. it was so perfect: round, red and firm, and it fit so comfortably in the palm of my hand i waited a moment, anticipating the first bite. i could already taste the sweet sourness of the apple's flesh, and feel it's juices trickling down my throat unabletowaitanylongeritookagreedybite a fat horrid worm squiggled out of the fruit and fell on the floor with a plop disgusted, i crushed the worm under my heel and hurled the apple over my shoulder. From Tiamat@yabbs Sat Jul 9 22:51:20 1994 From: Tiamat@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sat Jul 9 22:51:20 1994 caught in the past of days bygone living now in a world of what was and what could have been wishing that life could have been different yet, not moving on and therefore missing what is on the hopes of what was From Tiamat@yabbs Sat Jul 9 22:54:03 1994 From: Tiamat@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sat Jul 9 22:54:03 1994 a prayer was offered that one would stay but that one left for god was not listening that day a prayer was offered when life was in danger yet life was taken for god was not listening that day through prayer a question asked of why this life happened yet no message came for god was not listening that day From jujubee@yabbs Sun Jul 10 13:56:24 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sun Jul 10 13:56:24 1994 great! my kind of poetry!!! From jujubee@yabbs Sun Jul 10 13:57:34 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Terrius@yabbs Subject: re: talking to walls Date: Sun Jul 10 13:57:34 1994 muy interesante..... From jujubee@yabbs Sun Jul 10 14:02:52 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: a poem Date: Sun Jul 10 14:02:52 1994 how bout this line: a scuzzy drunk who tries to put his sleazy hand on my leg repulses me... --Memories of a trip i took during Christmas break a coupla years ago from Houston to the "valley"...the lower portion of Texas (next to the border of Mexico) better known as the Rio Grande Valley... geez! I can really relate...especially about the corn...when i was a kid, my folks would drive us all out to Colorado in the dead of summer to visit my aunt, uncle and cousins....gosh do i remember ALL that corn!!!!! nothing but corn for miles and miles and miles and miles.......etc. but how's the fresh air up in Wyo??? remember, you still have to GET BACK to Michigan!!! yippee!!! Thank God for Greyhound!!! ;) From Terrius@yabbs Sun Jul 10 17:34:41 1994 From: Terrius@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: Apologies Date: Sun Jul 10 17:34:41 1994 Your work was good. It needed no disclaimer. I merely feel that if you go out asking for "sympathy praise" in such a manner, you will get it, and it will be meaningless. Let your work stand on its own. I am sorry to be abrasive/sarcastic. When it comes to casting oneself into an identity in order to gain attention, I am as guilty as the next individual. Do not be disturbed or afraid to share your writing, merely because of something that some inconsequential net.nobody said. -Tb S h o c k --------- Obtaining happiness is inherently difficult, because it is not an atomic substance like truth or evil. Rather, it is a heterogeneous mixture of such things as excitement, boredom, love, hate, the pleasant, and the unpleasant. Hence, quantifiable happiness can be thought of as a shower that has only two temperatures, where both are extremes. You can achieve a comfortable state through a continuous series of burning and freezing flashes, alternated in rapid succession. If it doesn't kill you, it can almost seem like balance. From Deaska@yabbs Sun Jul 10 19:02:39 1994 From: Deaska@yabbs To: Terrius@yabbs Subject: re: Apologies Date: Sun Jul 10 19:02:39 1994 *chuckle* From Dee@yabbs Sun Jul 10 19:35:41 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: Terrius@yabbs Subject: re: Apologies Date: Sun Jul 10 19:35:41 1994 I wasn't looking for "sympathy praise". So sorry if that is how it is taken. From Dee@yabbs Sun Jul 10 19:35:59 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: Deaska@yabbs Subject: re: Apologies Date: Sun Jul 10 19:35:59 1994 Thanks alot, Deaska. From Dee@yabbs Sun Jul 10 19:44:16 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: Hawke@yabbs Subject: Somewhere Out There Date: Sun Jul 10 19:44:16 1994 Somewhere Out There ------------------- Somewhere out there, beneath the pale moonlight, Someone's thinking of me, and loving me tonight. Somewhere out there, someone's saying a prayer, That we'll find one another, in the big somewhere out there. And even though I know how very far apart we are; It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star. And when the nightwind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby; It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky. Somewhere out there, if love can see us through, Then we'll be together, somewhere out there, out where dreams come true. I love you, my sweet prince. From BlueMax@yabbs Sun Jul 10 19:50:36 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: re: Somewhere Out There Date: Sun Jul 10 19:50:36 1994 M'lady... I am impressed once again... Sorta makes me think of my situation... Thanks, *Hugs*... Your Servent, The Blue Knight.... From robtelee@yabbs Sun Jul 10 21:27:04 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sun Jul 10 21:27:04 1994 hmmmmmmmmm From robtelee@yabbs Sun Jul 10 21:36:47 1994 From: robtelee@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: re: Somewhere Out There Date: Sun Jul 10 21:36:47 1994 lovely, Dee...just lovely. *smile* robtelee From dmonger@yabbs Sun Jul 10 21:48:45 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: oh what the hell Date: Sun Jul 10 21:48:45 1994 well, here's one of my first attempts ... what the hell, might as well posti it here. When i was young, they told me i was silly because there was no magic, no dragons, no angels, and that every hole did have a bottom but now i know they were wrong because the whole world is magic, and i've fought dragons, and loved angels, and found holes that have neither bottom nor end us engineers can't write , so be nice -peter From rick@yabbs Sun Jul 10 23:29:57 1994 From: rick@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: oh what the hell Date: Sun Jul 10 23:29:57 1994 not bad From sienna@yabbs Mon Jul 11 04:18:25 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: oh what the hell Date: Mon Jul 11 04:18:25 1994 Keep it up peter From Dee@yabbs Mon Jul 11 04:24:14 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: robtelee@yabbs Subject: re: Somewhere Out There Date: Mon Jul 11 04:24:14 1994 Thanks Johnny Rebel......it came from the heart (even though I didn't write it...it is a song performed by Linda Rondstat...I think I gave credit for the lyrics...i amy have to go back and check...). *hugs* Dee aka Sienna From Dee@yabbs Mon Jul 11 04:26:27 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: robtelee@yabbs Subject: re: Somewhere Out There Date: Mon Jul 11 04:26:27 1994 OOPS! I sure didn't post the credit....*blush* Now I feel like a complete horse's ass....geez louise..... Sorry, all. For those who did not know, "Somewhere Out There" was a song sung by Linda Rondstat in the movie "An American Tail". Sorry about that.... Dee aka sienna From dmonger@yabbs Mon Jul 11 09:10:53 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: i've got two legs Date: Mon Jul 11 09:10:53 1994 by terry gilliam (from monty python) i've got two legs from my feet to the ground and when i move them they walk around and when i lift them they climb the stairs and when i shave them they ain't got hairs I've got two legs... at this point the author was shot -peter :) From jujubee@yabbs Mon Jul 11 12:40:23 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: oh what the hell Date: Mon Jul 11 12:40:23 1994 pretty moving line "and loved angels" not bad for the first posting! From sienna@yabbs Mon Jul 11 22:17:58 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Till I See You Again Date: Mon Jul 11 22:17:58 1994 This is the first poem I ever wrote. Till I See You Again -------------------- Till I see you again, All of my days will be spent In succulent expectations... Till I see you again, My heart will sing little songs Of joy and exultations. Till I see you again, No fruit will enhance the joy Of living as you do... Till I see you again, Let me know that all of my hopes And expectations are true. Dee From pbj@yabbs Tue Jul 12 03:13:47 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: buzzbomb@yabbs Subject: re: well ok... Date: Tue Jul 12 03:13:47 1994 hey man that wuz intense i might have taken it wrong but i didn't think a guy would understand that kind of pain and that kind ofpleasure at the same time....i'm impressed colleen marie a.k.a mirrors a.k.a pbj a.k.a aweburne a.k.a aweburning From Faith@yabbs Tue Jul 12 11:22:39 1994 From: Faith@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: first poem Date: Tue Jul 12 11:22:39 1994 Hi everyone...ok, I am posting my first poem here and am a bit nervous. Hope you all like it. At the exact moment when the dream turned into a nightmare life stopped. And yet now it continues on. A star has suddenly become a little brighter and we wonder what the meaning of it all is. A flame extinguished makes no sound and yet this extinguished flame was as loud as a trumpet on a silent, sunny, morning. Nothing lasts forever and yet I know these memories and feelings will haunt me until I breath my last breath. And I wonder what the meaning of it all was. EDR From pbj@yabbs Tue Jul 12 13:17:59 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: death@yabbs Subject: re: Fear... Date: Tue Jul 12 13:17:59 1994 as i started reading the majority of th text flashed past my screen and i read bits and pieces of it as i zoomed by to keep my self busy..my eyes lit upon the line about the gash in her side and i literally yelled NO! all i can say is that you are a very lucky person to have had that kind of love almost lost it and still been able to hold it ...that is something i have never been able to do respectfully colleen marie From pbj@yabbs Tue Jul 12 13:19:41 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: You're Not Alone Date: Tue Jul 12 13:19:41 1994 isn't that a song??? From pbj@yabbs Tue Jul 12 13:25:22 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: i've got two legs Date: Tue Jul 12 13:25:22 1994 i love that song!!! what abvout isn't it afully nice?? anyways now back to your regularly scheduled programming..... From Badger01@yabbs Tue Jul 12 17:24:03 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: MEat Date: Tue Jul 12 17:24:03 1994 Grind it down redbrown between teeth we no longer use right Break it down take the thing apart and additive it to me feel it in the sound of tendons shearing hear it in the taste of uncooked prey Feed from death the grimgreen bushes that thrive in the stonegardens do The brown rips through the terraskin and sinks rootfangs into its meat the greywriggle pulpae mass eat their fill Belly up to the death bar Where all the colors mingle Green tastes like nothing to me Water and paper Strawling draggers across my palate If it gulped air in great bursts of life If it strodehugged the ground glad at each step I want to kill it I want to make it me When I go they'll do the same to me In tribute My living breathing moving brothers will chew their fill Even the stiffbacked watchers will eat Take this, all of you, and eat it This is my body Which will be given up to all of you As they've given it up to me At our fraternal sacrifice Copperbleeding When I go leave me out for them Leave me for them As they have left theirs for me From sienna@yabbs Tue Jul 12 17:29:39 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Hawk Date: Tue Jul 12 17:29:39 1994 This was an imitation of Elizabeth Bishop's poem "The Armadillo" The Hawk -------- Step by step, they appear; Every day the same. Laboring on this dark stage, once a year Playing this mindless game. Inside their minds of woe - Trappings of mortals lost Inside stained-glass walls, echoing their fear Of how much life had cost. Black velvet sprinkled with Hope, diamond-esque shaped; Telling their stories from heaven above; Crosses bruised, burnt and raped. Milked for pity and tears - Rancid dreams of the poor; The blood of the rich paying the ransom Of the head on the door. Suddenly sky and earth Are limitless like rock - Soaring high against the glittering heavens; A solitary hawk. I wrote this on May 9, 1994. Enjoi (batt *grin*) Dee From sienna@yabbs Tue Jul 12 17:32:57 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Desert Wind Blows Date: Tue Jul 12 17:32:57 1994 This was an imitation I did for my Contemporary American Poetry class on Exra Pound's "In A Station At The Metro"..... The Desert Wind Blows --------------------- The desert wind blows across the littered highway; Dreams trapped inside phantom lakes. Enjoi all, Dee From sienna@yabbs Tue Jul 12 17:33:47 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: The Desert Wind Blows Date: Tue Jul 12 17:33:47 1994 oops I meant Ezra Pound not Exra.......*holy typos* *grin* *chuckle* From Natalie@yabbs Tue Jul 12 18:31:57 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: a poem Date: Tue Jul 12 18:31:57 1994 but it was a 36 hour trip...shouldn't be too bad from vt to pitt... *grin* natalie From Natalie@yabbs Tue Jul 12 18:33:58 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue Jul 12 18:33:58 1994 but nothing beats haning out of the light loft window, your feet hooked on the bench, about 50 feet off the ground, yelling and screaming....and knowing that 75% of the actors don't have the gust to do that....or the fact that the techies usually know the show a zillion times better than the actoprs do (at my HS at least...) and this is a poem too. natalie From Natalie@yabbs Tue Jul 12 18:34:23 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue Jul 12 18:34:23 1994 eeeeew....your gross tammie....but i like it.... natalie From Natalie@yabbs Tue Jul 12 18:35:08 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: a poem Date: Tue Jul 12 18:35:08 1994 *sigh* i know i have to get backl to MI, juju....at least the nebraska stretch is gonna be at night.... natalie From Natalie@yabbs Tue Jul 12 18:36:13 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: oh what the hell Date: Tue Jul 12 18:36:13 1994 see, you are too an artist.... natalie From Natalie@yabbs Tue Jul 12 18:37:10 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Faith@yabbs Subject: re: first poem Date: Tue Jul 12 18:37:10 1994 *hugs* it was great, sis natalie From Natalie@yabbs Tue Jul 12 18:38:37 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: blech Date: Tue Jul 12 18:38:37 1994 gee, it's so weird, coming back here after a few days and seeing all the kazillion posts....i should take a break from the net more often.... natalie From GPF@yabbs Tue Jul 12 19:59:06 1994 From: GPF@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: blech Date: Tue Jul 12 19:59:06 1994 i hereby officialy rename this channel "the all nat channel" :s/officialy/officially whatever From dmonger@yabbs Tue Jul 12 20:05:04 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue Jul 12 20:05:04 1994 or dancing on the balcony railing during a show ... the director loved that (as did the people beneath me ) :) -peter From sienna@yabbs Tue Jul 12 21:13:11 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Faith@yabbs Subject: re: first poem Date: Tue Jul 12 21:13:11 1994 Very good hon...Keep it up. *hugs* Love you, sis, Dee From jujubee@yabbs Tue Jul 12 21:58:23 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Faith@yabbs Subject: re: first poem Date: Tue Jul 12 21:58:23 1994 i rather enjoyed that! especially the line "Nothing lasts forever and yet I know these memories .... will haunt me until I breathe my last breath." wow! H E A V Y ! ! amazing how well we write in those "certain" times of our lives.....or shall i say "uncertain"??? juju From Cat@yabbs Wed Jul 13 00:24:51 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Jul 13 00:24:51 1994 i have the gust to yell and scream...i used to do that when they gave me the microphone to do sound checks 'cuase i always got this weird power rush hearing my voice booming and echoing....amde me feel big and powerful and scary...like the great and powerful wizard of oz when really i'm just the silly sap hiding behing the curtain pretending i'm something i'm not, 'cause i really wish i was scary and this is an even better poem :) -tammie From Cat@yabbs Wed Jul 13 00:34:37 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: the artist's wife Date: Wed Jul 13 00:34:37 1994 it is the grief of my young life to have to be the artist's wife i come home oh so tired from work and my husband, the lousy jerk sits me right down in a chair, and at my face he starts to stare he dips his brush into the paint and i feel like i'm going to faint he paints my picture for awhile i was upset, and did not smile and when he was done, i saw, oh dread he'd painted a dragon above my head :grins at nat...it has meter and it rhymes :) and it's also geometrically pleasing hehehe From jujubee@yabbs Wed Jul 13 08:38:07 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: the artist's wife Date: Wed Jul 13 08:38:07 1994 cute! not to be picky or anything, but this is the gripe i always got from my English profs....did you mean to change tense 3/4 of the way into the poem??? your nitpicky pain*in*the*you*know*what jujubee From dmonger@yabbs Wed Jul 13 09:38:30 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Jul 13 09:38:30 1994 ah, but did you recite the walrus and the carpenter during them? -peter From Cat@yabbs Wed Jul 13 13:53:14 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: the artist's wife Date: Wed Jul 13 13:53:14 1994 yes i did because i was trying to be avant garde :) actually i was bored last night...or rather early this morning and felt like writing something meaningless to entertain myself :) -tammie From Cat@yabbs Wed Jul 13 13:54:10 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Jul 13 13:54:10 1994 In message re: , dmonger said: > ah, but did you recite the walrus and the carpenter during them? no guilbert and sullivan -tammie From Dee@yabbs Wed Jul 13 15:32:16 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Jul 13 15:32:16 1994 Since when did the poetry base become a commentary on the theatre technicalities and protocol? From Dee@yabbs Wed Jul 13 15:33:50 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Jul 13 15:33:50 1994 *sigh* that sounded bitchy, but I didn't mean to be so caustic. Please forgive me....abandonment does that to a girl. p.s. I liked being behind the scenes better only in drama...in chorus I lived being center stage in a solo.... Dee aka sienna From dmonger@yabbs Wed Jul 13 17:15:33 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Jul 13 17:15:33 1994 since when is it JUST a poetry base? sides, its better talking about it here than on #hack -peter From sienna@yabbs Wed Jul 13 17:22:10 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: dmonger@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Wed Jul 13 17:22:10 1994 *sigh* I said I didn't mean to sound bitchy.... I suppose we can talk about anything we wish to on here....this is America afterall. Dee From jujubee@yabbs Wed Jul 13 22:51:34 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: the artist's wife Date: Wed Jul 13 22:51:34 1994 okay...just checkin' like a good English prof would! ;) heheheh... you avante garde poetess, you! From Terrius@yabbs Wed Jul 13 23:12:33 1994 From: Terrius@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Nevermind. Date: Wed Jul 13 23:12:33 1994 Formally decided I don't care. Go about your business. -Tb My plan is to find happiness. If you want to call that a plan. It is not a plan so much as an objective... I would usually think of a plan as steps intended to *achieve* a particular objective. Yet each step could in and of itself be broken down into an infinite number of smaller objectives, which must be executed in order to achieve the primary objective. One can wonder whether or not it is truly possible to have an ideal "plan" in any terms other than micromolecular movements. Regardless, I think that the first step of my plan in order to achieve my objective is to worry less about semantics. From Cat@yabbs Thu Jul 14 00:21:25 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Thu Jul 14 00:21:25 1994 In message re: , Dee said: > Since when did the poetry base become a commentary on the theatre > technicalities and protocol? hmm i went off on a tangent and took dmonger and nat with me....but i have also noticed this base being used for cutsie ootsie love stuff too ;) and it's called poetry and creative writing...and since theatre and stuff is creative and we were writing about it..... -tammie From Cat@yabbs Thu Jul 14 00:23:58 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Terrius@yabbs Subject: re: Nevermind. Date: Thu Jul 14 00:23:58 1994 interesting...i bet you were good in geometry...i wasn't..i can't break things down into littler sequential steps. it's easier for me to view things as a whole and plans seem to fall apart. for me things that are unplanned turnout better..but interesting post all the same From Death@yabbs Thu Jul 14 01:14:10 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: Fear... Date: Thu Jul 14 01:14:10 1994 Thanx pbj... And everyone. That post was my journal entry of the worst, or possibly the best, experience of my life... I'd like to say that all of you are great friends and, for the first time in my life, I feel that I can open myself up and talk about my past with you... Thanx fot being here... *hugs* --Les From Dee@yabbs Thu Jul 14 11:10:11 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Thu Jul 14 11:10:11 1994 Sorry, Tammie. Dee From sienna@yabbs Thu Jul 14 18:51:56 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Ides of March Date: Thu Jul 14 18:51:56 1994 The Ides of March ----------------- Sometimes I fear for my sanity The world is dead to me As I am dead to the world I keep falling.... Falling... Deeper into the black abyss Funny how every time I think I've hit bottom It turns out only to be a Ledge.... And I always find a way To continue my descent down I will never hit bottom For me there is no bottom I will just keep falling... Falling... Forever into the blackness Dee (c) 1994 From Maliach@yabbs Thu Jul 14 22:39:53 1994 From: Maliach@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Price Date: Thu Jul 14 22:39:53 1994 The sunlight, golden and red, Faded as the two walked on, The dreams they have are great, To each dream there is a price. The first price was the hearts, To one another, The secaond price was the love, Each love was new, The love that each has is different. His is love of new, Hers is a love of old-- Time seperates the two, But both are together in the hearts. The price was paid, And each is endebted to the other. Not for bad reason, But for their hearts....... Any way that is one of my poems....:) Mali From Death@yabbs Fri Jul 15 01:40:54 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: The Ides of March Date: Fri Jul 15 01:40:54 1994 that was beautiful Dee... It expresses life perfectly... *hug* --Les From sienna@yabbs Fri Jul 15 04:42:24 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: re: The Price Date: Fri Jul 15 04:42:24 1994 Took my breath away, Maliach. Dee From Badger01@yabbs Fri Jul 15 12:53:09 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Goodbye... Date: Fri Jul 15 12:53:09 1994 Well, I'm not gonna be living where I live now for the rest of the year at least, and I modst likely won't have INet access, so this is goodbye...Since this is the board I like the most, I thought I'd say goodbye on it, so here I am. Natalie, Cat, Hawke, Sienna, anybody who I'm forgetting in my haste, I hope to hear from or meet you all someday. Everybody keep writing...I'll look for your work. Badger01 From Death@yabbs Sat Jul 16 01:46:14 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Schindler's List Date: Sat Jul 16 01:46:14 1994 I know that this is a little outdated, but it's something I wrote shortly after seeing the movie... "Whoever saves one life, saves the world entire" Many Jews will recognize this verse as being from the Talmud. Millions of people, Jews and Gentiles alike, will now recognize it as the hebrew verse inscribed on the gold ring given to Oscar Schindler by the eleven hundred Jews who he saved from death in the Holocaust, just before he fled after the war ended. Steven Spielberg's movie, "Schindler's List," was an amazing depiction of the suffering of the Jews during the Holocaust and one man's fight to save them. The history of Oscar Schindler and the Shchindlerjuden, as told in Spielberg's movie, is a means by which the whole world can be educated about the Holocaust. As I was coming out of the movie, I saw the line to get in stretching all the way around the theater. In that line were not only Jews, but Gentiles too. Spielberg's name lends the movie credence: people will see it. Then, they will believe it. Throughout the movie the person sitting behind me was continually gasping in horror. She couldn't believe that it had been that gruesome. While many people complain that the killings in the movie were too graphic, I believe that they were necessary. The American public has been so sensitized to violence that it would take something as graphic as seeing somebody shot in their head, with the blood spurting out into the snow, to shock us. Thus Spielberg, who until now has shown hardly any violence (dinosaurs excluded) in any of his films, has reached out to hit us with what will really sink in--"Schindler's List" will not be passed off as "just another movie." When the ashes from the fires at Krakow were raining down on the car, the woman behind me said softly, terrified, "Oh my G-d, those are ASHES..." and then faded into stunned silence. The movie, even in black and white, was just so real that, although it was unbelievable, it had to be believed. I came out of the movie feeling more emotionally drained than I have ever felt before, and thinking very much about what I had just seen. I now know that my decision not to go to Poland this summer, just to go on USY Israel Pilgrimage, without the trip to Poland was a wise one--I wouldn't have been able to handle it, at least not yet. I also thought about two very important words: NEVER AGAIN. This is a promise that every Jew makes to himself, and to the world. However, it is a promise being broken, even as I am writing this, right before our eyes. Today in Bosnia crimes just as atrocious, if not more so, as those committed during the Holocaust are taking place. We can not, as Jews or as Human Beings, stand by and watch it happen. My heart still beats inside my breast While friends depart for other worlds. Perhaps it's better - who can say? - Than watching this, to die today? No, no, my G-d, we want to live! Not watch our numbers melt away. We want to have a better world, We want to work - we must not die! These are the words of a 12 year old girl, Eva Pickov , during the Holocaust. There are people, children, in Bosnia today, who feel the same way. If we stand by and watch them die, then we are no better than the nazis themselves, for the Jews had people like Oscar Schindler, but the people of Bosnia have nobody but the rest of the world. --Les From Death@yabbs Sat Jul 16 01:48:45 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: Death@yabbs Subject: re: Schindler's List Date: Sat Jul 16 01:48:45 1994 Oops... the spacing on that got a bit messed up... Also, I noticed one typo: the author of that poem (which is a few verses longer in its entirety) was Eva Pickova. From Elbereth@yabbs Sat Jul 16 15:14:22 1994 From: Elbereth@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Dog Face Date: Sat Jul 16 15:14:22 1994 Dog Face -------- Tail wagging, proud of yellow snow. From Dee@yabbs Sat Jul 16 15:22:21 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: Death@yabbs Subject: re: Schindler's List Date: Sat Jul 16 15:22:21 1994 Les, You are absolutely right.... Dee From Natalie@yabbs Sat Jul 16 15:54:16 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: GPF@yabbs Subject: re: blech Date: Sat Jul 16 15:54:16 1994 YES! YES! YES! YES! natalie From Natalie@yabbs Sat Jul 16 15:55:12 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: the artist's wife Date: Sat Jul 16 15:55:12 1994 j'aime beaucoup... hehehehe natalie From Natalie@yabbs Sat Jul 16 15:55:41 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sat Jul 16 15:55:41 1994 it's poetry, dammit!!!!! natalie :) From Natalie@yabbs Sat Jul 16 15:56:30 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Sat Jul 16 15:56:30 1994 what cutsie ootsie love stuff? natalie From BlueMax@yabbs Sun Jul 17 08:17:02 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: re: blech Date: Sun Jul 17 08:17:02 1994 No! No! No! No! 'Drew (:P From Natalie@yabbs Sun Jul 17 14:41:59 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: BlueMax@yabbs Subject: re: re: blech Date: Sun Jul 17 14:41:59 1994 fine, be that way. natalie :) From Maliach@yabbs Sun Jul 17 14:54:41 1994 From: Maliach@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Soul's Gift's Date: Sun Jul 17 14:54:41 1994 Your eyes ask questions, Qusestions of past and persent, Like a great bird wanting to be free, Your eyes want to feast on the soul. I want to give you the eternal gift, But what will you give me? You bring me pain and hurt, Everything is good or bad, Like flowers in a field, The desisons are plucked. Every tear drop we have shed, Is all the gift need to grow, Teardrops, teardrops, lovely teardrops..... Anyways that is one of my poems..wahtcha think? Mali From sienna@yabbs Sun Jul 17 16:58:35 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: re: Soul's Gift's Date: Sun Jul 17 16:58:35 1994 Mali, All I can say is that your poem really touched my heart....It made me think of all that I have lost and gained in my own life and the prices I had to pay in the long run.....thanks for sharing this poem! Dee From bart@yabbs Sun Jul 17 18:24:28 1994 From: bart@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: PoEm Date: Sun Jul 17 18:24:28 1994 Here's my shot at poetry.. Love What is it? Lust Who needs it? Romance I want it Butterfinger MINEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE DONT TOUCH IT ITS MY BUTTERFINGER GIME GIME GMI| GIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMME DONT TOUCH I WILL KEEL YOU MON! (Beavis Mode on) settle down Bart -=-BarT-=- From Maliach@yabbs Sun Jul 17 20:40:49 1994 From: Maliach@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Hurt Date: Sun Jul 17 20:40:49 1994 This is a poem that i wrote to help me deal with my past... Hurt Why did you hurt me? All you wanted to do was see, A little girl hurt..... You took all my childhood dreams, All the time laughing at my expence, You thought I would crumble-- But you were mistaken.... Your hurt made me strong. Everytime I think of the hurt, I think of my best friend, He never left me in all the pain. No matter what He loves me, And He still does.... Some of the hurt has disappered , With His divine grace. He loves me and even you-- So the hurt is gone-- You are forgiven by me and Him......... Mali From Skywise@yabbs Sun Jul 17 20:52:33 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: bart@yabbs Subject: re: PoEm Date: Sun Jul 17 20:52:33 1994 THAT WAS THE *BEST*! your pal, Skywise From Faith@yabbs Sun Jul 17 23:01:29 1994 From: Faith@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: your poems Date: Sun Jul 17 23:01:29 1994 I can relate to a couple of things in it. I look forward to reading more of it sometime soon. Faith From Faith@yabbs Sun Jul 17 23:10:07 1994 From: Faith@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: your poems Date: Sun Jul 17 23:10:07 1994 t cut off. I just wanted to say that I loved your poems. I think I can relate to some of the stuff and I hope to read more soon. Faith :) From dmonger@yabbs Mon Jul 18 00:08:51 1994 From: dmonger@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: re: Hurt Date: Mon Jul 18 00:08:51 1994 wow -peter From sienna@yabbs Mon Jul 18 00:25:11 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: re: Hurt Date: Mon Jul 18 00:25:11 1994 Damn....did you live my life or something? Mali, I want to say that I am very glad that you have been sharing your poetry on here....It has touched me, moved me, lifted me, inspired me..... Keep it up! Dee From Death@yabbs Mon Jul 18 01:17:57 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: re: Hurt Date: Mon Jul 18 01:17:57 1994 Wow... I've felt the same way so many times... I could never express it like that though... I love your writing... It seems to reflect my own life quite a bit... Keep up the good work! --Les From BlueMax@yabbs Mon Jul 18 09:11:50 1994 From: BlueMax@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: re: re: blech Date: Mon Jul 18 09:11:50 1994 Maybe! Maybe! Maybe! Maybe! Maybe! 'Drew :P From Skywise@yabbs Mon Jul 18 09:50:16 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: farmer@yabbs Subject: my sensitive side Date: Mon Jul 18 09:50:16 1994 Late at night, on the farm when there's no more work to do and the chilling of the evening starts to get the best of you, you can hear them in the meadow, you can hear them in the corn with their tuba and their clarinet, accordian, and horn. You know that they are out there and will play until the dawn. Even thought you think they're pretty good you wish that they were gone off to where it is pigs go at this late time of night. Oh why can't they be sleeping? It really isn't right for piggies such as them to be honking and tubaing and drumming and clarineting and dancing and frolicing it's REALLY upsetting. In the daylight, they're nice as they grunt and they wiggle but at night...if you have good ears...and listen very close...and get real..real quiet you can hear the piggies giggle AS THEY SING AND THEY DANCE AND THEY PLAY AND THEY SHOUT! I DON'T KNOW WHY I STAY HERE! I'm moving out. From Natalie@yabbs Mon Jul 18 12:15:39 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: BlueMax@yabbs Subject: re: re: re: blech Date: Mon Jul 18 12:15:39 1994 possibly! possibly! possibly! possibly! possibly! natalie :) From Badger01@yabbs Mon Jul 18 14:52:56 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: I GET TO STAY HERE! Date: Mon Jul 18 14:52:56 1994 I didn't have to move out after all (THEY'RE FLOATING ME THE RENT! It's soo cool.) Here's a couple of Poems I wrote today: STONEWATERBOY The boy rimed slowcarvened from whiteblue glacial ice never thaws never melts while it flows like a tortisea Missisippi of Kelvinized water pushed along oldest brown on earth rocks from time mammals had scales under thier fur so slo the cracks form pushed by the weightwaves oldest crest on the surface colder than space glacial mass contorts mountains in his frame moving slowest never stops cannot fall glacier presses on and on like an unwanting implanted childparent boy is cut from the mass without fail it presses on Nothing will deter him can halt the advance Made from neverliquidatedry Hydroxygen The bones of Ymir Quailing Squeezing on until kisses ocean brother Nothing an absenteed-off broodmare can inflict with tongue or hands can prevent the flowing of the ice up north in his veins From Natalie@yabbs Mon Jul 18 16:22:40 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: I GET TO STAY HERE! Date: Mon Jul 18 16:22:40 1994 "the bones of ymir" YES!!!!!!! a reference to the norse myth of creation :) maybe i'll post my poem of allusions to norse mythology...not very good, but i did make an actual kenning in it :) natlaie natalie even i hate it when i misspell my name *sigh* From Badger01@yabbs Mon Jul 18 19:06:47 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: Norse Myth Date: Mon Jul 18 19:06:47 1994 Not to brag, but here at RWU I'm the local expert on all things Norse, from actual history to Myth...noit that that is hard at this academic cesspool...but yeah, I like to allude to the Northman myths Remind me to post "Yggdrasil" sometime Badger01 From trouble!@yabbs Mon Jul 18 19:33:43 1994 From: trouble!@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: re: Soul's Gift's Date: Mon Jul 18 19:33:43 1994 mali ..... i really like your poem ...i know, i know ...i'm only reading it now, but i just saw it ..... it fits my mood to a "T", and its really good l8rs *wave* Trouble!/Billee/Sorceress/MoonShadow/TedeBere From Dee@yabbs Mon Jul 18 23:27:39 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: I GET TO STAY HERE! Date: Mon Jul 18 23:27:39 1994 *hug* It was rather...um...poetic of you, Nat, mispelling your own name...I suppose we could all sit around here and debate the symbolism in that...hehehe (just kidding, my sarcastic side is taking over ahhhhh!) Anyway, just wanted to comment on that...for no real good reason. hehehe Love ya, Dee From HC@yabbs Tue Jul 19 01:55:08 1994 From: HC@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Rememberance Date: Tue Jul 19 01:55:08 1994 s screwing up the first part of the posts] Title: Rememberance Author: HCoyote I looked into the glinting blade. The past hurdling through my eyes I saw the pain she caused Why did she hurt me? I gazed into the shimmering edge, Longing to find the goodtimes That I once knew. Alas, I found none. My life... Full of pain... Is not worth living. I gazed into the murky sharpness of the knife. Crimson red flowing down onto my bloody hand I didn't feel the pain. I couldn't feel the pain. I took my last glimpse... A glimpse of the stars above. I close my eyes And fall asleep... Forever. ---------- (c)1994 HCoyote From sienna@yabbs Tue Jul 19 02:57:33 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: HC@yabbs Subject: re: Rememberance Date: Tue Jul 19 02:57:33 1994 Wow.... HC, that was...well, it......damn. Let's just say that I can relate... *hug* Dee From pbj@yabbs Tue Jul 19 03:11:16 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: hc@yabbs Subject: re: Rememberance Date: Tue Jul 19 03:11:16 1994 wow...they may be few but wow when they come.... nite bu-udy sweet dreams colleen marie From Scar-eye@yabbs Tue Jul 19 09:37:21 1994 From: Scar-eye@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: As I threatened... Date: Tue Jul 19 09:37:21 1994 As I threatened yesterday...My Norse Myth inspired Poem, YGGDRASIL. YGGDRASIL (Written 9/29/92---And YES, I know it sucks) In my hands Dull spikes glintpierced August clouds before rain fall My flesholds on and screams holding me on the tree My facecradle open Bloodpus yelloweblack hole Blackened with white that shows Hanging on Nine days Ribshattered aside Gungir slid between the slats Witheringrip ashhaft Inchscribed stained runesigils my bloodlove worn deep in wood by my hands Wind roars in my caveskull sandy pounding waves lungs strain to rend brittlebreastbone mottlepatchy brownmange dogs leap cavortsnap at my heels head heavy pullsnaps twigneck still against shoulder around my parchmentthin skin frayrotting hemp hangman's knot beggar's hemp stitched with rottenskin Whitepale sun ripping skin away as I hang no water for me here hang on the tree Hugin freke gere shriek for me circleing head scream while I can't beaks stickybrown gnawing at my seared saggings blueblack birdling tear at the air with dead wings cut and cutting through my prayers My chest expandss expands pounds drumhead heart tight and past the limit of flesh red musclemass pushed runny breath a hiss harsh dry up here Wait for the answer dying for me As I said yesterday...Not my best work. Scar-eye Rossi (Funny how life imitates art) From Maliach@yabbs Tue Jul 19 11:34:57 1994 From: Maliach@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Unicorn Date: Tue Jul 19 11:34:57 1994 There is one thing that all need to know about me..I love mythical creatures, such as unicorns and dragons....:) Unicorn The sound of thousands of hooves, sounding like thunder, Ligth and airy in their cause, White an puredare their hearts, Color of every color in thier tails, Might steeds of the gods, Unicorns as they are called. The grat gigt fom the Great Spirit his peolpe, Like a dream, not yet awaken, The unicorn runs in the starry sky. Showing the way to the pure of heart, The unicorn is part of the world between dream and wake, The truth they prevail is astonishing to imagine. The unicorn also showes faith a hope.......... Mali From sienna@yabbs Tue Jul 19 13:06:35 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Scar-eye@yabbs Subject: re: As I threatened... Date: Tue Jul 19 13:06:35 1994 Wow, Matt..... The images are....well, striking..... I don't like the subject matter but I can appreciate the pictures you painted in MY mind! *hug* Keep it up! Dee P.S. By the way: I am glad you aren't leaving us after all! :) From sienna@yabbs Tue Jul 19 13:07:06 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: re: The Unicorn Date: Tue Jul 19 13:07:06 1994 Mali, once again.... THANKS! Dee *hug* From Mae@yabbs Tue Jul 19 17:18:54 1994 From: Mae@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Tue Jul 19 17:18:54 1994 Music is a window into the soul allowing love and happiness to flow freely for one being to another. From Death@yabbs Wed Jul 20 02:20:41 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: HC@yabbs Subject: re: Rememberance Date: Wed Jul 20 02:20:41 1994 Well said! I hope to see more of your writing... --Les From Death@yabbs Wed Jul 20 02:26:28 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: scar@yabbs Subject: re: As I threatened... Date: Wed Jul 20 02:26:28 1994 hmm... what happened to your user ID? it keeps saying you don't exist... Anyways, I loved the imagery in that poem, and it was definitely in the Norse veign... It could have been better, but it's good enough for having been written at all... --Les From Death@yabbs Wed Jul 20 02:28:35 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: re: The Unicorn Date: Wed Jul 20 02:28:35 1994 Beautiful!!! I, too, like mythical creatures, and have spent quite a bit of time studying them... that was a beautiful and stirring depiction of the unicorn... thanx again for sharing with us --Les From jujubee@yabbs Wed Jul 20 08:14:02 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Elbereth@yabbs Subject: re: Dog Face Date: Wed Jul 20 08:14:02 1994 in regards to your heartwarming poem, my kitty was soooooo happy to see me after my 4 day vacation, he surprised me w/promptly bringing home a dead rat after i released him from his confinement...he's such a good hunter! *8^] gotta love those pets!!! From jujubee@yabbs Wed Jul 20 08:15:08 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: kittycat Date: Wed Jul 20 08:15:08 1994 kitty cat feet goes pit-a-pat brings me home a big fat rat From jujubee@yabbs Wed Jul 20 08:19:26 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: damn! Date: Wed Jul 20 08:19:26 1994 oops...realize i made a major grammatical error...DUH! here goes again... kitty cat feet go pit-a-pat brings me home a big fat rat From jujubee@yabbs Wed Jul 20 08:19:47 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: mae@yabbs Subject: music Date: Wed Jul 20 08:19:47 1994 yep...well said, Mae.... From Dee@yabbs Wed Jul 20 09:45:56 1994 From: Dee@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: your poem Date: Wed Jul 20 09:45:56 1994 Very uplifting ode to your cat, juju...hehehe I LIKED it! :) Dee aka sienna From sienna@yabbs Wed Jul 20 12:01:00 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Hawke@yabbs Subject: Right Here Waiting Date: Wed Jul 20 12:01:00 1994 Right Here Waiting ------------------ Oceans apart, day after day.... And I slowly go insane. I hear your voice on the line, But it doesn't stop the pain. If I see you next to never, Then how can say forever? Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you. Whatever it takes Or how my heart breaks, I will be right here waiting for you. I took for granted all the times, That I thought would last somehow. I hear the laughter, I taste the tears, But I can't get near you now. Oh, can't you see it baby? You've got me going crazy... Wherever you go, Whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you. Whatever it takes, or how my heart breaks, I will be right here waiting for you. I wonder how we can survive this romace... But in the end if I'm with you, I'll take the chance... Wherever you go Whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you. Whatever it takes, Or how my heart breaks, I will be right here waiting for you... Waiting for you...... -Richard Marx "Right Here Waiting" Dee From jujubee@yabbs Wed Jul 20 12:03:15 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Dee@yabbs Subject: re: your poem Date: Wed Jul 20 12:03:15 1994 well, you can imagine my chagrin at seeing a disgusting rat laying on the porch when i went outside this morning...YUK!!! :( :( From Skywise@yabbs Wed Jul 20 13:40:02 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: kittycat Date: Wed Jul 20 13:40:02 1994 that was cool hehehehe :) your pal, Skywise (this is not a poem) From Skywise@yabbs Wed Jul 20 13:40:56 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: damn! Date: Wed Jul 20 13:40:56 1994 the revision was even cooler hehehehe your pal, Skywise (this is a poem) From Skywise@yabbs Wed Jul 20 13:42:45 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: your poem Date: Wed Jul 20 13:42:45 1994 more! more! more description of the disgusting rat laying on the porch! your pal, Skywise From Badger01@yabbs Wed Jul 20 16:15:04 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Me and YABBS have decided Date: Wed Jul 20 16:15:04 1994 Me and the BBS have decided I should stay Badger01 (OKAY, IT decded for us) Badger01 From Skywise@yabbs Wed Jul 20 16:38:34 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: blah@yabbs Subject: blah Date: Wed Jul 20 16:38:34 1994 [Y]ou and your [E]lectric [D]reams They all zombie around wearing [P]erfumed [M]inds and their black sunglasses and we want to k i l l them but they are us. From Biohazrd@yabbs Thu Jul 21 12:04:40 1994 From: Biohazrd@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Weirded Out Date: Thu Jul 21 12:04:40 1994 They sit and stare at me...I don't fit, I never will, they have the sheep-glaze over their eyes, hooded like a snakes...they all wear white or pastels...they see me in my black and know that I am inside of me, rotten and rotting away. "I don't understand how people can hate other people for little things like their religon, or the color of their skin." Says one of them, I'm wearing my shades and drawing so I don't see her. "It's easy." I say. "You have something to share with the class?" Askes the teacher, who should have died in 1970 because he's stuck with Ram Dass in his head doing the thinking for him, never has an original thought. "Yeah, I guess I do. It's easy to hate for skin color...it's easy to hate for religon. Anything, taste in clothes or music, weight, hair color, speech patern, anything can make us hate. We hate freely and beautifully. We hate better then anything, because we are humans. And all humans are inherently evil." From Badger01@yabbs Thu Jul 21 12:28:02 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Biohazrd@yabbs Subject: re: Weirded Out Date: Thu Jul 21 12:28:02 1994 There's something you don't see everyday. Badger01 From jujubee@yabbs Thu Jul 21 14:22:44 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Biohazrd@yabbs Subject: re: Weirded Out Date: Thu Jul 21 14:22:44 1994 hmmmmm....to think that i always thought ppl hated because they had nothing better to do w/their otherwise dreary, monotonous lives..... From sienna@yabbs Thu Jul 21 16:28:52 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: Weirded Out Date: Thu Jul 21 16:28:52 1994 I always thought people hated out of ignorance..... Dee From sienna@yabbs Thu Jul 21 16:31:03 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: A Thousand Hours Date: Thu Jul 21 16:31:03 1994 A Thousand Hours ---------------- For how much longer can I howl into this wind? For how much longer Can I cry like this? A thousand wasted hours a day Just to feel my heart for a second A thousand hours just thrown away Just to feel my heart for a second For how much longer can I howl into this wind? From jujubee@yabbs Thu Jul 21 17:17:45 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: Weirded Out Date: Thu Jul 21 17:17:45 1994 yeah, that was the other reason that slipped my mind...also out of envy... From jujubee@yabbs Thu Jul 21 17:19:29 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: A Thousand Hours Date: Thu Jul 21 17:19:29 1994 AAAAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!! That's one of my favorite tunes!!! Might I tell the yabbs viewers/audience that that is none other than the infamous Robert Smith crooning his heart out???? jujubee smiles contentedly and slips into a Cure trance............ From sienna@yabbs Thu Jul 21 17:23:10 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Fight Date: Thu Jul 21 17:23:10 1994 Sometimes there's nothing to feel (i'm in the room without a view) Sometimes there's nothing to hold (in the room without a light) Sometimes there's no time to run away (i'm here for one more treacherous night) Sometimes you just feel so old (my soul is cut and broken, cold) The times it hurts when you cry (tonight i'm feeling like an animal) The times it hurts just to breathe (tonight i'm howling inside) And then it seems like there's no one left (i never wanted it to end like this) And all you want is to sleep (six feet deep beneath the street) Fight (push it away) Fight (push it until it breaks) Fight (don't cry at the pain) Fight (or watch yourself burn again) Fight (just fill up the sky) Fight So when the hurting starts (tonight i'm screaming like an animal) And when the nightmares begin (tonight i'm losing control) Remember you can fill up the sky (all i want is to be with you again) You don't have to give in (tonight, oh i'm getting so low) Fight (push it away) Fight (push it until it breaks) Fight (don't cry at the pain) Fight (or watch yourself burne again) (or watch yourself burn again) (or watch yourself burned again) Fight! Enjoi, Dee From sienna@yabbs Thu Jul 21 17:28:40 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: A Thousand Hours Date: Thu Jul 21 17:28:40 1994 I am so bad....I always forget to do that.... Isn't Robert Smith the greatest? So tortured.... I also combined several of the lyrics from his album Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss me for the last post called Fight.....kinda tried to make a potporri of Robert Smith....it also happens to describe my mood and thoughts quite perfectly! The Cure is AWESOME! :) Dee P.S. I PROMISE to try and give credit where applicable...not trying to be a plagerist or anything....*shucks* I am always afraid the damn server will kick me off before I can save it that I don't pay any attention to that part...*humble apologies* Dee From jujubee@yabbs Thu Jul 21 18:00:32 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: A Thousand Hours Date: Thu Jul 21 18:00:32 1994 you don't EVER have to apologize to me...i'm pretty easygoing... i just wanted to disclose the fact to the world that there ARE ppl out there besides me that listen to (i really like your description) "tortured poets".... yeah, the potpourri was pretty interesting...also, i was gonna say that the Cure helps me out of my most severe depressions every time! most ppl might think that strange, but they have rescued me from shitty relationships gone sour, etc. hang in there and groove w/the finest! From sienna@yabbs Thu Jul 21 20:32:24 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: A Thousand Hours Date: Thu Jul 21 20:32:24 1994 I agree.....their lyrics are haunting but they have a sort of "gritty" side to them too.....I think that the Cure has helped me in my times of depression too....do you know what song got me hooked to them (and which still remains my favorite...rhetorical question of course)? "Just Like Heaven" which actually got into mainstream Top 40 stations....kinda shocking...but I love the imagery in that song... "Daylight licked me into shape, I must have been asleep for days, And moving lips to breathe her name, I opened up my eyes. And found myself alone, alone, Alone above a raging sea, That stole the only girl I loved And drowned her deep inside of me." Incredible.....love lost. love mourned but also love cherished and love remembered.....all poetically, tragically, beautifully woven together to create images soft and blurred yet sharp and distinct (Quite the dialectical score....hehehe) Enough ramblings.... Enjoi, Dee From jujubee@yabbs Thu Jul 21 22:08:14 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: A Thousand Hours Date: Thu Jul 21 22:08:14 1994 tolja he was a master poet . . . :) From HC@yabbs Thu Jul 21 23:37:52 1994 From: HC@yabbs To: Death@yabbs Subject: re: Rememberance Date: Thu Jul 21 23:37:52 1994 I'm pissed, but I haven't been REALLY pissed lately....you may or may not see somthing from me again for quite a wahile, so don't hold your breath... From HC@yabbs Thu Jul 21 23:43:18 1994 From: HC@yabbs To: HC@yabbs Subject: re: Rememberance Date: Thu Jul 21 23:43:18 1994 ******** *************** In message re: Rememberance, HC said: > I'm pissed, but I haven't been REALLY pissed > lately....you may or may not see somthing from me again for quite a > wahile, so don't hold your breath... > Ack...damn this editor....It should have been : Well....I only write when I'm pissed, but I haven't been REALLY pissed lately....you may or may not see somthing from me again for quite a wahile, so don't hold your breath... [If this gets fucked over again, I'm not gonna post it again] From Death@yabbs Fri Jul 22 03:28:19 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: Biohazrd@yabbs Subject: re: Weirded Out Date: Fri Jul 22 03:28:19 1994 It's easy to hate... Loving somebody is a lot harder. Many people never take the time to get to know someone (or a group of someones) before they decide to hate them. It is this ignorance that causes hate. For instance, my co-worker has remarked several times to me about how he hates Jews, although he has yet to come up with a reason why. When I tinformed him that *I* was Jewish he almost flipped... If you can't even tell that a person is a member of group that you supposedly hate, theen you have no business hating them at all... just a thought that struck me when I read that post... --Les From Death@yabbs Fri Jul 22 03:30:00 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: Fight Date: Fri Jul 22 03:30:00 1994 Beautiful! *hug* --Les From topi@yabbs Fri Jul 22 11:17:37 1994 From: topi@yabbs To: Biohazrd@yabbs Subject: re: Weirded Out Date: Fri Jul 22 11:17:37 1994 that was cool. I really like that. :) -Cath. From pbj@yabbs Fri Jul 22 19:19:44 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: Weirded Out Date: Fri Jul 22 19:19:44 1994 i thought people hated out of jealousy......or a feeling of inaducqacy...kind like my spelling From jujubee@yabbs Fri Jul 22 22:24:27 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: Weirded Out Date: Fri Jul 22 22:24:27 1994 yeah, i think so, too...a feeling of inadequacy or insecurity...yep...both of those will work, i'd say.... in the famous words of Jim Morrison.... "people are strange... " From Maliach@yabbs Sat Jul 23 20:54:41 1994 From: Maliach@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Untitled Date: Sat Jul 23 20:54:41 1994 This is a poem that I wrote this week...tell me what you think...:) Teardops falling down her face, She can see the fear in his eyes, He doesn't want to hurt her, But hurt her, he must, To prserve his own heart. He wants everything that she can give, He wants to give nothing in return, She can feel herself slipping away, She can not find the right path. He realizes the ultimate truth, She gives the last that she can, He decides she is worth all the pain, She decides he is worth all the sorrow, They come together in the perfect union, To be with one and for one forever. Anyways that is my poem...:) Mali From Maliach@yabbs Sat Jul 23 23:02:00 1994 From: Maliach@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Untitled Date: Sat Jul 23 23:02:00 1994 Why do you hide in the shadows? There is nothing to fear-- Or so they they say. Others do not understand the problem, The bertayl of one, The forgiveness of the other. Past is forgiven, but hard to forget. I want to be whole again, But with the pain, how can I? All you did was destroy, You think that now I am a lost child, You are wrong! The hatered that I have for you, Has made me strive, You thought I was a sill child-- And I would not know right from wrong, You took my most precious gift, And you thought it would be alright, Now I feel like a half person, But now my soul is finding its soulmate, Even though you destroyed part of it. Every night I cry for taht lost child, The one that you created, You laughted and forced, But why? What was running through your mind? As you took my chilhood, Dreams torment me, Because of of the images of hurt, I hate you! All you do is laugh at me in my dreams; But you did not count on the white knight. As the deams started , He would come in and save this child. So be gone with you-- You are not here in the present. So disappear into the shadows, You firey beast of torment-- Go back to your master-- And leave this child with happiness in her heart! Anyways that is my poem....what do you think it means? From Natalie@yabbs Sun Jul 24 01:21:32 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: re: Untitled Date: Sun Jul 24 01:21:32 1994 um...just one thing i noticed about this...you tend to start your lines with a lot of the same words...i don't know if you're trying to get a rhythmic effect with that or if that's jsthow it's happening...i saw it as more repetitious then rhythmic...but that's just my $0.02 natalie From pbj@yabbs Sun Jul 24 01:56:16 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: Weirded Out Date: Sun Jul 24 01:56:16 1994 that is sooo weird that you mention "people are strange" i just heard it twice at the pool hall tonight....Lost Boys???? sorry that was off the subject...oh well.... Colleen Marie...Mirrors...Aweburning...pbj From jujubee@yabbs Sun Jul 24 01:56:17 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: re: Untitled Date: Sun Jul 24 01:56:17 1994 well i dunno...it sounds kinda "Sinead-ish" to me.... kinda reminds me of a song of hers...lemme think of the name of it.... well, some of the lyrics are (since i'm so bad w/titles) "why must you always be around...why can't you just leave me be.... you've done nothing so far but destroy my life, you cause as much sorrow dead as you did when you were alive..." and i think that song had to do w/abortion...who knows...i could be waaaaay off base here.... From jujubee@yabbs Sun Jul 24 01:57:47 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: re: Untitled Date: Sun Jul 24 01:57:47 1994 who knows? after reading it again, my guess is that it's about either a jilted lover or a girl that had shit for parents...dunno.... those are my interpretations..however weak they may be.... From Eli@yabbs Sun Jul 24 10:36:56 1994 From: Eli@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Hatred. Date: Sun Jul 24 10:36:56 1994 A girl sat Her hair disheveled Tears wanted to roll down her face but they wouldn't come. Inside, feelings brooded No reason. At least not that she could see. It hurt. Tears rolled. but Nothing was achieved. She forms a question but it is never asked It continues to brood inside of her. Its like hate that comes from nowhere She wants to scream She wants to tear things up She wants to get this feeling out of her body. She feels so lost So trapped within her own body. From sienna@yabbs Sun Jul 24 16:26:39 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Eli@yabbs Subject: re: Hatred. Date: Sun Jul 24 16:26:39 1994 I just wanted to say that you could have been writing about me.... I was really touched by the imagery. I guess the line that really got to me the most was "She feels so lost...so trapped within her own body." That and the line that said "Tears wanted to roll down her face but they wouldn't come." Thanks for posting that. Dee From sienna@yabbs Sun Jul 24 16:48:17 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Somebody Date: Sun Jul 24 16:48:17 1994 I have been on a serios Cure and Depesche Mode kick lately, and as I was listening to the new tape I bought called "Catching Up With Depesche Mode", I heard a song of theirs which I hadn't heard in quite a few years called "Somebody" which I decided to post here because I feel the same and it is a beautiful song. SOMEBODY -------- I want somebody to share Share the rest of my life Share my innermost thoughts Know my intimate details Someone who'll stand by my side And give me support And in return s(he'll) get my support She will to listen to me When I want to speak About the worlkd we live in And life in general Though my views may be wrong They may even be perverted S(he'll) hear me out And won't easily be converted To my way of thinking In fact, s(he'll) often disagree And at the end of it all S(he) will understand me I want somebody who cares For me passionately With every thought and with every breath Someone who'll help me see things In a different light All the things I detest I will almost like I don't want to be tied To anyone's strings I'm carefully trying to stay clear of those things But when I'm asleep I want somebody Who will put their arms around me And kiss me tenderly Little things like this Make me sick In a case like this I'll get away with it Enjoi, Dee From sienna@yabbs Sun Jul 24 20:36:58 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Sun Jul 24 20:36:58 1994 Screaming inside a mind that holds many rooms Counting one, two, three, four..... Why didn't you just take my heart and shred it Shred it from inside to outside, circumfrance to core? Oh! I see, you already did shred it...I thought it was confetti Counting five, six, seven, eight.... Why didn't you just leave me to cry Cry from truth being told cold straight? Oh! I see, you did leave me to cry...I thought it was rain Counting nine, ten, eleven, twelve.... Why didn't you just turn your back Turn your back on an ocean into which I delve? Oh! I see, you did turn your back...I thought it was love. Counting...too tired to count anymore...the numbers run into one another. From pbj@yabbs Mon Jul 25 03:16:00 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: improv Date: Mon Jul 25 03:16:00 1994 full moon hell yeah my heart is empty fallling down hope stripped from my veins she cries to a solitary picture hung crooked on the wall she cries and noone has taken her seriously at all full moon and my stone sinks in my chest i fell down and noone can save me she sits and wonders why she must wait waiting only makes her heart stiffen and quake half moon coming round the sphere i stood up and wiped my tears enjoi.... Aweburning mirrors Colleen Marie pbj oh yeah..(c) 1994 Aweburning From Death@yabbs Mon Jul 25 03:54:11 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: improv Date: Mon Jul 25 03:54:11 1994 Beautifully put... *hug* --Les From Badger01@yabbs Mon Jul 25 10:47:07 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Killing Time. Date: Mon Jul 25 10:47:07 1994 Waiting In line here in the Whiteplace behind the smelliest person alive Bugs circle her tangled hair yellowred Should have renewed it by mail. Badger01 From sienna@yabbs Mon Jul 25 11:06:16 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: Killing Time. Date: Mon Jul 25 11:06:16 1994 Wow, that was "poetic"....very true too! hehehe *hugs* Dee From Lestat!@yabbs Mon Jul 25 16:12:34 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Fair Black blood Date: Mon Jul 25 16:12:34 1994 The message the moon the cocoon my blood is on your shoulders remember your shoulders give me more more more love sex green hellish blood im sick sick the end around your shoulders die soon, die lack of oxygen I remember her lips blood red lips open shoulders screaming hyenas bark spurting blood black and wet the tile the mask the cocoon the roller coaster ride hashish the pandoras box my style my lies mention it fair black blood on a wet street fangs glisten whitely am I depressed? style fair tired , ,my dear when in the night I meet you I will kiss your bloody lips make you tenderly caress I caress your shoulders From Hash@yabbs Mon Jul 25 18:10:43 1994 From: Hash@yabbs To: Lestat!@yabbs Subject: untitled Date: Mon Jul 25 18:10:43 1994 well, love, i am having difficulties with the message base...it tells me that your most recent message is a private one i cannot read, yet i can access it with the n command. *vents frustration* which i did. i have no poetry for you (as you may recall, i write but never share) but i do take delight in yours...that which i am able to access, that is. i hope to see you here tomorow, my friend. hash, of course. ps that sounds egotistical, doesnt it? it isnt meant to be. just so you know. From pixy@yabbs Mon Jul 25 18:29:28 1994 From: pixy@yabbs To: pixy@yabbs Subject: re: untitled Date: Mon Jul 25 18:29:28 1994 DAMNED ARE THE DAYS OF OUR LIVES!!! Perhaps, but What if the show could imitate art? Much like the lives of the temparate and the subtle souls of limbo Sure. However Suppose all are happy in comfort and the pangs of misunderstanding. Are the misunderstandings of all those beatnik brats? And subtle is the perfect way. Could be, yet I find a more than subtle joy in broooding, one that stings like a papercut, and as a beatnik i'm a masochist and indeed do love to watch each mortal coil unravel. From Skywise@yabbs Mon Jul 25 23:08:00 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: blah@yabbs Subject: blah Date: Mon Jul 25 23:08:00 1994 blah... blah... blah... etc etc etc From sienna@yabbs Tue Jul 26 00:28:23 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: The Game Date: Tue Jul 26 00:28:23 1994 THE GAME -------- It's too late for prevention to start with the cure, You used to be so innocent, you used to be so pure. But funny how time will change your ability to endure, And subdued insinuations drown your dream to be secure. Then pain and fear surround you, and with their taunts they bruise, They lead you by the hand, and then unmercifully accuse. They dazzle you with speeches of amazing eloquence, They dance all around you, and steal your innocence. They trick you every time, and yet speak to you of love, They spit upon your face, yet hold their hands to heaven above. They say to be like them you must learn to walk the earth, You must feel every pain, and you must die a fiery birth. You don't deserve to live unless you learn to play the game, You, too, must hurt with words and dance around the empty flame. And once that starts to happen, you become a mindless slave, With one hand in the fire, and one foot in the grave. Dance freely while you can and then learn to bury hope, They know you want to hang yourself, they offer you the rope. You looked to them for love and found hatred in disguise, They laugh at your pleas for mercy, they taunt you with more lies. And as you near the end of it all and begin to clear the stage, You see the way you lived your life inside a tiny cage. And while your dying heart gives in to total mortal fear, Your only course of action suddenlt becomes so clear. "THERE ISN'T ANY ROOM FOR THE UNFORGIVEN HERE." This peom pretty much says how I feel about hypocrisy...I used the church for two reasons, one very personal, and the other being that it makes an easy target. This poem is dedicated to Donna and Johnny Goldsberry. Only they know the influence they have had upon my life. Enjoi, Dee From Death@yabbs Tue Jul 26 01:08:06 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: The Game Date: Tue Jul 26 01:08:06 1994 Whoa... that was powerful... Expresses my opinion of current "organized" religions too... keep up the good work! *hug* --Les From pbj@yabbs Tue Jul 26 03:49:19 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: new shit Date: Tue Jul 26 03:49:19 1994 well i am in the best mood for writing so here goes.... i feel you slipping away a subtle word an unglanced glance you never call anymore you just leave me in the dust swirling round my feet with nothing left to hold stripped of everything i ever had you drive away carrying it all in your backpocket the only thing i wanted back you never will return there is emptiness here it happens so slightly the messy way we fall out of love... a single word not taken at face value read into and expanded this place can never fill standing naked without anything with nothing you came and swept me off my feet and decided to stay awhile to take more than just my feet when you finally left (c) 1994 Aweburning oh well that kinda sucked pbj mirrors Aweburning Colleen Marie From jujubee@yabbs Tue Jul 26 09:04:04 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: The Game Date: Tue Jul 26 09:04:04 1994 wow! the imagery makes it sound almost cult-like... i understand the hypocrisy (my opinion now, ppl) of the church...or organized religion, if you will...that is why i practice all of my religious rituals in the privacy of my own mind... one note on your 1st line...there is a song by Sinead called "You Cause as Much Sorrow" which i think i may have alluded to in a previous post...anyhow the words in it are "it's too late for prevention but i don't think it's too late for the cure" when i started to read the poem, it reminded me of that song... if you've never listened to Sinead, you might wanna give it a try..i find her music/lyrics to be powerful... From Badger01@yabbs Tue Jul 26 10:22:14 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: ROSSI KILLS Date: Tue Jul 26 10:22:14 1994 I have Killed Here it is expected The plasterboard shakes as the spatter hits it brown on the blue Wet hot always on my skin I am not sorry I have expunged many things Buzzing bastardbugs that swarmfly of all types but everyone does that The tiny gracile neck of the feathered friend in my hands crunches like celery as I twist his head off black dropps his head in the bucket Leading the dull eyes of the brownwhite "Missy", foure hooves her crime small horns proud on her head into this cement room the old stains greygreen everywhere The drain buzzing with bugs the showerheads still here rustedcrusted over Her eyes are deeper than mine The silver plated Colt .45acp kicks twice as I pull the trigger and the shots punch though the front of her skull showers the room in flakes of bone and horn I swiftpierce the legs with the deadfall and hoist her I used to ride her up the backhills up over the drain as she drowns the flies dirtyblack blood on the floor the walls my legs hands face on my hearts The wheels of her eyes dead I own death so much I carry it like a cloud when I eat I know where the food comes from and my last death is the biggest The endless failures and the olive green bag of failure teh never living to my potential the misstep aand mistakes I lefy strewn behind me That killed my mother Badger01 From Skywise@yabbs Tue Jul 26 10:52:37 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: The Game Date: Tue Jul 26 10:52:37 1994 Juju knows that it's NEVER too late for the Cure From Lestat!@yabbs Tue Jul 26 12:06:02 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: Hash@yabbs Subject: Bereft of all intent Date: Tue Jul 26 12:06:02 1994 ______________________________________ I am bereft of all intent nothing, nowhere I exist for the pleasure of others and I sing and dance for the queen and lick a pool of blood for the mother of us all married to my death empty souls fly around, wailing and then gesture to the empty coffin From Lestat!@yabbs Tue Jul 26 12:07:55 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Explanation of my poetry Date: Tue Jul 26 12:07:55 1994 I write what, in my mind, in my heart, pours forth from my fingertips the anguished wailing of my subconscious And let your subconscious sort it out From Lestat!@yabbs Tue Jul 26 12:27:58 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Placenta grievance Date: Tue Jul 26 12:27:58 1994 The placenta grievance tortured soul in an endless purgatory the Gates of hell open to reveal a familar sight open wide, pass throughand smell the wiff of sulphur... tigh, round, and to the point very nice, on a sunday afternoon it's only your mother only the driven woman The bitch from hell, to put it lightly spacial frequencies pyromaniac on a distant pyre I remember the day when she gave me life when she tore me down, when she lept gracefully out of the wedding cake and deigned to dance with me and sat upon the tree limb and broke down in tears tears of blood of anguish made hard by the fact that I tried and failed I am a failure To protest and dismay and start the roaring fire again the crow speaks in a different tongue on the day of judgement From sienna@yabbs Tue Jul 26 12:42:11 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: The Game Date: Tue Jul 26 12:42:11 1994 You know, I have one of her albums but I have only listened to it once. I may have to go back and listen to the song you are talking about....hmm. Thanks for the comment....The Game is probably my favorite out of all the ones I have written. *hugs* Dee From Lestat!@yabbs Tue Jul 26 13:06:47 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: Hash@yabbs Subject: My dear Date: Tue Jul 26 13:06:47 1994 I don't think anyone else can read this. You just paged me so I can't writ ethe poem now. Look for it in the future... byebye From Lestat!@yabbs Tue Jul 26 14:57:11 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: wail pride Date: Tue Jul 26 14:57:11 1994 find my diamond necklace now, find it quick before it rusts eat my diamond necklace now, eat it quick before you choke its a whale of a goodtime on an evening by the park phsycos in the dark From Lestat!@yabbs Tue Jul 26 15:03:56 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: Hash@yabbs Subject: Queen of the Night Date: Tue Jul 26 15:03:56 1994 silence blankets the moonlit night i feel your presence your silken voice, in my ears in my soul And I scream and I rage no one is left. but me in this empty river of blue-black clouds the Queen has come, her will be done in earth as it is in Heaven Your lips pressed to mine, my flower, my love The Queen and the dead speak a language, and speak it quickly for it has come to pass and it will last and the dead speak a language, and speak it quickly mine eyes have seen your glory my hands have touched your hair The Queen From Maliach@yabbs Tue Jul 26 17:23:03 1994 From: Maliach@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Work in progress....:) Date: Tue Jul 26 17:23:03 1994 This is a poem I am still working on...:) He invades my dreams, Every night I see his beautiful face, He doesn't say a word. One dream, I asked ..."who are you?" He says nothing, just smiles, He continues with his task, To make me feel safe at night... He answered me unexpectly one night... "I am your strenght, I am your love, I am your own true heart..." I was amazed..... So every night, I see this stanger and friend, He is always there...... Well tell me that whatcha think...still working on it...:) Mali From sienna@yabbs Tue Jul 26 18:54:24 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Maliach@yabbs Subject: re: Work in progress....:) Date: Tue Jul 26 18:54:24 1994 Just a thought....your work is very good, but sometimes a little "talky"..not that that is bad, per se, but have you given any thought to imagery? I sent some lyrics of mine to a singer/songwriter with whom I had been corresponding with. He gave me some of the best criticism I have ever gotten on writing lyrics/poetry. He told me to "paint a picture" in the reader's mind. Don't just tell them something, but make them SEE it... Like I said, it is just a thought. Your poetry is very good all in all! *hugs* Dee From Natalie@yabbs Tue Jul 26 20:05:27 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: just me complaining again Date: Tue Jul 26 20:05:27 1994 oh...for the days when ppl wrote sonnets....*sigh* of course, i just got email from my best friend in which there was a hate sonnet...but are we the only ones who write them anymore? (and i write them badly) just me going on about what i like and don't like as much in poetry...i do NOT subscribe the the notion that anything that you write is poetry. i had teachers who told us that, and to be honest, i'm ashamed of what i wrote then. i destroyed it all... poetry comes from 'the foul rag and bone shop of the heart' (to quote you know who), for me, anyhow...the idea of making a thing of beauty ot of the squalor and ugliness that is inside myself is what makes me write poetry. now i know that others don't feel the way i do, and i respect that right. but it'd be nice to find someone else who feels the same way i do...*sigh* i've about had it with modern poetry (and it's all eliot and pound's fault, darn it...you know i HAD to bring them into it *smirk*)...it doesn't speak to me...it's as if i'm stuck back in time...and i know a lot of what i write is very modern poetry, but that's because altho i think in the ways of other times when i write poetry, my voice is of the present... did this make any sense to anyone other than me? natalie From jujubee@yabbs Tue Jul 26 23:11:15 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: The Game Date: Tue Jul 26 23:11:15 1994 well, you may just wanna pick it up again and listen...i can't believe you've only listened to it ONE time!!!! that's how it was when i got my Beloved tape...then i went to Greece and heard it again, came back to the States and started listening to it w/a "new" ear...anyhow, enjoy! :) From jujubee@yabbs Tue Jul 26 23:11:42 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: The Game Date: Tue Jul 26 23:11:42 1994 you got it, cupcake ;) From sienna@yabbs Wed Jul 27 01:59:15 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: just me complaining again Date: Wed Jul 27 01:59:15 1994 I agree completely....out of all contemporary poetry which we studied last term, only one or two poets actually appealed to me. And yes...I do think that your comment on thinking in the past but being a voice in the present makes lots of sense. Just my 0.02 worth. *hugs* Dee From Scully@yabbs Wed Jul 27 02:48:01 1994 From: Scully@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Heaven In Your Eyes Date: Wed Jul 27 02:48:01 1994 I just heard this song by Loverboy, and I wanted to post it....This is my first time posting on this board. I know that this isn't something *I* wrote, but it is a beautiful song.... I can tell by the look in your eyes you've been hurtin' You know I'll never let you down...oh, no And I'll try anything to keep it workin' You gave me time to find out What my heart was lookin' for And what I'm feelin' inside In your eyes I want to see your love again In your eyes I never want this feeling to end It took some time to find the light But now I realize I can see the heaven in your eyes Can't you see I'm finding it hard to let go All the ehartaches We've been through I never really thought I'd see This love grow But you helped me see Now I know what my heart's been looking for And what I'm feelin' inside We've been livin' on the edge Where only the strong survive We've been living on the edge And it's something that we just can't hide Oh this feeling inside In your eyes I want to see your love again In your eyes I never want this feeling to end It took some to find the light But now I realize I can see the heaven in your eyes I can see the heaven in your eyes Keep smiles on your face and love in your heart, for love and joy can never lead you wrong...... "Scully" From hawke@yabbs Wed Jul 27 03:45:57 1994 From: hawke@yabbs To: Scully@yabbs Subject: re: Heaven In Your Eyes Date: Wed Jul 27 03:45:57 1994 thats an old song it was from the top gun soundtrack ...best damn movie in the world heheh hawke From Scully@yabbs Wed Jul 27 12:12:59 1994 From: Scully@yabbs To: hawke@yabbs Subject: re: Heaven In Your Eyes Date: Wed Jul 27 12:12:59 1994 Yeah, I know. That is where I got the idea to post it. I was listening to the soundtrack, and that song made me think of my boyfriend. It describes our relationship. He broke up with me because he needed some time alone, and then he realised that he did love me. So, this song has personal meaning for me. As for TOP GUN, I couldn't agree with you more. It is my absolute favorite movie...."I feel the need, the need for speed!" Hehehehe Sincerely, Scully From Covenant@yabbs Wed Jul 27 19:59:41 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: just me complaining again Date: Wed Jul 27 19:59:41 1994 you know, you've got a point Natalie. I agree that the word 'poetry' has become too broad. The 'and creative writting' in the title of this group is the only thing that I feel allows me on here anyway :) to tell the honest truth, i wouldn't know a good poem if it bit me. but, to coin an old phrase, 'I may not know art, but I know what I like". :) the way I see it, is that writting is an emotinonal release for me. I'm in the engineeering/physical sciences so I really have no knowledge of the 'arts'. Plus, the last thing I want to do is 'think' about my emotions :) writting sortof does that for me though. I guess I'm just saying that writting is fun because I don't know what I'm doing. However, I have the utmost respect (and a little envy) for those people who can actually read a poem and understand it. To prove my point, I'll ask this question: What the hell is a sonnet?? :) Is that when a poem rhymes? I am completely art-illiterate. see you all this September, The Appalachian From Skywise@yabbs Wed Jul 27 21:22:01 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: just me complaining again Date: Wed Jul 27 21:22:01 1994 nice imagery, and you can dance to it! ^^^^^^^ we need a better word From Lestat!@yabbs Wed Jul 27 21:30:17 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: maliach@yabbs Subject: Very good Date: Wed Jul 27 21:30:17 1994 I liked your poem very much..it's seems like a natural progression in style and substance...I think(not talking about your poem) that imagery and thsat sort of thing have a place in poetry...creating worlds and ideas in the readers eyes and making them experience something that they have never experienced before..I like the reference to an anonymous person...giving voice to your own fantasy your own lave ...I would love to see more from you....I have a samall magazine ('zine) I would be willing to publish some material if I had permission... from your faithful, loving friend Les *smack* on the lips, that is.... From Lestat!@yabbs Wed Jul 27 21:31:05 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: sacrifice Date: Wed Jul 27 21:31:05 1994 rushing blood rendering wail sprite of the dead mummy. From Natalie@yabbs Wed Jul 27 21:58:32 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: sonnet Date: Wed Jul 27 21:58:32 1994 a shakespearean sonnet (which is what i write) is 14 lines of rhymed iambic pentameter....with a rhyme scheme of ababcdcdefefgg natalie From Lestat!@yabbs Thu Jul 28 13:41:19 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: sadie@yabbs Subject: broken tongue Date: Thu Jul 28 13:41:19 1994 I see endless wavelets crashing down on my head I see broken promises coming from the dead heady sweet aroma in the night chasing me away in my flight I feel and I choke and I scream I am not at all what I seem crazy days, broken tongue achtung baby selfless denial stay away from me, or I will defile the clean tombs, the clean rafters calamity on the road in my mind I need to be with my kind on the morning, in a pool of blood From Lestat!@yabbs Thu Jul 28 13:48:24 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Sweet dreams Date: Thu Jul 28 13:48:24 1994 I talked in my sleep one night, as I lay in my rumpled bed my lover by my side, my sleepless feelings collide passion brings out my animal instinct, my black nature the peaceful descends, the waking prevails I gather my dear in my arms, in a graceful gesture I carry her away from the evil of the snake people weeping fills my ears it is all I hear, so I run with my lovers body in my arms her pale blue eyes open in wonder and suprise, I kneel next to slender figure, hers I watch the slow movement of her breath rise her chest and fall her lips half parted in a mournful sigh, in envy I lick the remnants of the last night and, as I lay, tired and weak, I feel her life in me, and her soul in mine the waking sun collides with me and I run to the mansion, of my destiny my followers, leave the good, and I shall I shall the portent of mystery hangs in the sweet melodramatic air From sienna@yabbs Thu Jul 28 17:06:23 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Lestat!@yabbs Subject: re: Sweet dreams Date: Thu Jul 28 17:06:23 1994 I really liked that.......nice imagery Dee From Lestat!@yabbs Thu Jul 28 17:15:04 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Pool of Blood Date: Thu Jul 28 17:15:04 1994 I am sitting in a pool of blood thinking about all that has happened remembering days when it was all so easy I am in utter despair, a hole as deep as any pit in hell My love has abandoned me My life has fallen around my feet, in shambles all I want is a little bit of love, a tender heart to cry on all I need is someone to listen someone to talk to me about themselves and us, and death, and life, and sex and it all adds up to a hole in my heart as big as a galaxy and I feed, my lusts, my innermost desires a frenzy, a killing frenzy my mind has gone blank, my aching heart is in pain I scream to the gods for help they laugh, and go there own ways I am alone alone, in my pool of blood From Lestat!@yabbs Thu Jul 28 17:31:25 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: whatever Date: Thu Jul 28 17:31:25 1994 I just want everyone to know that this is only a beginning. you will see more from me, and better. From Natalie@yabbs Thu Jul 28 20:03:48 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Lestat!@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Thu Jul 28 20:03:48 1994 ok, this is a base for criticism, right? from what i've read, your poetry seems very derivative of others' work. while you have strong imagaery and a good sense of language, when i read your poetry i can't help but thinking i've read it, or something LIKE it before. you've read a lot of the romantics, haven't you? and a bit of anne rice, as well (gee, that was hard to guess :) ) but i'm not saying this to be mean or to cut you down, just to point out to you whati notice. but i also gather you're just starting out, so it's ok to be somewhat derivative of your influences. but you HAVE to find your own voice if you want to get anywhere. i've been atthis for god knows how long and i'm still trying to distance myself from my influences (yeats and the romantics) in order to find my voice. natalie From Badger01@yabbs Thu Jul 28 21:24:29 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Kill Date: Thu Jul 28 21:24:29 1994 Since I loved you And you may go on and do something I won't kill you even though you've killed me I'll just take this blue black stygian hand me down this 2 guage lead thrower my grandad let me have when the cancer was done turning his skin yellow and his bone green, and I'll place this baby nice and gentle against the thin back of my mouth and I'll say hello to Satan for you Badger01 PS: This poem goes out to all those assholes who can't accept that a girl has the right to leave them...If you feel the need to kill something, make it a shot for yourself...after all, you should never do to others what you haven't tried yourself, right? From jujubee@yabbs Fri Jul 29 08:26:57 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: Kill Date: Fri Jul 29 08:26:57 1994 hey, that was a pretty c00l poem...i loved it! especially the allusion to granddad... From Skywise@yabbs Fri Jul 29 09:33:11 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Fri Jul 29 09:33:11 1994 Of poems by yeats, nothing beats When he was a lad he wet the sheets And when he grew older he wore some cleats To his high school running meets. your pal, Skywise (strongly influenced by yeats) From Natalie@yabbs Fri Jul 29 09:37:35 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Fri Jul 29 09:37:35 1994 um...you do know that it's pronounced yates, not yeets, right? natalie From Skywise@yabbs Fri Jul 29 10:58:11 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Fri Jul 29 10:58:11 1994 I'm a deconstructionalist. From jujubee@yabbs Fri Jul 29 16:41:25 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Fri Jul 29 16:41:25 1994 aaaaaaaaaaaahahahahahahah! From Natalie@yabbs Fri Jul 29 17:11:15 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Fri Jul 29 17:11:15 1994 you just didn't know how to pronounce it and are now tryingto cover up your mistake.... your good buddy, natalie who knows how to say yeats From Skywise@yabbs Fri Jul 29 17:27:54 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Fri Jul 29 17:27:54 1994 How did he pronounce it the last time you spoke with him? your enraged pal, Sky$%^&%*wise ;) From Natalie@yabbs Fri Jul 29 22:48:58 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Fri Jul 29 22:48:58 1994 i'll have you know that i talk to mon cher william butler yeats every evening before igo to bed, using my psychic friend (i use latoya's service, not dionne's). so there. :P you infuriated buddy, natalie From Skywise@yabbs Sat Jul 30 09:24:50 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Sat Jul 30 09:24:50 1994 It figures you'd be too dum to call Sly's mom for advice. :p your smiling pal, Skywise From topi@yabbs Sat Jul 30 10:08:57 1994 From: topi@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: Kill Date: Sat Jul 30 10:08:57 1994 "Here, here" "Bravo" I like your reasoning behind this poem. Its very true. I wish we could all take a huge saucepan and beat some of those losers over the head with it. Some people are just soo stupid. *partially enraged at the loss of innocent lives because of stupid fuckwits who think they're god.* -Cath excuse the language.. I'll have to work on that ;) From Badger01@yabbs Sat Jul 30 13:58:15 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Sat Jul 30 13:58:15 1994 King Goll Mock's Yall! Badger01 Your Furry Buddy From Badger01@yabbs Sat Jul 30 14:02:59 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: topi@yabbs Subject: re: Kill Date: Sat Jul 30 14:02:59 1994 I've got an ex-girlfriend who has to live in my apartment because the shithole she's been seeing is a nutcase who can't accept it is over. We don't feel anything but friendship, in case people think she left him for me...but the Restraining order is a joke, he ignores it, the cops hesitate to do anything cause it's DOMESTIC...and Equality aside, he weighs a hundred pounds more than her, and is sick. She can take care of herself...but he's willing to kill her. Now, I've been dumped a lot...and it never occured to me that by attacking the person who did it I'd change their mind about me....but that's how some men think. So now she has to live in my apartment...(She still has her own, but her roommate is alone there with HER boyfriend at the moment...It's like we've circled the wagons.) If he comes HERE looking for her, I don't know what I'll do, but he won't enjoy it. Badger Realizing that this is the Poetry Board, but that is a poem in a way From jujubee@yabbs Sat Jul 30 14:38:44 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: Kill Date: Sat Jul 30 14:38:44 1994 yeah, i dated a lunatic one time that came over to my apt in the middle of the night (drunk) and freaked me out...he couldn't accept the fact that it was over either...i had a thin, cheap door, so i was pretty freaked...since he had a knife, too...finally, i called the cops...that was the hardest thing i have ever done in my life i think...they took him and booked him for P.I....was that the last i ever saw of him??? hell no! the saga continued................ From sienna@yabbs Sat Jul 30 16:32:52 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: Kill Date: Sat Jul 30 16:32:52 1994 Matt, I can understand your ex-girlfriends position COMPLETELY...an ex of mine has been stalking me for the past two years, and back in May he up with me finally in a deserted lot at school. I will spare you the gory details but suffice it to say that I ended up in ICU for a while. The asshole has yet to be caught by the police (who aren't looking very hard I might add), and he left a nasty note on my car last night telling me I was going to regret going to the police about the incident in May. The police won't do a damn thing to help me...I dont know why I am telling you this except to say that I understand where your ex-girlfriend is coming from. Sincerely hoping all goes well for you both... Dee P.S. This is a poem too ;) From Skywise@yabbs Sat Jul 30 19:45:07 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: natalie@yabbs Subject: yates Date: Sat Jul 30 19:45:07 1994 Yeats, Yeats he master... of a thousand rhymes I told him he could suck me... in a thousand times. Into his world of hors... d'ervs of poetry And with his big fat... pen delight the hell outta me. your enlightened pal, Skywise From Cat@yabbs Sat Jul 30 23:40:57 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: another one Date: Sat Jul 30 23:40:57 1994 once upon a time there was a slug name pete he slimed all through the forest searching for something to eat. and when he finally found a tree stump that looked mighty good, there came a troop of boy scouts who smashed him flat for good. this story's a bit grisly, and i know it sounds quite grim, but think about pete's fate and hope you don't end up like him. but sometimes such things happen, and that's just how it goes, and now the decomposer's become the decomposed. like it? :) -tammie From Natalie@yabbs Sun Jul 31 01:43:20 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: another one Date: Sun Jul 31 01:43:20 1994 i like.....hmmm...you named the slug pete? *smirk* could this be casting aspersions on anyone? natalie From Cat@yabbs Sun Jul 31 10:11:34 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: another one Date: Sun Jul 31 10:11:34 1994 nope...it was the only name that rhymed with meat that i could think of. i could have named him Keats i s'pose, but then i would have had to change all the verbs...i should have named him Meat now that i think about it...ah well :) -tammie From Skywise@yabbs Sun Jul 31 14:55:16 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: another one Date: Sun Jul 31 14:55:16 1994 hmmmmm.....Keats....rhymes with hates RIGHT? your thuroughly-disgusted-with-having-to-pronuonce-names-correctly pal, Skywise From Natalie@yabbs Sun Jul 31 21:26:08 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Skywise@yabbs Subject: re: another one Date: Sun Jul 31 21:26:08 1994 actually, no. it's pronounced keets. as opposed to yeats, which is pronounced yates. your anal retentive beyond belief buddy, natalie From Badger01@yabbs Mon Aug 1 10:20:23 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Something I have to post... Date: Mon Aug 1 10:20:23 1994 Remember all those renowned generations, They left their bodies to fatten the wolves, They left their homesteads to fatten the foxes, Fled to far countries, or sheltered themselves In cavern, crevice, or hole Defending Ireland's soul. --W.B. Yeats, From THREE MARCHING SONGS I just read that this morning...In all the bockering we sometimes do, it's easy to forget that the work of teh writer is the most imprtant thing. Badger01 Still likes Eliot better, but that is one hell of a poet, that Yeats guy From Lestat!@yabbs Mon Aug 1 13:47:04 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: Hash@yabbs Subject: Tension Date: Mon Aug 1 13:47:04 1994 ____________________________________________ Is this tension I feel? do I kneel to the god of indecision? No, not me... not I, who lets the kings and queen bow to me. or Am I alone? Can I feel the great expanse of hostility, the bleak pages If only I could sink into your embrace, forgetting touching your delicate face... my blind ambition, leads me astray from the true goals the only real purpose pretending, it all begins, and it all ends deception, black misunderstood truths, I only shake my head I am alone in this world, my thoughts my own and only that alone and true blackness of heart only seems pale to my agony misaligned, I am so very tired I am so very tired and sad and scared and lonely all alone relieve my tension because I love you let me scream out and turn loose the torrent of my black sad heart From jujubee@yabbs Mon Aug 1 16:38:10 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: another one Date: Mon Aug 1 16:38:10 1994 YES!!!!!!!! however, i just take care of MY slugs by pouring table salt over them...that way they kind of *fizzle* slowly and painfully away.... much more sadistic than a mere *stomp!* hehehehe From Cat@yabbs Mon Aug 1 17:38:21 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: another one Date: Mon Aug 1 17:38:21 1994 my parents buy a bottle of beer and open it and leave it on the front lawn...the slugs like the yeast or whatever and crawl in and drink themselves to death and can't crawl out...and that's the only time my parents ever buy alcohol...to kill slugs -tammie From Skywise@yabbs Mon Aug 1 18:12:29 1994 From: Skywise@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: another one Date: Mon Aug 1 18:12:29 1994 aaaaaaahhhhhhh...but what a way to go... This poem (c) Skywise Inc., 42 Skyline Drive, Skybrook, NJ 70449 From jujubee@yabbs Mon Aug 1 18:49:06 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: another one Date: Mon Aug 1 18:49:06 1994 ya know TammieCat, i think we had this conversation once before...it seems vaguely familiar! (either that, or i've been climbing in waaaaaaaay too many beer bottles like the slugs ;) ) From Badger01@yabbs Mon Aug 1 19:05:05 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: I loved her, I think Date: Mon Aug 1 19:05:05 1994 It's hard to tell now Just things that stick to the back of my brain Smell Pastel colored snippets of her voice The way I still remember the shape of her face (Oval...not round, oval) And the smell Pulses race or stagger to a halt I still remember her smell From Covenant@yabbs Mon Aug 1 20:09:59 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: another one Date: Mon Aug 1 20:09:59 1994 Tammie, your stuff always puts a smile on my face. Don't stop. your brother, Covenant From jujubee@yabbs Mon Aug 1 22:40:17 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Badger01@yabbs Subject: re: I loved her, I think Date: Mon Aug 1 22:40:17 1994 "Pastel colored snippets of her voice" fantastically poetic! From Natalie@yabbs Tue Aug 2 01:11:23 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: jujubee@yabbs Subject: re: I loved her, I think Date: Tue Aug 2 01:11:23 1994 i loved that line too....that's an INCREDIBLE image, it just totally stays with you... natalie From Deluge@yabbs Tue Aug 2 02:51:02 1994 From: Deluge@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: another one Date: Tue Aug 2 02:51:02 1994 Yes! alcholic slugs! Maybe we should start A.A meetings for co-dependendant insects that leave a slime trail everywhere they go...:) From sienna@yabbs Tue Aug 2 03:49:03 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: I loved her, I think Date: Tue Aug 2 03:49:03 1994 I couldn't agree with you more..... (I sneaked on for a quick Yabbs fix...hehehe couldn't resist!) *hugs* Dee P.S. Great job Matt.... From Badger01@yabbs Tue Aug 2 09:46:38 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: re: I loved her, I think Date: Tue Aug 2 09:46:38 1994 Thank y'all kindly...Me and my swelled head are going to go write something else. Badger01 From jujubee@yabbs Tue Aug 2 11:07:34 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Deluge@yabbs Subject: re: another one Date: Tue Aug 2 11:07:34 1994 hmmmm...i have seen quite a few individuals w/those character traits... From Lestat!@yabbs Tue Aug 2 12:24:41 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Hello? Date: Tue Aug 2 12:24:41 1994 Is it me, or does no one like my poetry? Am I sitting alone in a world without equals? From Badger01@yabbs Tue Aug 2 12:34:17 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: Lestat!@yabbs Subject: re: Hello? Date: Tue Aug 2 12:34:17 1994 I'm sorry. Lestat!...I'll try to be more supportive. You big baby, you :)...Just kidding. Seriously, I know how you feel, man...I'll get right on it. Badger01 From Lestat!@yabbs Tue Aug 2 13:32:18 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Date: Tue Aug 2 13:32:18 1994 We're all mad it seems, given our own lives laughter and weeping are the same one stretch on the road, black mist in the air lovers quarrel, endless debate so it seems From Natalie@yabbs Tue Aug 2 13:36:38 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Lestat!@yabbs Subject: re: Hello? Date: Tue Aug 2 13:36:38 1994 i never said i didn't like it. i was just giving you some of my impressions about it. constuctive criticism is a writers best friend. you should hear what's been done to some of my stuff. (not on this borad, but in classes). ans we're talking an hour of people dissecting your work while you can't say a word. but the most important thing i think you need to do is to find your own voice. your influences are importanat, yes, but you need to speak in a voice that is your own. otherwise you'll never get published. (like i've been published. ha!) natalie From Lestat!@yabbs Tue Aug 2 16:24:24 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Tue Aug 2 16:24:24 1994 oops. never saw your message...my mistake.. but, really, I haven't read very much other poetry what so ever I don't believe my poetry is exactly like someone elses, or whateve ryou said of course, everyone tries to find their voice, I like my work to be thick in imagery and narrative, intermingling thanks for the citiscism anyway 'm not heavily into Anne Rice, either It mostly comes through my own mind, deatailed death and stuff sigh oh, well, poets have to struggle, and me most of all From sienna@yabbs Tue Aug 2 17:16:07 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Lestat!@yabbs Subject: re: Hello? Date: Tue Aug 2 17:16:07 1994 I understand EXACTLY how you feel...sometimes I think people on here just ignore everything I write too... Maybe it wouldn't hurt us all (myself included) to be a little more considerate... Dee From sienna@yabbs Tue Aug 2 17:17:14 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Lestat!@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue Aug 2 17:17:14 1994 Ooooh I like that.....good imagery...and I know what it says to me about love *sigh* (does it even exist?) Good job, you night creature you ;) Dee From sienna@yabbs Tue Aug 2 17:18:33 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Lestat!@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Tue Aug 2 17:18:33 1994 Sienna smiles....hehehehe very creative way to post your response (*poke*) *hugs* Dee From jujubee@yabbs Tue Aug 2 17:37:23 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Lestat!@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue Aug 2 17:37:23 1994 that's more my type, Lestat! i like short poetry better...never did get into epics and such...so i rarely comment on the loooong poetry... in a nutshell....that is it From Maliach@yabbs Tue Aug 2 17:54:54 1994 From: Maliach@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Picture Date: Tue Aug 2 17:54:54 1994 I am still working on this so let me know what ypou think... Pictures , all I see is pictures, A picture of you and me in the sunset comes up.... Red golden and new.... I can see the love in your eyes, Clear as a cloudless sky, Promices of forever.... For that one fleeting moment I am happy Mali From Zippo@yabbs Tue Aug 2 20:36:26 1994 From: Zippo@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Keep it up. Date: Tue Aug 2 20:36:26 1994 Hey everyone! I just wanted to say that I haven't been reading this base for long, but I like many of the things I read on here. I would just like to say keep up the good work! And if I ever feel creative, maybe I'll add some lines of my own. See you around. Zippo From sienna@yabbs Tue Aug 2 22:51:16 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Zippo@yabbs Subject: re: Keep it up. Date: Tue Aug 2 22:51:16 1994 I would *very* much like to see you post....*hint* *hint* Or I'll just drag the poetry outta ya when I come up to Vermont....*giggle* Love, Dee From pbj@yabbs Tue Aug 2 23:50:42 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: Lestat!@yabbs Subject: re: Date: Tue Aug 2 23:50:42 1994 amen...couldn't have said it better myself... pbj Colleen Marie mirrors Aweburning From Natalie@yabbs Wed Aug 3 01:40:14 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Lestat!@yabbs Subject: re: whatever Date: Wed Aug 3 01:40:14 1994 i said it was derivative. you don't need to read a lot of poetry to do that. if just one poem by someone sticks in your head and you go to write a poem, that poem may end up being similar in ways to the one you read. which isn't necessarily a bad thing. i've written poems like that, but i usually do it on purpose, to comment on the poem. but keep with it, you aren't doing all that bad for someone just starting out...i was much worse (well worse isn't a good word, but i'm too tired to think of a better one, i mean my work was on a much lower level than yours is, shit that still don't sound right. i'm not insulting you here, i'm just super tired) than you when i started, i'm ashamed to admit i wrote some of the stuff i did. natalie From Badger01@yabbs Wed Aug 3 08:57:24 1994 From: Badger01@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Stones Date: Wed Aug 3 08:57:24 1994 The weight holds me down shifting...I think someone's jumping around up there Can see blue between them, more shifting Each crack comes from somewhere inside my chest, and I don't think there's much more to go EVery noise comes with a kaliedescope flash of orange blue Reminds me why I swore off dating Badger01 From Lestat!@yabbs Wed Aug 3 12:42:06 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: *bow* Date: Wed Aug 3 12:42:06 1994 thank you, all, thank *bow* you *bow* *applause* your sooo kind.... heh heh heh From Cat@yabbs Thu Aug 4 08:59:29 1994 From: Cat@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: Keep it up. Date: Thu Aug 4 08:59:29 1994 you're coming to VT? why, might i ask? :) i LIVE in boring ol' VT and i have for 19 years and i cannot imagine anyone voluntarily coming here :) i've been spending my time trying to think of ways of getting out :) -tammie From sienna@yabbs Thu Aug 4 10:36:51 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Cat@yabbs Subject: re: Keep it up. Date: Thu Aug 4 10:36:51 1994 ODE TO CAT ---------- i ing by as the states one by one go by i have a calling to see the sun to try and see if he's the one as the states go by i have a question for you is it love? is it true? is it you? or me? ok ok ok stupid, I know. I am coming to VT to visit Zippo.... VT can't be all THAT bad....come on Tammie, I live in OHIO. *giggle* ;) Dee From Natalie@yabbs Thu Aug 4 13:20:22 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: Keep it up. Date: Thu Aug 4 13:20:22 1994 yeah, ohio is MUCH worse than vt...i've been toboth states and i just wanna say that i'd rather live in vt than ohio any day...corn has a tendency to grate on me...i think vt is really pretty... natalie From sienna@yabbs Thu Aug 4 14:25:44 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Keep it up. Date: Thu Aug 4 14:25:44 1994 Amen! *hug* Dee From sienna@yabbs Thu Aug 4 14:34:31 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: We'll Say Goodbye Date: Thu Aug 4 14:34:31 1994 We'll Say Goodbye ----------------- We've come too far to let this moment go by unnoticed The tears that fall are tears of goodbye A final embrace, words to be remembered Farewells are so hard, we can't help but cry Falling teardrops worth a thousand words A thousand words we're too afraid to say We may never pass this way again So we'll say goodbye and sadly walk away The words of a song bring back the fading memories But dimly reflect how we truly feel We had one chance to make it last forever Hold onto your heart, this parting's all too real Falling teardrops worth a thousand words A thousand words we're too afraid to say We may never pass this way again So we'll say goodbye and sadly walk away Hearts bruised and battered, enotions overflowing We're afraid to let the hurting show Tears falling soft, like rain upon a forest It's hard to do, but we have to let go Falling teardrops worth a thousand words A thousand words we're too afraid to say We may never pass this way again So we'll say goodbye and slowly walk away We'll say goodbye Yes we've said goodbye We'll say goodbye and slowly walk away. This is a song I wrote....I have finally learned how to let go. I hope this song speaks to you as much as it does me. I have finally found the peace I was looking for...funny, it was inside me the whole time. I had to find it within myself. *hugs* to BlueMax, Faith, Skywise, Natalie, and especially Zippo for helping me through one of the most difficult times in my life. I love you guys! dee From Natalie@yabbs Thu Aug 4 16:53:04 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: We'll Say Goodbye Date: Thu Aug 4 16:53:04 1994 *hug* i'm glad sis, i really am natalie From Covenant@yabbs Thu Aug 4 17:59:50 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: Keep it up. Date: Thu Aug 4 17:59:50 1994 DEEEE!!!! I will not stand by and watch you badmouth the kingdom of Appalachia! :) From Covenant@yabbs Thu Aug 4 18:01:17 1994 From: Covenant@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: Keep it up. Date: Thu Aug 4 18:01:17 1994 eeekkkkk! I just read the reply from Natalie! Nat? how could you?!?!?!! Long live OHIO and it people! Covenant, The Appalachian, The Buckeye, The Heart of It All From jujubee@yabbs Thu Aug 4 18:18:19 1994 From: jujubee@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: re: Keep it up. Date: Thu Aug 4 18:18:19 1994 I dunno...i've seen some really nice places in Ohio...some really lovely rolling hills and all... From Faith@yabbs Thu Aug 4 19:32:11 1994 From: Faith@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: your poem.. Date: Thu Aug 4 19:32:11 1994 first part of this message. Sis *BIG TEXAS SIZED HUGS* to you. I miss talking to you. I have so much to say. Ok, your song was great. BUT, somehow I thought it would have made me sad. I think I am just too happy with all that has been going on with me the last few days that nothing can bring me down right now. *grin*. I am glad to have been of help. You know I am always there for you. Talk to you soon. Love, ME From sienna@yabbs Thu Aug 4 19:54:30 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: BlueMax@yabbs Subject: Kaleidoscope Date: Thu Aug 4 19:54:30 1994 BlueMax, I think you will understand the origins of this poem, as will Faith and Natalie and Skywise and even hawke...... KALEIDOSCOPE ------------ i am like a kaleidoscope many colors and many parts. some very close in hue some very different. sometimes parts group together and form an organized pattern other times it is just chaos with each piece going its own direction some patterns are beautiful and make sense. some are so scattered, there seems to be no semblence of sanity. ...ever turning, ever changing, stability merely a dream so far away. people use the kaleidoscope to try and find the pattern of their desire. but often the pattern is not there and they go away. other people are happy just to see the colors and stay around for a while. how do you make the green pieces into pink pieces into blue pieces into yello pieces... or do you? So all, whatcha think (especially those who know what the poem is about). Enjoi, Dee From Natalie@yabbs Thu Aug 4 22:29:36 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Covenant@yabbs Subject: re: Keep it up. Date: Thu Aug 4 22:29:36 1994 cove, my man, i'm in MICHIGAN...it's a law that we have to be rude about all surrounding states... natalie From Natalie@yabbs Thu Aug 4 22:30:35 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: sienna@yabbs Subject: re: Kaleidoscope Date: Thu Aug 4 22:30:35 1994 that's beautiful sis *hug* natalie From Zippo@yabbs Thu Aug 4 23:30:34 1994 From: Zippo@yabbs To: dee@yabbs Subject: re: Kaleidoscope Date: Thu Aug 4 23:30:34 1994 Well sweetheart, I think I have a good understanding of the kaleidoscope and I think it was very intuitive. I just hope you see that I'm not one of those who wants to find a certain pattern, nor am I one who just wants to stick around for a while to see what beautiful colors I can see. I want to be here for you and all your beautiful colors! Love, Zippo From Natalie@yabbs Fri Aug 5 02:12:42 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: a poem i wrote Date: Fri Aug 5 02:12:42 1994 heat on my back your hand on my side moving up and down down and up i'm not alone as i was before i am with you and i know it's not going to last but i don't care i take the opportunity and there are no regrets i do what i must you have to understand that is how it happened and i'm alone again waiting and waiting endlessly waiting you have to understand i'm not perfect no matter what you think i get lonely sometimes too and i do what i must you have to understand you have to have to have to understand i should learn how to make titles for my poetry, eh? enjoy......... natalie From sienna@yabbs Fri Aug 5 02:49:26 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Zippo@yabbs Subject: re: Kaleidoscope Date: Fri Aug 5 02:49:26 1994 Thanks, hon, that is why I love you.... *hug* Love, Dee From pbj@yabbs Fri Aug 5 03:52:23 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: Natalie@yabbs Subject: re: a poem i wrote Date: Fri Aug 5 03:52:23 1994 wow nat-bug i can totally relate to that one....as for titles for that one at laest try "heat" it would work...who ever said that they had to totally agree with the whole poem ...right???? luv ya!! pbj colleen marie aweburning mirrors From pbj@yabbs Fri Aug 5 04:19:50 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: clutter my mind with memory Date: Fri Aug 5 04:19:50 1994 wow i found something good that i didn't post already...new concept!!! here goes CLUTTER MY MIND WITH MEMORY *************************** When I was with you I felt small pink and clean Your weight felt all over my existence The bite impression should not fade from my eyes As it dwindles your weight leaves my soul As i drove home your memory was sitting with me in pain and wanting The water ran hotly Hurting my frozen feet as it spilled down my shoulders I felt a loss of you and what I'd asked for Now as I sit waiting for your presence to bewilder me into stunned silence I feel anticipation and fore- thought clutter my mind with memory. -mirrors (c) Aweburning 1993 soo what'd ya think? needless to say that was one long christmas day oh well colleen marie pbj From pbj@yabbs Fri Aug 5 04:23:30 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: a new thought Date: Fri Aug 5 04:23:30 1994 i dunno i have alot of stuff all about this one relationship that i had just b4/ after christmas 1993 i was wondering tht if anybuddy likes the last post should i post most/ ll of it or should i put it somewhere in the g-files??? i dunno that was the best time for me to write in my whole life...alot of good stuff comes from hard expierencs especially ones tht open your eyes to things that you knew were ther but refused to acknowledge...al right enough rambling on about nothing that makes sense to only me....well lemme know if ya'll think it would be worth my time to type all this stuff up...... colleen marie mirrors aweburning pbj From Typhon@yabbs Fri Aug 5 09:56:40 1994 From: Typhon@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: Pulp Date: Fri Aug 5 09:56:40 1994 Chained myself down The whispers wrap hissing around my thighs strap across my skin bleaching the color Tie me down with my words Make me believe in my worthlessness canary yellow my eyes of doubt Blacker than the obsidian you slide in my chest Divine the future with the slickropes of my guts roll the bones with mine I held me down so you could kill me I held the gun I pointed it I pulled the trigger But it was the world that killed me Out of fear BTW: That's another of my "On THe Spot" Type poems....I haven't written anything but fiction lately off of Yabbs...But someone I talked to yesterday (No Names) was convinced he was stupid and worthless just because that's what they teach those of us who are better so we don't supplant them...and it affected me. Typhon the Usurper From sienna@yabbs Fri Aug 5 12:17:54 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: clutter my mind with memory Date: Fri Aug 5 12:17:54 1994 Excellent, colleen, wonderful. And I can relate. Love, Dee From sienna@yabbs Fri Aug 5 12:19:27 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: pbj@yabbs Subject: re: a new thought Date: Fri Aug 5 12:19:27 1994 Colleen, PLEASE dont stop sharing with us, the poems written while feeling ANY intense emotion (be it happiness, extreme sadness, depression) are always the ones that grab the reader and pull them in... Keep it up, hon! Dee From Lestat!@yabbs Fri Aug 5 13:00:36 1994 From: Lestat!@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: thoughts of a mad student Date: Fri Aug 5 13:00:36 1994 og god, is it morning yet, damn, what have I been working on for the last couple of hours? a paper? an essay? or have I been reading? studying? damn...I better down some Vivarin soon...the box is empty? oh yeah, I ate um up last nigh wooo, am I blacking out? my god, it's still dark out...morning yet? where the hell am I? I wonder if I'll die, would I get a BS in phsyc? why has no one realized that bs stands for Bullshit? help me mommy, I wanna sleep....goddamn, what am I gonna eat? here's some macaroni from last night...or was that this night? wahtever...god, I have to shit sooo bad...who used up all the toilet paper? what am I supposed to wipe my ass with, for godsakes?I don't to walk around with a dirty ass! I need some sleep, I'll catch up tomorrow night. AAAHHHH! light! it's morning, and I haven't even done whatever I was supposed to have done! shit, gotta get dressed....ALL my clothes are dirty?! god, why doesn't someone clean them? oh, who the fuck cares, as long as they protect me from the harsh wind...god, I feel sorrounded with grease..pick up my books out the door... oh shit! here comes that asshole, Jeremy! "hi there jeremy." (dumbass piece of shit) go out for coffee? why, sure, I'd love to! (deserves to die, the dickhead) From Natalie@yabbs Fri Aug 5 22:21:29 1994 From: Natalie@yabbs To: Lestat!@yabbs Subject: re: thoughts of a mad student Date: Fri Aug 5 22:21:29 1994 if you want to read some kick ass stream of consciusness poetry read "Une Saison En Enfer" ("A Season In Hell") by Arthur Rimbaud. he stopped writing poetry by the time he was 20...but what he did write was INCREDIBLE (albeit drug inspired....)....there's other s of c stuff that he did too, but season in hell is my favorite... natalie From Death@yabbs Sat Aug 6 00:38:02 1994 From: Death@yabbs To: dee@yabbs Subject: thoughts Date: Sat Aug 6 00:38:02 1994 Dee, I LOVE your writing. It always seems to reflect my life, feelings, or frame of mind completely... Please keep up the great work and I hope to see more of it soon! *hug* --Les From pbj@yabbs Sat Aug 6 03:10:54 1994 From: pbj@yabbs To: all@yabbs Subject: more of that Date: Sat Aug 6 03:10:54 1994 here's more from that series i started with "Clutter my mind with memory" closing my eyes to the outside beating strumming, musing searching the room for a note not paper, a note pouring the whole into it the voices are driving me to insanity a frenzy next door is frustrating and annoying they play without a meaning or purpose scratching and pounding to find a reason for itall it escapes them and they feel all the more empty for it napkins cannot keep the mess in can't you see he wishes to be left alone? leave him alone. can't you take a clue from the mournful expression upon that thing that mirrors his troubled soul? that is the very first on about 20 or so to come ..if you get sick of it just yell.... colleen marie aweburning (1993) mirrors pbj From sienna@yabbs Sat Aug 6 03:27:44 1994 From: sienna@yabbs To: Death@yabbs Subject: Me Date: Sat Aug 6 03:27:44 1994 Thanks, Les. Your enco