From: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org (eda-thoughts-digest) To: eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Subject: eda-thoughts-digest V2 #71 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 Tuesday, March 16 1999 Volume 02 : Number 071 * 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 V2 #xxx or the like gives readers no clue * as to what your message is about. Today's Subjects: ----------------- ET: hi guys =) [Angeljlr98@aol.com] ET: [Fwd: Re: The Future of The EDAs- PLEASE read this] [Jesse Houwing <] ET: poems.. [Naomi Vaughn ] ET: this is the thoughts list right? yeah!! [CLEARVVATR@aol.com] ET: some-4-thee [Miles and Prystowsky ] ET: ahh [Miles and Prystowsky ] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Mon, 15 Mar 1999 02:13:40 EST From: Angeljlr98@aol.com Subject: ET: hi guys =) I feel horrible that I haven't written in response to anything that's happened in the past week...it's all due to me just not having enough time. HOWEVER I did want to add that I cursed a lot when I read the email that the list was being shut down, and I was mighty relieved (I somehow managed to forget how to spell relieved...so if it's wrong, sue me =)) to find out a day later that it wasn't. Mind you, I would've put up quite a good fight to keep it up, but I had faith that you guys wouldn't let it die anyway...so I guess I just wanted to tell you guys that I appreciate you (now that you may have been taken away from me) and I love you =) Take care! Love, Jamie ~You are all that I am~ Tara Maclean ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 15 Mar 1999 16:15:06 +0100 From: Jesse Houwing Subject: ET: [Fwd: Re: The Future of The EDAs- PLEASE read this] Dear Alan, Mike and other EDA's, I'm one of the more recent subscribers to this list, I joined in 1997 right after Foolish games took a flight to the top of the Dutch charts. By then there was a lot of mails coming through the list with just SJC (some jewel content) or NJC (No Jewel Content) and I loved most of them, people telling about their lives, their problems, asking for help and also a lot of info about other artists and Jewel gatherings. Then the EDA-thoughts list was founded... I imidiately joined and read every single poem.... not that I posted often, but loved most of the stuff I received in my mailbox... I might be one of the few people who has joined almost every EDA list, but it becomes more and more differcult to post the replies a to the right list... that is mostly bause I filter every message from *@smoe.org to one folder, but that is because all these messages are related, and when something is going on on one list you often hear little additions on others so this makes it easier to get all the info. Having said all of this I can only agree with what Alan said... and I always welcomed his information on other artists and events... And I've mailed him about it more than once. Even discussed some stuff with him privately, and I must say thet I must praise his devotion to the list too, even though it is less than it used to be, but now most of the info can be found on the Jewel webpage on which he also does a great job. I'd like to end this message by thanking both Mike and Alan for their time and help. This wouldn't be possible without you guys.... And I sincerely hope that someone will be able to help you if it is neccesairy... I for one would really like to help anywhere I can. Jesse Houwing The Always Busy Angel Jesse Howuing - -- ICQ #12001754 Jewel - foolish games: http://home.student.utwente.nl/j.houwing/ - --------------------------------------------------- I went to the woods because i wanted to live deliberately I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, To put to rout all that was not life, And not when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived. -- Dead Poets Society - --------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Date: 15 Mar 99 13:43:47 CST From: Naomi Vaughn Subject: ET: poems.. well angels...here's some poems. i was up lastnight writing till after 2...and i'm fairly pleased with most of what came out. progress. :) i've got a nice stack of posts I want to reply to...but, knowing me, half of them won't happen. i'm s*rry. alright, I gotta get outta here...later love y'all, Naomi the unknown fumbling "okie" angel p.s. oh yeah, and, of course, comments and all that are mucho appreciated.. :) - -- (this was just my frustrated little venting experience. tried looking from another angle...kinda distorted things to gain some perspective. what can i say, it worked...so, that's all that matters, right? ;) silly girl and I love you because you're so sweet and you're so good and if I kick dirt on you well you simply dust it off, and ask me, why and if I turn my back, refusing to speak you patiently wait, never leaving my side no matter how much I hurt you or how hard I push you away, you never give in and leave me so i see something i need in this unwavering soul I see someone who will be there through my shit and my sweet and still be waiting, with open arms honey, I love you because I can turn to you and you're so easy to talk to and you're so easy... I know you love me I know how much you care sometimes I see some life I see you looking towards the door and in that flickering moment of fire, after you look me in the eye, and before you think of going I see something, I might truly love but, that ember's smothered when you become what I need, turning your eyes from escape sometimes you just lay there watching me, breathing slowly I think you're trying to see me my walls are high, but, you somehow see past them and even as you smile at my words I know you know more you know I know more but neither of us will say a word and you nod as I speak of passion smile softly as I lean in, and tell you how much I need you, want you but, though you show pleasure I see something in your eyes that lets me know, somewhere down deep there's something you're needing too and when I see that hurt in you my chest tightens, and for a moment I wish that I could love you that way, that I could be what you're needing and I could, you make it so easy all you really want is my love I tell you it's yours, but you know they're only words, not the true thing my heart is tied up, in my own hunger my own unspoken self-confusion so you kiss me sweet, and pause a moment look me deep in the eyes, holding my soul and you tell me how much you love me I smile, and pull you near, whisper an "I love you too" then you walk away, a mask of satisfaction, that same pain lingering behind your eyes, your surface I shrug it off, and manage a chuckle, such a silly silly girl. 2feb99 - -- little lamb pretty little girl tied down with neat red bows others intent so deeply woven into her she thinks it's her own will and even when she finally she discovers her deception she still maintains, her previous roll she's gone so long with her mind full of everyone else's want that she doesn't know any other way, doesn't know how to be herself, doesn't know who she is and so, she stays the same. 15mar99 - -- blessings sweet child weep not for the loss of your favorite toy other's will come and go instead find joy in the permanence of something inmaterial Rainy days, starry nights, sunny afternoons, cool lakes let your mother earth dry those tears and rejoice in all you've been given 12:17am/15mar99 - -- 3am a tired hand rubs clockwise a baby's back, the old rocking chair creaking with each rock, a sleepy voice sings a lullaby, the baby closes her eyes 15mar99 - -- for faith babygirl, those stars in the sky, they're all yours/ they'll be there always, even when i can't be/ so when you feel alone, when you're afraid/ you just look up, and remember, that I love you. 15mar99 - -- bella ragazza butterflies and paper flowers decorate her dress she's so proud of that dress it's the prettiest most happy thing she owns and when she wears that dress she feels beautiful no matter that her face is dirty, her hair messy, hands worn, feet bare and bruised in her butterfly & paper flower dress she is a princess. 12:37am/15mar99 - -- wise youth the dirty beauty in her robe of rags smiles through crooked teeth her mother asks her why she smiles the little girl tells her, because she is happy her mother asks what she has to be happy about "lots of things, mama, " the tiny child says, "I can dream purple unicorns, I can feel the breeze & the warm sun. there's the sweetest smelling flowers, and, mama, I'm happy, because I think I must be one of the luckiest girls in the world - I can hear the stars sing." 12:44am/15mar99 - -- Mother Sometimes I look in the mirror and I see my mother... I don't like it much I don't like sounding like her, and smelling like her, when i'm trying so hard, not to be her she's unhappy & discontent in weak moments, she says her life is not her own...and never will be again --- she's angry alot...I think she regrets too. I put on make-up, cut my hair, wear perfume, and sing... I make myself into someone she's not ... but it's still her everwhere I run to for escape, she's already been. 1:25am/15mar99 - -- Doll (Jack-in-a-Box) I place you up on my shelf bring you down when I need some forgiveness then return you to your ledge I go to you when I need someone to tell me it'll be okay someone to give me love but, always, I return you to your dusty home you never complain, and show me nothing but sweetness, when I come you're holding on to my promise, that someday, I'll take you down from there, for good a promise, i've long since, forgotten. 1:48am/15mar99 ____________________________________________________________________ More than just email--Get your FREE Netscape WebMail account today at http://home.netscape.com/netcenter/mail ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 15 Mar 1999 19:45:59 EST From: CLEARVVATR@aol.com Subject: ET: this is the thoughts list right? yeah!! this is from my buddy tiff...she wants to give you guys a break from all of your trials 'n' tribulations...woo hoo...let loose!! (soon to be read on the dysfunctional poetry tour by jen, tiff, and gang...) I came onto this list about a year ago I heard about this chick name jewel who's life was kinda low in her tooth she had a space but they told me she had a pretty face so i bought the cd pieces of you i heard about a fag a bitch and a jew and it was all really touching stuff i knew that it was quality music not just junk then i went to Mtv where i met the folk-rock queen she was dressed nice and had a big mouth but in our opinon she was a sellout and thats when the list came all i heard were whines and complains about this chick who was a flirt but hey we all did love that skirt so lets forget the bickering before i start to dry heave hey we might've lost jewel but we'll always have steve ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 15 Mar 1999 19:07:44 -0800 From: Miles and Prystowsky Subject: ET: some-4-thee hi, well i went on kind of a nice string of writing a few minutes ago, i just wrote whatever i felt/thought of...but first, some from another night. heheh. by the way, i was looking back (i finished cleaning out!) over old digests...lots of good stuff everyone! I don't love you I only love the way you dance I don't love you I only love the way you laugh I don't love you I only love the way you kiss I don't love you I only love how you hold me... no no, I don't love you, Love you... - - - - Thorny, the way I love and the way I dream, and the way I am blocked. Like a rush of creativity stilled by pen and paper. Dancing=== ===energy life=== ===emotions, and all of it swells up to the tip of my tongue, waiting to be exhaled. But, it doesn't. I sing, my soul reaches down, in me, grabs up my voice. Move it with my feet as they dance, without limits, soar it in the energy I burst into, feel it while my hands play music and my fingers write poems. Taste the words, thrill the exuberance. Sail with me as I bound over oceans, as I cast the sunrise. See all there is to see. Be everything. Love everything. All of life I lust to express, every detail on this world. Each ecstatic moment spent dancing or singing or throwing myself into the joy & the pain; all the desire, it is thorny. When I cannot get just right how much I adore it. 3.12.99 - sm - - - - Memoir of a Tragic Widow one day gone, and yet I miss you. only this long, and I can't see the sky. one day passed, and the ground evaporates. this day lasts, it can't go on. 3.12.99 - - - - a fairy & a pen grab the girl from wet pavement & take her away - - - - just one glance, and you are free, to bound off on the bright slopes of that mountain. How much I wanted to see you. A brief hug, and goodbye, gone. I miss your starry eyes. You led me across the rain soaked meadow, that night could have been eternity in my soul. Your arms were so big, so warm, the air so perfectly wet. And your hair, I can only see your hair. The sweetly bitter smell from the blackberry bushes. And you led me along that bridge, I followed you, I traced your light. I don't know how you disappeared. I only know you vanished. And the daydream of a kiss is solely what I have left. The days turn into a day-by-day pattern, I cannot pick up the phone. No, I hardly think you'd treasure what I do. And if you did, would I ever know? No, probably not. So I only write poems about your existence. 3.12.99 -sm I'll give you a break before the ones from today. :) love- Sam the ? angel ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 15 Mar 1999 19:22:51 -0800 From: Miles and Prystowsky Subject: ET: ahh angels, here.... from yesterday: herbs, & a dash of springtime petals. make this potion true. oils and fire and tea leaves and moonlight. carry my dreams to the stars. Red, blue, yellow pieces of glass up out of my hands, into the sky to become real. Sand, and driftwood, float down a river and succomb to the amazon. the silks and colors adorn bodies like kites caught on branches. In the smooth rocker, lull me to sleep, and bring my sleepy soul the comfort of living. 3.14.99 - sm - - - - neon nails. Yet, cargo pants. Her lips flash friendship. she pulses. 3.14.99 - - - - azul sky. so blue it's nearly violet. Donovan mellowing in yellow and a basket shooting out pink stalks, brick carnations, banana sunbursts. lamps to glow in the oncoming eve, peanut butter jar beside the John Grisham novel, magenta fingernails cut short for the guitar grooving along beside a leaping fireplace, strumming to springtime. 3.15.99 - - - - superman took his Purple cd and proposed to olive in the oily stickiness of florida sands whiter than salt in the teal carribean - - - - Love, for some reason, we believe is confined in age, in sex, in kind. But relax. Let it be a blur. Plant a tree Give a 25 cent ring. Enjoy your passion. Why have limits? Sure, the mind does, but my heart is endless. 3.15.99 - - - - Parsley tea and bongo drums in the green shade of a tantalizing tree floral blankets spread with summer condiments dancing under snowy pink garlands - - - - give to me springs of baby's breath to let free another bud - - - - "they called us hippies, but we merely wanted color, not war. and to string innocence like slells on a necklace. to smell flowers and be comfortable. how remarkable." 3.15.99 - - - - Juniper drank milk her yellow lacey star studded tiara glinting off the cast shower of meteorites - - - - sitting thoughtful gray zyprexa pen look - in the mirror! reflection, dirty blonde & red. the Beatles yesterday, & a fiddle's whine. Now, jump rope to the pulse of my blood & life and breath - - - - Star work, the bagel depot. with her red hair, night shift, she just knows some of them have to be aspiring artists. - - - - electric apple, glowing green leaf. sleepy dog in lazy sunshine. - - - - what spot exactly did the X in the sky mark? as far as I can tell, I'd rather not wonder. I'll move to this big band drum instead. let it fuzz out and drift away. - - - - oh my, he lost a fake diamond off of that plastic leather jacket, that flows like tar on his back. his hair flies in disbelief - - - - saffron juice, tupperware cup, comfy warm couch, Bird Anthology Book- protein powder, and cool blue jeans. He had a collection of Joni in his car. He liked lotion. - - - - cream vanilla candle. Red shirt, overalls. Spelling dic-tion-ar-y in the shower, she spent her paycheck on gum that turns her tongue green. - - - - "Harry" St. Louis, Missouri and a drawling accent, loud. Only ever heard the voice, but I could see his brown wrinkled skin, canvas hat, twinkling grin. and passed, gone with the gentlest of summer winds. - - - - by flashlight I drank in the venom and the droplets of page after page - - - - he does magic tricks and doesn't realize the magic lies in his flickering overflowing eyes. - - - - all on 3.15.99 by sm yep they're weird. so am i, i think, i hope. with pleasure. :) love sam the ? angel ------------------------------ End of eda-thoughts-digest V2 #71 *********************************