From: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org (eda-thoughts-digest) To: eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Subject: eda-thoughts-digest V2 #215 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, July 25 1999 Volume 02 : Number 215 * 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: poem [Courtney M Gordon ] ET: poem [nicole irene kline ] ET: and another [nicole irene kline ] ET: You all have a great gift ["Rachel Musser" Subject: ET: poem <> "No, really, we gotta get home in a couple hours, cuz if--" "Shhh...baby kins, why put off for later what you can forget about altogether? Hang on honey bunch. Hey Terry! The norm, on the rocks." an hour goes by "Sweetie pie, you gotta learn to relax. It's like I told you, hot pants, it ain't nothing but a round and round." thinks to self: So does this mean you catch up with yourself and see you're staring at your own ass? Wait...hot pants? it was okay until we got home. I could feel your vodka soaked breath behind me. "Sug...swe...." You stumbled on your feet and struggled to get out your words. You clamped your hand over my mouth. "Sug...sugar bu...sugar bunch, get inside." i obediantly walk inside and run for the phone. it doesn't work. you stumble in, drunk on yourself, and pick up a bottle. "no, no no, sweetie pie...no phone. No ph..." you swing the bottle around and fly it across the room, finding my face easily. I fall on the floor and wait. I look up and it starts. i bury my head in my hands but the rain of punches just fall harder. two hours later we're in the car on the way to the hospital. "Cutie pie, how did this happen, tell me again." "I don't remember..." "Tell me you bitch!" "I...I fell with the bottle in my hand." "That's my baby girl." we walk in and the nurse knows me by name. thinks to self: Kind like a hickey....just another love mark. ~~~~~~~ questions, comments, anything, welcome with open arms! love and luck always Courtney ___________________________________________________________________ Get the Internet just the way you want it. 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Try Juno Web: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagj. ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 24 Jul 1999 16:55:02 -0700 From: nicole irene kline Subject: ET: poem rape: an undeniable repilcation of her worst fears, brought to her in the form of a friend, drunk and asking her (drunk) whatshewasupto an innocent comment avaln ching into a night she won't ever forget as she woke up, bruised and broken and wondering where all this blood had come from later telling people where the bruises were from (stories all fake) and living in her fears. 7-24-99 nk ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 24 Jul 1999 16:59:45 -0700 From: nicole irene kline Subject: ET: and another It's a yellow hello on my dashboard Cork in my thigh Never saw it coming but in Coming saw it go Didn't know his middle name Nor birthday, So to speak And these things add up to glory: As the spotlight of my little story Kissed my cheek. 7-24-99 nk ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 24 Jul 1999 21:50:18 -0300 From: "Rachel Musser" Subject: ET: You all have a great gift @~ Everyday Angels ~@ Hi! All of you have inspired me to write this poem. I read your poems and I think what a gift every single one of you holds. It is unfortunate that some of you don't realize that you have something some people may never have. I wrote this poem to say thank you to every one who sends in their poems and I am trying to let you know that if you have a gift don't throw it away. Please everyone hold on to what you have. "you have a gift" i incredulously watch as a five year old does long division in their head embarrassed i put my calculator away and throw my homework ripped from erasing so much in the trash feeling like a two year old does when they get lost in a supermarket open mouthed i stare as a ten year old sings the blues like a professional embarrassed i walk away from the audition knowing that no matter how many stars i wish upon there will always be someone who wishes on more wide eyed i read a poem entered in a contest as i awkwardly walk away from the entry box knowing that my words will be read but quickly forgotten after his are seen i think back to all of the talent i have encountered in my life and i wish that i could go back and talk to these people and make them realize that they have a gift something some people never will have and to never give that up ----- Please don't give up your gift of writing. It is a beautiful talent. Please realize your strenght with words and always know the promise that each one of you hold. A way with words is something that can never go away. With happiness, @~ Rachel ~@ Be sure to visit http://www.Garfield.com ! Get your free customized E-mail from http://gmail.garfield.com ! ------------------------------ End of eda-thoughts-digest V2 #215 **********************************