From: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org (eda-thoughts-digest) To: eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Subject: eda-thoughts-digest V1 #305 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 Thursday, December 3 1998 Volume 01 : Number 305 * If you ever wish to unsubscribe, send an email to * eda-thoughts-digest-request@smoe.org with ONLY * the word unsubscribe in the body of the email * . * PLEASE :) when you reply to this digest to send a post TO the list, * change the subject to reflect what your post is about. A subject * of Re: eda-thoughts-digest V1 #xxx or the like gives readers no clue * as to what your message is about. Today's Subjects: ----------------- ET: Insightful musings?/Verble dribble?-You Decide! [ABershaw@aol.com] ET: poetry [Summer Burton ] ET: More Poems by Summer... [Summer Burton ] ET: s'more poems [Naomi Vaughn ] ET: A bit of poetry [Oblivia15@aol.com] ET: Poem [mandabear4@juno.com (Mandabear four)] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Thu, 3 Dec 1998 01:02:06 EST From: ABershaw@aol.com Subject: ET: Insightful musings?/Verble dribble?-You Decide! Hi all, I won't do this very often, but since many of you have asked me to, I'll take some time to simply state a few perceptions I have, instead of being my usual "MrBB" self. My apologies if any "Jewel-news" subscribers feel this is innapropriately posted there, but I wanted to relay this to all Jewel list subscribers & you can feel free to delete if you don't care to read a totally opinionated post or to know me better. With more cynical (& often funny, I admit!) & more "flat out mean spirited" articles in the press being written about Jewel & The EDAs lately, something interesting has been happening to the types of emails I've been getting of late. I've recieved quite a few very sincere private emails from EDAs asking me how I feel about "Jewelbashing people" & mean-spirited articles, etc. They are sometimes upset when Jewel or the EDAs get trashed in the media & ask me how I manage to stay so uneffected by it. I also have many friends who are longtime music biz vets & many of them have noted that I've changed: become less cynical & overtly positive in the past few years. Some even miss my comically cynical side, which is alive & well I assure you, but not so prominent these days. They've noticed these changes have coincided with my involvement in the development of the EDA community over the past few years. I've invited many non-EDA friends to scan through the never ending flow of email messages that the EDAs post to each other on these discussion lists & I've noticed the more cynical ones are always the ones more annoyed or sceptical of it all. This reaction is often triggered by the more flowery sentiments which are usually well intentioned, ie, sending out positive energy, EDA gatherings, thoughts of group hugs & especially the spiritually inspired posting in the wake of Jewel's most recent release "Spirit". Many of these sentiments are exactly the type of thing I too would've gagged on a few years ago & many of my more cynical friends & the media (& some EDAs) find so questionable now. Having personally met hundreds of you at shows & events over the past few years, one of the things I definitely recognize about The EDAs (& Jewel's fanbase in general), is that for many, myself included, this radically anti-cynical approach to life is not just a shared disposition but also an act of conscious dissent. It's a protest against the anger & thoughtlessness that charachterizes so much of our social & artistic temperment these days. Many people will continue to percieve the EDAs as naive, but I'm convinced their vision of community IS a desirable thing. Thus my dedication to the EDAs & my unending support of The Living Room Tour, The EDAFoundation, group volunteering & anything that gets you away from your computers & meeting each other for real. That's where the difference occurs. To many of Jewel's fans, especially the younger ones who never experienced the 60's, Jewel is virtually unique in post-Vietnam War musical history: a female musician & songwriter who is functioning as an ongoing, binding central point in a large scale fan scene that is viewing her music as reflecting their own vision of a better, more hopeful & open minded society. There's far worse visions out there. I'd sooner question the motives of those writers bashing The EDAs for refusing dissillusionment or bashing Jewel over her current lyric content & poetry, than the motives of those who "get it". All the best, Alan ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 03 Dec 1998 00:37:00 -0600 From: Summer Burton Subject: ET: poetry First of all, Sam, I need to write you, but I just wanted to tell you that your stuff to the list has been really incredible... I hope you don't get discoraged by what seems to be a relative quiet on the list and stop sending, because I treasure it all... Secondly, on that note, my stuff... Oh, and Sam I guess this answers your question about how it's going with him... Everyone else, you get to find out too... The boy I "like"... According to his sister he likes "me and sarah" best (not in a crush way, just generally). And since *no one* but me ever talks to him, sarah included (even if I was to list the other people that do talk to him minorly every once in awhile, sarah wouldn't be at the top of that list. she's too shy) and since he stares at her all time, what that means is.. I'm the friend, agian. And it'll prolly work ofor awhile between them, cause she likes him. Of course, they have nothing in common. Of course, he and I have tons. Of course, of course, of course. This is far too much like every other crush I have. A few months from now he'll be the same as Chris, Brian, J... every other great guy friend of mine here, who I liked and who is crushing or dating someone else while they tell me everything. He's a good friend, though.. This poem is the part of me that's mad about it, but I'm actually doing okay: JOSH you're still fresh to this world of me and of freedom and I still am surprised by then newness of your eyes but I'm already weary and tired of you I'm tired of figuring you out I'm tired of realizing what you're about Since we get along so well, I'm already your best friend here but you're just like the rest of the world when you stare at some other girl I'm tired of trying to figure you out I'm tired of how irrational it is for you not to love me I'm tired of beautiful eyes that do not see me I'm thinking about you too much I'm dwelling on those eyes Especially when I know you'll hurt someday and that you are really just the same. - -Summer - -- "I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that." - -Lloyd Dobler, Say Anything ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 03 Dec 1998 06:25:37 -0600 From: Summer Burton Subject: ET: More Poems by Summer... I wrote this the other day after I practically had a hormonal nervous breakdown and sobbed to my mom incoherent stuf she repeated back to me later for poetic purposes..And I wrote.. this poemthing... it's now in an edited version on my website, but I'm gonna give you all the messed up version from that day... Keep in mind that I had just been really upset, and I don't even believe a lot of this stuff now.. But it's something that's been sitting on my computer, that I've been wanting to get out. And I can't do it on my website, not with the real-tears version cause too many of the specific mentions visit my site... And I'm explianing too much. I just didn't want anybody, especially my deardarlinglight Samara, to think cause of this poem thay I'm certifiable or anything. Anyway, here: I am shaken by the sadness I am shaken by the death in everyone's hugs I am shaken by the sickness I had never noticed before lurking behind every picture it's on everybody's door - when i was a little girl - 13, i mean - I cried every night because - Jonathan Taylor Thomas - wrote me a generic postcard - instead of telling my he - loved me too I am crying for the smiles that are so fake and innocent I am crying for the lies the broken, twisted compliments - my old friend - who used to play with - puppy surprise - i saw her boyfriend - grab her boob - today - and she laughed - even though I was sitting - right there Why are all my friends so hurt? Why do they cry? They stay up late over stupid boys There's pain somewhere inside - the old crush - the one i got sick for - the night i found out - about the "other" girl - he - once told me - he likes girls from Westlake because - they don't know about "no" and hey you, You're a boy and boys are hurting me they're hurting every girl I know you're a boy and I hate you but oh I love you so you asshole. - my supposed best friend - gets hit by her ex-boyfriends - and now she's reading "Girl" - and it's inspired her - to offer herself - to the latest - object of her affections When did the sadness come? Are you the one to blame? I know you are, don't lie none of the girls are the same since they discovered you and your "beautiful" eyes you and your grotesque lies - the prettiest person i know - crys every night - she's "liked" the same boy - for almost five straight years... - he once said - "i'd rather kiss a skunk" When did the sadness come? Why is it everywhere I look? Why are all my pretty girls crying? What is it that all the boys took? And a less psychotic one: No Pandas Or Cold Days I miss having seasons where the leaves fall in autumn and it's snowing today... I wish was there tonight curled up with a blanket handwriting by firelight I actually miss the place I miss the snow I hated it so much now I want to see the animals in wintertime at the only zoo I ever loved I wish that during that time I had stopped more often to pick a flower in spring, to bask in summer's light to roll in piles of leaves in autumn or build snowmen on some cold winter night but I was fixated on home, where it's always hot and sticky where my friends played and where there are no elephants or pandas or cold days - -Summer http://www.bga.com/~melissab - -- "And everytime she sneezes I believe it's love and Oh Lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing" - -Adam Duritz ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 03 Dec 1998 13:32:19 -0600 From: Naomi Vaughn Subject: ET: s'more poems heya angels ~ how’s everyone? stressing over chistmas yet? ;) hehe...i’m flat broke and have not a clue what i’m gonna do for presents. oh well...it’ll all work out i’m sure. and this retched cough won’t go away. it’s bugging the hell out of me...and I can’t sing at all because of it. ugh. well now, heh, i’m awfully chatty this afternoon...sorry. ;) here’s some poems from yesterday and today. I’m not sure what I think of them yet. They just are what they are...and I suppose that’s enough right now. comments and all that related "stuff" is appreciated, as always. take care, smile, and hum a merry song...hehe... always and ever, Naomi the unknown "okie" stardust dreaming angel - -- new life And I’ll make a tender love, an unknowning love, masked by night to lock out all else. And I’ll create a new world of us, me and you, the full moon shining upon us as open vessels. And in this we are joined, merged, connected, as one. 2:00pm/2dec98 - -- the office metallic curls sprouting upward from clear cut glass. a black leather armchair stands out against the art deco-ish green paint. I empty the metal wire trash bin and take in the many psychology books, pausing for a moment at the african art displayed about the office, it just makes me uneasy So I sing something to distract myself as the humming of the vaccuum stops I turn out the light, and can finally go home. 9:04pm/2dec98 - -- Cinderella it was a tease nothing but a ploy she’s chocolate on his chin, an untied shoe. perfect and upstanding in his fresh pressed pleated suits shining smile, clean shaven with an air to kill for then the misfit comes in her tattered "formal gown" smiling hopefully through cooked teeth he shakes his head, grabs his briefcase, and heads out the door as she sits on the steps, and cries. 9:15pm/2dec98 - -- the tear I cried a tear that fell in a puddle that then flowed down a drain and into a river it found itself onto a tiny birds feather that bird then took it to the sea it jumped and fell, from the wing into and against the waves till it hit the opposite shores, and found you. 9:22pm/2dec98 - -- true unwind me of the morning, tender limbs coated thick with sleep. lay me gently in bed of love, run a single fingertip down the length of my arm making each hair rise from it’s rest. you cradle me near, my head on your shoulder, arms around me, and hands on the small of my back. you show me love in whispered words of warmth and endless deep kisses that take away my breath now this, is true happiness. 1:09am/3dec98 - -- Coyote A silver howl echoes from the moon along the tops of the trees and mountains so high a coyote runs racing faster and faster to catch the moonbeams striking down, upon the earth his mysterious smile glows from within the darkness that coyote carries me above reason and stability allows me to be reckless and wild! so alive with the night, so intensley living in that moment, I could howl at the moon. 1:31am/3dec98 - -- lost and found a quarter salesman on the corner auctioning off souls from a box marked "lost and found" a limp gipsy soul is given new life as a frail women picks it from the box with thin bony fingers I chose a spirit resting, untouched, in the corner. it held energy and life, strength and bravery, light and love; I’d finally found myself. 12:23pm/3dec98 - --- "I want to live bravely and love without fear I want always to feel the wings of grace near" ~Jewel hp - http://www.angelfire.com/ok/naomisplace/index.html uin# 10320204 aim - kilumdra irc dalnet - kilumdra ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 3 Dec 1998 17:37:09 EST From: Oblivia15@aol.com Subject: ET: A bit of poetry Hi guys, Well..... I've written a few more.... There's not much. The first one was written, when I was in kind of a "Hands" mood..... The third one was written today (prematurely I think, as my boyfriend was being a complete noid today.) And the last two are short little phrases (or something) that came to me today. I shall not fall upon my words when others' are stronger. Or quicken my pace when the road become longer. I won't make amends to initiate silence. Or fuel my heart with hatred and violence. I am not that way. I have my reasons. And all that you say can never change me. I shall not harvest what is not mine But I'll plant for those in need. And I'll swallow thistled words and force back the greed. I won't stay silent when someone needs a voice. Or open my mouth just to add to the noise. I am not that way. Don't try to make me bend. All that you say can never change me. When it all falls down I'll know my place. And I'll never budge. I'm not that way. And when darkness falls upon the land In my place I will bravely stand. The clutches of greed may brush my skin. But I'll swallow my doubt and I won't let it in. And despite all the things that you will say, I won't change for you. I'm not that way. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Forms are sliced behind her eyes as she mentally shreds the past. Their faces fall apart under her careless fingertips, their eyes gazing at her accusingly. "You Left," they say. And she did. Ran and ran and ran from every one of them And fell directly into the arms of another one. And he didn't judge her by her dirty hands or what she'd done. He looked into her eyes that silently screamed for understanding. So he tried. And it was enough. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Those things that cannot be lost are never loved like those that run the risk of disappearing forever. ~ JV ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ So Many Nights So many nights I cry for what is lost. And so many mornings you kiss me to smiles and remind me of what I have found.-JV ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There........ Hope you liked them.. Feedback is more than welcome... Love Always, Jackie ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 3 Dec 1998 18:47:46 -0500 From: mandabear4@juno.com (Mandabear four) Subject: ET: Poem Angels and other friends, Tell me what you think of this. Criticisms and comments are both welcomed. Kristin, what do you think about me submitting this to Art & Noise? ~ Better Left Unsaid~ You know, I know about you. I see how you've changed. You went from being this innocent boy And well, now you're not so innocent any more. You openly tell me things I don't want to hear. What would make you think I cared about your dates with her? You are my best friend but some things are better left unsaid. Do I need to know every time you "misbehave"? I love you both because you've touched my life in so many ways. It's hard to sit and hear about the times you've shared together, Knowing it could have been me. I am always here to lend a sympathetic ear, you know that, But some things are better left unsaid. (12/3/98) ________________________________________________________________ Get secure free e-mail that you don't need Web access to use from Juno, the world's second largest online service. Download your free software at http://www.juno.com/getit.b.html. ------------------------------ End of eda-thoughts-digest V1 #305 **********************************