From: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org (eda-thoughts-digest) To: eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Subject: eda-thoughts-digest V1 #159 Reply-To: eda-thoughts@smoe.org Sender: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Errors-To: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Precedence: bulk eda-thoughts-digest Sunday, August 30 1998 Volume 01 : Number 159 Today's Subjects: ----------------- ET: hi [moonsong@ix.netcom.com (Charlie, Cob & the GoA)] ET: attitude [Hotbod2472@aol.com] ET: poem!!!! [moonsong@ix.netcom.com (Charlie, Cob & the GoA)] ET: poems I didn't write [moonsong@ix.netcom.com (Charlie, Cob & the GoA)] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Sat, 29 Aug 1998 10:44:21 -0700 From: moonsong@ix.netcom.com (Charlie, Cob & the GoA) Subject: ET: hi Angulz, Damn. I have like all this inspiration for poems, and I'm writing...zilch. I dunno. Maybe I will later today. Course first priority (oh no!) is I have to write an article. Okay I don't ~have~ to but I'm ~going~ to. Now, tell me this angels. How do you write a funish-sounding article (it's about last weekend) that school teachers, parents with toddlers, parents of teens, teens and grandparents read? Eh? Tell me that. ~siiiigh~ But, yuh, I'm gunna write poems. I gotta. It's like, my release, dammit! The other day at my mom's doctor's waiting room was this woman, total Arizona cowgirl, tall, tight jeans, big blue and silver necklace, teased hair, enormous white plastic purse...I was like, geez lady, where are you coming from. Anyway. Seems there was something else too...dammit I forgot. In terms of "love life," *wicked laugh* there is none. Okay dokay penelopay, I'm gunna go do some things. Luv yaz, Sam the ? angel "You laugh, he said, you think you're immune, go look at your eyes, they're full of moon. You like roses and kisses and pretty men to tell you all those pretty lies" Joni Mitchell "She said - She said You are possessed with a power Bigger than the pain" - Everclear "Heartspark Dollarsign" moonsong@ix.netcom.com ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 29 Aug 1998 15:31:23 EDT From: Hotbod2472@aol.com Subject: ET: attitude This is my first post to the list....I've been reading the "spirited discussion" between Kevin and Seth and although I'm not exactly sure that this is relevant to that I thought I post it anyway. I think the key in life is to have a positive attitude in how you approach things thus the post that is about to follow: The longer I live the more I realize the impact I have on life. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successess, than what other people say or think or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness, or skill. The remarkable thing is--we have a choice every day of our lives regarding the attitude we embrace for that day. We cannot change our past. We cannot change the fct that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one strength that we have, and that is our attitude...I'm convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you. ~Charles Swindell~ Life is too short to worry about being "perfect". Simply give it your best and know that everyone is valuable in their own way. As long as you give it everything you have then you can't fail. Hope you liked the above poem. Theresa The Analytical Angel ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 29 Aug 1998 14:31:31 -0700 From: moonsong@ix.netcom.com (Charlie, Cob & the GoA) Subject: ET: poem!!!! Angulz, Okay okay, so it has influences. But hey! It's something! Luv yaz, Sam the ? angel The Earthworm sm August 29 1998 There once was a tiny earthworm Whose whole life was destiny He focused his little eyes ahead of him He knew where he was going He crawled across the warm brown dirt That so long had been his home They begged him not to go But still he set on out all alone He inched across the green grass blades That meanacingly sharpened and glared He passed along the trail of a silvery snail Who said he was the only worm that dared He smiled when the flies admired His courage under the crows & hawk They offered him a buzzing ride But he declined, determined not to stop He slowly climbed the tree trunk Gazing at the leafy boughs He dodged the glittering raindrops That angrily told him to give up now Over the round smooth surfaces Of dangling pinecones Through the long ant trails That mocked his journeying alone No, the inchworm kept straight on Towards his green paradise up high Over notches in the wood And rivers streaming with gentle sighs Creeping past sleeping nests of robins That made his little heart thump and shake Looking toward the vastness of stars and sky The shining sun assured it was not a mistake Till finally he reached the end Where no earthworm had been And then he realized in his realm He was here without a friend He swung on wild wind tree tops So limitless and so free He floated in the breeze and settled down Where no other earthworm was to be moonsong@ix.netcom.com ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 29 Aug 1998 14:31:27 -0700 From: moonsong@ix.netcom.com (Charlie, Cob & the GoA) Subject: ET: poems I didn't write Heya, DAT ARTICLE IS DONE! FINISHED! VOILA! But, alas, *siiigh* now comes the editing. Dammit. Anyway, I was looking through Shel Silverstein's book Where The Sidewalk Ends, and I realized he doesn't only write silly (loveable fantastic) rhymes for kids. He also wrote a beautiful, sad book called "The Giving Tree"--"Once there was a tree...and she loved a little boy." So, about the poems. Here are 2 that I really love. Sam the ? angel - - - - - - Where The Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go, To the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends. - - - - Snowman by Shel Silverstein 'Twas the first day of springtime, And the snowman stood alone As the winter snows were melting, And the pine trees seemed to groan, "Ah, you poor and smiling snowman, You'll be melting by and by." Said the snowman, "What a pity, For I'd like to see July. Yes, I'd like to see July, and please don't ask me why. But I'd like to, yes I'd like to, oh I'd like to see July." Chirped a robin, just arriving, "Seasons come and seasons go, And the greatest ice must crumble When it's flowers' time to grow. And as one thing is beginning So another thing must die, And there's never been a snowman Who has ever seen July. No, they never see July, no matter how hard they try. No, they never ever, never ever, never see July." But the snowman stiffed his carrot nose And said, "At least I'll try," And he bravely smiled his frosty smile And blinked his coal-black eye. And there he stood and faced the sun A blazin' from the sky- And I really cannot tell you If he ever saw July. Did he ever see July? You can guess as well as I If he ever, if he never, if he ever saw July. moonsong@ix.netcom.com ------------------------------ End of eda-thoughts-digest V1 #159 **********************************