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.
-Glennmhauck@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