From: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org (eda-thoughts-digest) To: eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Subject: eda-thoughts-digest V2 #357 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 Wednesday, December 15 1999 Volume 02 : Number 357 * 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: ~ resort in my haven&heaven is part of you ~ ["marty" ] ET: Last call for EDA Music Awards 2000 nominations! ["Dr. RomeAntic" Subject: ET: ~ resort in my haven&heaven is part of you ~ ¤ i kiss/your nightmares/good bye/your lips/sweet/night is when/my body/squeezes for/another/and all/of you more/than imaginary/warm/wrapped together/closed like an envelope/licked/locked/secured/in each other dreaming/takes me/there/you know/where/exactly ¤ baby/your feet/in bed/under/covers/i have/felt yesh/haven/could be/like heaven/what does th/e stand for/i stand/for you/steady/i rock/she says and smiles/i keep/smiling/rocking/dancing/you turn on/the cassette/you push/play/and then/you rewind/once more/baby/please/know that/you are safe/around/with/in/me ¤ so cold/in here these words/release/a tear desire/to be/place else/now but not/anywhere/just/with you the room/inside/your heart with a/porcelain/stove/bottle of wine/red/blanket ¤ would they/be/angry if/i/thought of/joining/you then there'll/be/flowers/and huggers/i know and/karessing you/what can/i do/unless/follow my love/you/*/my home/resort/in me/¤/you do already/mean everything/to someone/to me. ¤ ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 15 Dec 1999 14:53:23 +0100 From: "Dr. RomeAntic" Subject: ET: Last call for EDA Music Awards 2000 nominations! Since it looks like many of you waited for the last day I'm gonna extend the deadline for one more day and that's it! So all nominations sent to me by Friday 0:01am will still be accepted... and Friday evening part 2 will be announced! No more waiting... do it now and join dozens of others who did it before you! - -- Have fun and stay beautiful Dr. RomeAntic, an angel with the worst stroke of luck and a flash of silver lining Kids say the darnedest things: "Beethoven wrote music even though he was deaf. He was so deaf he wrote loud music. He took long walks in the forest even when everyone was calling him. I guess he could not hear so good. Beethoven expired in 1827 and later died from this." Catch Dr. RomeAntic's outdated cyber image @ http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Metro/2009 ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 15 Dec 1999 09:42:47 -0800 From: "C. C. & S." Subject: ET: this phoenix rises up from the ground hello my loves! it's been awhile since i wrote anything here, and i'm afraid you've all long forgotten my existence. but alas, doc has brought me back up into this crazy realm and so here i am!! aoooooa!! since it's been ages since i sent anything, i thought i'd curse you all with a few things. like, a few short stories (but they're good! or, sort of), and a few poems, and a few songs. and doc can you send the info on the music awards thing, cause i don't have it. *** Lights Lights reflected off the black still lake in wavering flashes. Lights from the far off flickering stars; lights from the Italian restaurant on the white porch overlooking the lake, whose scents of garlic bread and tomatoes drifted over the water; lights from the streetlamps on the cobblestone street, still glimmering from an early rain; lights from the long, flat wooden stage that drifted so far over the vast lake that it seemed it was not there at all. A stage where twirling skirts billowed out between the quickly turning legs of guys and music skipped out in a brushlike rhythm, filling the air with jazzy tunes. In the restaurant, women in long black gowns with their smooth hair up in french twists and sleek necks displaying thin strands of pearls or topaz, swayed in the arms of men with disco-style ties, purposely mussed hair, and warm eyes seeping with the aroma of their lady's faint decadent perfume. Out on the stage, boys and girls—no, chicks and guys—skipped, jumped, tapped and flew nearly off the vanished deck as they swing danced and lindy hopped and Charlestoned and laughed and fell breathlessly against each other. Fireworks darted and exploded in that air, drifted out over the lake, and mingled with the floating serene white lights of the yellow-windowed restaurant. A waiter in a white jacket holding a flower stem leaned for a moment over the balcony, gazing across the lake. A barely visible smudge of red could still be traced in the corner of his mouth. It lay, a faint smear, like a playful tease on his face. A girl on the stage, wearing a purple square-necked dress, her face glittering and her eyes laughing, blew a kiss at him across the water, glowing. A smile flashed across his lips and his face grew warm as he jerked out of his daydream. Then he returned to the restaurant. The girl skipped over to the band and sang along in a dreamy jazzy voice that floated away to the restaurant. She watched a couple immersed in each other's arms, sparks flashing fiery chemicals between them; the boy, quite a bit taller, leaning into the girl, his blonde hair falling over his face and mingling with her brown-and-orange streaks. Around her neck, a star flashed from what seemed out of nowhere. They were silhouetted against a round yellow swinging moon. The violet-dressed girl touched a similar star that hung suspended around her own throat, and smiled again as she glanced at the restaurant across the water, and then took the outstretched hand of a guy wearing suspenders and quick, talented feet. Later that night, on a bed scattered with the remains of dried flowers, Jordan lay with his arm fitting snugly around the shoulders of the violet-dressed girl. He was wearing a loose half unbuttoned checkered shirt in place of his white jacket. He gazed at nowhere in particular, sleepily thinking about how lucky he was. Fairy, as he liked to call her, lay curled perfectly against him, twisting her hair in her sparkling pale painted nails and humming quietly. She smelled of heat and sweat and nighttime air, a sweet lavender mist and a serene ecstasy whose scent was impossible to describe. He smelled of garlic and onions and lingerings of gentlemen's cologne, and flickering candles. Wrapped in a cocoon at the other end of the bed was the couple from the dance floor. Chris's blonde hair was again mingling with the tresses of his beautiful Skye. They lay under a cloud of bliss that always hung around them like a transparent bubble. The four had known each other for as long as any of them could remember, and would remain together for as long as anything ever continued. None knew how they had met; all they knew of were flickers and sparks. Dancing under the bewitched blanketed night sky glittering with stars; walking along the dock of the ocean in the early morning, the light yellow streaks echoing the yellow laughter, contentment and paints that streamed through Fairy's body, flowed from her fingertips and erupted from her eyes and mouth like sweet volcanic candy. They remembered food fights at elegant reception parties, and polite dinners at Rubio's or Wahoo's. Fragments, full continuing days, lingering close velvety nights. They lay together, Fairy's head nestled into Jordan's arm, Skye's arms and legs melting into Chris's chest and legs; the pale white lights that ran along the walls and ceiling danced and twinkled and glowed; glittery wings, dried flowers, silver tin stars, blue ink soaked sunstars, twists of candy and candles, and music filled the room. Black and white photos exposing the beauty that only closeness can discover covered the walls; color collages of more pictures also danced across the ceiling. Pictures of the four with arms outstretched, as if the wind or the motionless moving air in the room would take them away; pictures at the sea; pictures in New York; pictures surrounded by redwoods.... A large radiant picture of Jordan hung on the wall that Fairy particularly took pleasure in. In it he was sprawled on the sparkling white sand that flowed like an ocean across the beach. His hair was sandy-colored from the summer's sun; his eyes smiled and a smile played easily around his lips. Fairy had taken the picture, which was of course why he was smiling so; a glow of love shined from his eyes that were shadowed by the fall of his hair. His eyes were already startlingly pale green and enough to wipe the breath out of anyone; they darted and shone from his tan,-then pale,-then tan face like two misplaced beams from a beautiful star. He wore a dark gauzy-silk blood-purple shirt, kind of like the glam rock from the 80s shirts that guys wore: almost feminine, with bell sleeves that draped from his slender body. Fairy loved that picture. It showed how perfect and beautiful and dreamy her Romeo was to her. They had endless memories and countless turns, beginnings, falterings and smooth-runnings. Chris often caught looks from girls on the street with his straw-blonde hair and greek chiseled body; but he never even glanced their way. His fingers fastened like silver locks through Skye's fingers and his arms wanted none other than hers. There was the time that they were flying kites, and Skye almost flew away into the sky she seemed to have come from. Her strong vibrant green wings giddily jumped into the gusts and flapped against her delicate skin; her blue eyes turned a pulsing orange fire; and if Chris hadn't been watching her—though he had never, ever taken his eyes off her—and jumped and tackled her to the ground, she might have flown away. He covered her with illuminating kisses and she laughed that she never would have left, she just might have traveled the currents and wisps of clouds for awhile. They were so in love. All of them were. Tied with a glittering stream of sunlight that carried them all everywhere, always together. Jordan with his streaming eyes and strumming hands and beautiful lips; Fairy with her jazz voice and yellow painting glittering fingertips; Chris with his towering legs and steady, slick moves on his board through the water; and Skye with red tangy words flowing with ease from her mouth and orange and banana twists sparking like jumping fireflies from her strong arms. Jordan strumming, Fairy picking and playing bass, Chris playing drums and Skye scribbling lyrics fiercely, they formed the coolest band on the coast. Maybe their power came from being laced with the simplicity of merely, and entirely, being themselves. And, somehow, that they were the luckiest four young people ever; because it isn't even once in a blue moon, or a yellow moon, or even a red or an eclipsed moon, that four people find each other without the effort of finding each other the way they had. Some nights later, jazz music floated across a stage and orbs of white candle light hung in the air by an Italian restaurant. A blonde guy and a pale girl flew in and out of each other, immersed in the other's eyes. A boy in a violet shirt held a girl in his arms, her face glowing with yellow glitter. The stars flickered in and out of the still, reflecting water. by Samara the ? angel *** crumble she has nothing to cry for, she has everything to sigh for she's waiting for the tears and she doesn't know why, she's walking in a cloud of doubt and she doesn't know why she just knows she's waiting to cry, for tears to spill over like rain and blurry streaks of lavendar and brown splash onto her hands and drain and drown and crumble she doesn't know why she's down, or why she has to go away but even when everyone's around she's still alone, still afraid she has everything unleashed weighing down on her mind walking steep ledges she's been locked up while she thought she was open she's brimming at her edges feeling like a time bomb, wanting to wash away, go far away weariness's water pouring steam she lets her mind drift off away waiting for the clock to pound or tears to rocket her from the ground and crumble down do i want someone or something do i want the sun to glow for ever more she thinks about that pulsing fire and doesn't try to think anymore she has images and ideals and they're so high that they touch the sky maybe they just aren't real, she says, i think i overfeel, and their colors are going to melt before my eyes in weary streams and faded lies and crumble, crumble down she says, i can't hope to even start to understand and if someone else could i'd sink into them, i would and forget it all, cause they'll know, and maybe i won't have to she's waiting for the tears to drown closing her eyes against the sound waiting for something to give and crumble she knows that she wants to cry or leak all the pounding inside spilling over lips and sound splashing onto her hands to drain and drown and crumble *** electric blue electricity wires illuminescent lines down my body and it curls around my fingertips so that every crevice is held in electric the current tasting metallic a hungry spark an amazing spiral all across living a mysterious chasm electric a painful shock, if i stop to think about it but so blue electric i crave more what makes you glow? do you shine as lazy sunlight, yellow on your curved back do you lust for scarlet-wine passion do you love colors, do you savor white, or is your mind black and silver do you love candy-red maybe your eyes glaze crazed spinning in every change and new twist or are you overcome to seep in the serene lavendar touch that makes you glow or maybe you're like me glowing in blue electricity *** by SM 11-22-99 Again I saw you, it was almost like the first time again everything happening all over again. slung my bag off my shoulder and ran all the way to the edge of the terminal and you caught me in your arms just like I'd always remembered just like I'd always imagined just like I'd pictured a hundred times just like the both of us waited for when we were only connected by phone lines and those invisible ties they call bonds whatever, maybe they were wrong but right then, i felt like i had just burst in like a tilty planet from nowhere, it was almost like the first time again. You caught me in your arms and immediately your reality surrounded me it was none of that backward movie star charm it was better than that, no, beyond that, warm and walking so lightly i'd bounce away such an off tilt planet i could swear the time of day was everywhere and nothing. You said Hi, Hi, it was almost goodbye and I stopped in the cigarette smoke for some reason, just a moment, I saw you washed away from a built up hope But no, you were glowing and I should have been more knowing It was only a day, what can I say You said, you're more beautiful than I foresaw fragile like ice before it begins to thaw even though I've treasured every past embrace when I see you now it's like a bright pale face. I always liked your poetry though you said you couldn't write it and you do, and you know it, like knives on flowers you can speak waves for endless hours. driving away in the taxi then you kissed me, like an honest friend and I knew by something that you were devoid of pain that's something in you that I don't want to remain, so I asked what I owe your new ecstasy to? and you said, obviously, seeing you, and I said-you've been happy long before this but you waited till now to tell me your bliss. The car jerked and threw me against your arm and you laughed and blew smoke rings and told me about her A blast from the window stole my breath with its wings but that couldn't be true-I was imagining things, because the window was closed to the frosty outside my fingers were numb, though you were warm by my side You didn't see me and I was secretly glad and I blinked as you told me of new sunlight you've had the driver stopped outside your corner apartment, I paid him, and stepped out into that wind, which didn't make any difference now slung my bag over my shoulder and you took it, though I thought, I should carry my luggage my own, so I can hide this burning that I've suddenly grown, but instead I held myself and cussed under my breath for feeling alone. I know I told you to go find a good, nice girl but I guess I didn't really expect that to fall into place and I couldn't help thinking, jesus, why couldn't you at least wait the problem is, she doesn't sound like someone I could hate. she's not overweight and she laughs with such ease I have a pretty outlook but I've always been a tease. I'm the girl whose impulse is to run away and wait to see if you will follow and then crumble when you're more than late. I always told you I wanted a steady base, so that when it happened for both of us we could stay just as close and just as dear and— oh god but now, now that you're near— I have you more than ever now but you're farther gone than before Love stumbles and when it stands it's moved, it's still there but not where we left it, and while you're handing me coffee I can't catch your eyes because I'm the one with the impulse to just run far away But instead I stay, kicking my bag in a corner I told you I wanted you happy, and I do, but I guess I didn't want it at the cost of passion from you so I force a smile, time to get used to change since not everything will always remain *** koolaid i remember you and i guess what i miss is what i imagined you were i am the poster on my door of a black and white photograph i am the ink stained glass picture that fell down. you as the yellow in the mug holding green koolaid. you the laughing always laughing kind of boy. the wrastlin tasslin notslinky notgroovin justsnoozin one. you with the feeling of her always lingering. she is burning up in her gold dreams that she's created of you. sublimely she'll hold you and i know her pale pink stars were born out of you. she sees a one-way mirror. i see the fragments of a suncatcher. catching the colors that flood this all, and playing off of it like silent laughter. except, it isn't a joke. you the alarm clock waiting to set off screaming. you the spring and gold corn. me, left standing. *** under fire she said, i feel crazy, i feel great and you're not the one i was pretending not to hate you're so you, but not new, so so un-you and i was just trying to act that way looking like her fingerpainting on the wall she said, i didn't want to, i didn't fall not at all, yes, and she dances in tune a salsa hip and all she fixes her hair just so one strand hangs loose, she's a reaction to fashion. she's saying, i can't be that way, be a blonde who gets guys so i'll go for hardcore and try batting my eyes and she's a reaction, so passive aggressive covering up stickily her acidic reaction she gained pounds but thinks it's in her underwire you can just hear her, she's under fire under fire she envies the model but won't say so to herself she'd be bearable if she just accepted that she has faults like everybody else she said, i love her, but i feel unshiny and ugly and untrue when i'm with her, and i think, honey, that's how i feel with you she's so original, she's such a copycat mouse she wants to be me or i her and she calls to hang out then says, forget it, i'm sick of disillusionment and i like me, you like you, so no cause for resentment you can just hear her, she's under fire for awhile it's good then it gets rude and you think you should, but i know we all could but you-she's so you, but not new, so so un-you a reaction, so covered up stickily herself, to be so in, be so out she wants to be so wonderful, she's a pack of nutrasweet, good but a little off a fool to pity, a tragedy, a manipulativee bitch, only a girl, only a girl, sinking so low, striving to be higher you can just hear her, she's under fire under fire *** eating the apple wanting something too much wary of cracks, shakes, rides used to moods, ebbing tides eating the apple closing down on empty air drifting, clinging, things i can't have fear of losing, keeping, things that i have drinking up lava, downing icy coals drinking up lava, downing icy coals living a fire loathing the flames washed up in envy, evil adoration never losing, but ungaining, salutation - --i want to feel your heart beating - --i want to know you're alive - --i want to hear you breathing - --kiss your closed eyes - --massage you and hold you - --prove what i've told you to you so far away the only one who treats me like i'm real to you so far away afraid to lose what i want to feel eating the apple wanting something too much *** okay people, I love yall mucho, write more and more! And all you who are productive as the sun - shivergirl etc. - you better send poems for the 32 Flavors zine! Even doc did! sam the ? angel "i wish on every falling star and whisper your name. hoping that you and i will always remain. until the joydrops" -joydrop- ------------------------------ End of eda-thoughts-digest V2 #357 **********************************