grw@fortune.UUCP (Glenn Wichman) (07/13/84)
bip. (sorry if I posted this one before -- I don't remember) AVALON Avalon lies in her hammock in her ship and sings Of unknown lands beyond her bay And gifts of unknown things A woman who needs nothing more Than shoes with wheels and wings. Avalon skates lonely through her namesake town alone Avalon -- the last resort The streets of cobblestone The last ship lies in harbor A woman calls it home. Avalon I miss you as you miss your ocean friends Avalon the woman and The town that never ends Avalon, I may return I want to make ammends STARSHINE Happy New Year, 1968 Happy birthday, sweet sixteen So much of life, of love, of hate Of leather vests and faded jeans So much this decade can create So much more than a dream Timestorms rage and then abate Are things really as they seem? Happy New Year, 1984 Happy birthday, Seventeen You lost 15 years or more Where has the world gone, in between? So much the '60s gained and lost Such fleeting victories Starshine only paid the cost Don't leave her in the '80s, please THE INVENTOR WHO WAS NOT SATISFIED WITH SUBURBAN LIFE For me the biggest dream came to true In a pink house feeling blue I sat, fat, happy, safe and bored Nothing more to struggle toward Getting here was all the fun The cold hard struggle now is done The sky is blue, the grass is green The air is way too clear I think I'll build a time machine I must get out of here. The commander speaks out in Old Norse The Viking warship alters course I sail with nordic pillagers Surprised the hapless villagers The Viking Glories in my head Were lost on faces of the dead As the last old farmer died The Vikings gave a cheer I am feeling sick inside I must get out of here. In Spanish, freedom fighters speak It is Cuba's good we seek If some must die in Freedom's birth Destiny shows what it's worth Killing brothers face to face Castro takes Samoza's place It seems in Cuba, the disease Was no worse than the cure And so I'm filled with great unease I must get out of here. Mars Hill abuzz with Attic Greek I think I'll stop and take a peek I sat and talked philosophies With those who follow Socrates I followed him among the best Until the day of his arrest The Greeks and their democracy Are not what they appear Before they get around to me I must get out of here. Harsh words in Aramaic came To those who serve God just in name I follow to Jerusalem I sing His song along with them I saw the price that Jesus paid I saw the night He was betrayed They took Him to be crucified I watch the people jeer I could not watch Him as He died I must get out of here. For me the biggest dream came to true In a way I never knew Through ages past adventure came I found them all to be the same Each days glory, each days sin My new adventure lies within My time machine will turn to rust His Spirit draws me near My body fades away to dust I must be out of here. -Glenn
mhauck@ihuxk.UUCP (MJH) (03/01/85)
Fog 2/22/85 Touch the fog, feel it swirl Shapes, soften to be beautiful Hold me close, wrapped in mist Illusions replace reality Walk a road in the bright sunlight See how different it is in fog Silent, wet fog, swirling thick, thin Hear the footsteps echoing back I love the fog, watching it swirl Moving like a wraith, forward I have no shape or form, I become the fog Slipping from shadow to shadow I move with the life of nature Mary Hauck Spring 2/25/85 Soft spring rain, brings new life and love begins anew For the cold is leaving, for now a new season begins Refreshing is the air now filled with the soft scents of spring Be happy and rejoice for new days sweet spring you bring new life I will walk with you find the softness of the spring air Know the joys of finding life and watching new lives being born Mary Hauck God 2/17/85 When you walk alone, you are at one with God To be at peace in a world filled with war Be aware of what follows with life Know that each day begins anew with prayer Search your heart, finding love with love God lives here and now with faith Mary Hauck Any comments are welcomed.
fonseca@iswiss.DEC (Dave Fonseca 232-2502) (11/05/85)
Huh!? My brother Arthur Fonseka wrote these during a recent visit. Please skip right by this if you are looking for the 'Easy Listening'-type poetry that this newsgroup seems to attract. David Fonseca DEC Internal Software Services (DEC E-NET) ISWISS::FONSECA (UUCP) {decvax, ucbvax, allegra}!decwrl!dec-rhea!dec-iswiss!fonseca (ARPA) fonseca%iswiss.DEC@decwrl.ARPA Poesy. can you speak when you tell the truth , does it matter eye change dim in the stormeye glows weak through distance love grows weak the retina. myopia and the shattered eyelid the cracking, oculation there is vision in seperation we can see each other through the tremors of an earthquake where is your crystal? it is in my box of infamy.cube of death where they keep their ill-gotten goods. safety deposit box. hold it close to your chest so that when you are assassinated it will be destroyed with your greed. Bourgeois ice cold comfort of leisure stick something up your ass covet someone .spinal fluid draining into your hand. wipe the embryos off of the counter and flush them drowning in the death of our caring. count them, count them again. the cells of our dissolution harvest the fruits growing from our chemical urine, sprayed from a plastic urethra and wipe the cancer from your memory onto your belly. as if it were truly fertile or containing life within the cage of a laboratory the pale boneless sterile fingers without craft give us an artificial cathode nerve replace my fantasy torture my body with your subliminal poison and analyze the rats reaction rolling in his toxic excrement your sterile wives lives of barren psychosis an egg travelling from vestigial ovary i can only sense your uterus with my insanity you wish to slash at your womb. you ask them to remove all fertility with their blades and poison that sacred birthing place a thin veil of plastic between your blood and my sensitivity inner ear having been deafened to the pleasure and terror travelling upon the sun's waves. feel the intricate brine of light crystallize upon your back. Ache you don't understand why i hated you , think your apologies are enough understand the illness i felt because you took my sex for granted think that words are enough and now, i, the fool return to you to correct the illness that you infected me with. and why weren't you willing to do this for me despite all of your admonitions of love ; i feel that it is because you finally feel your loneliness. i know that if i left you you would find someone else to occupy your sex so you could forget humanity and leach off them for a time. how much have you taken from me in the time you've known was it because you thought i was rich? even when i earned my money honestly more honestly than you ever bothered to, you still had no qualms about taking from me, as if you deserved it more than i, or as if i was no better than the capitalists that you so malevolently toy with with your sex. no ability to give and no ability to share properly. as your parting gesture you let me pick up the check as if it hadn't been a joint decision, as if you needed the money more than i. after you had lived in comfort and security the whole time and i had spent all of my money being with you and trying to please you after i had worn out my welcome with your friends after i had lived on the streets, after i had endured the jealousy of kabir (it was you who deserved that, not i) you try to make me feel as if i were cruel-i am not torturing you with my actions, betrayal, but with the truth if you cannot stand it, understand it. and it will have to end because you will have conceived the pain you have forged in my heart