From: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org (eda-thoughts-digest) To: eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Subject: eda-thoughts-digest V3 #84 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, March 9 2000 Volume 03 : Number 084 * 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 V3 #xxx or the like gives readers no clue * as to what your message is about. Today's Subjects: ----------------- ET: one from me [The Phoenix Princessa ] ET: Re: ~a candle burning in every room~ ["Kevin B. Pease" ] ET: My newest poem (written last night) [JewelAng@aol.com] ET: ~before the tussilago~ [shivergirl ] ET: french gibberish (in english ;) [shivergirl ] Re: ET: french gibberish (in english ;) [DPS8315@aol.com] ET: *~SpringsComingAndIt'sMakingMeSick Session~* [JewelAng@aol.com] ET: A Little Something Refreshing [Annie ] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 08 Mar 2000 21:24:03 -0800 From: The Phoenix Princessa Subject: ET: one from me first post in awhile... xo samara - --- estranged we stand apart from each other pretending to be strangers. but the air is constricting my lungs as i shift on my feet over here, avert and dart my eyes but they keep getting glued to yours, yours, so speckled scaled a mosaic of filtered glass. the air between us grows tighter together so soon i can't stand it anymore, and i'm falling into you falling into your arms and i don't care if they stare now. smoke perfume roses damp raindrops body sweat and the softest lips. and then we sit the cigarette trails faintly. we glow green like aliens in the lamps blaring into the black, though the lights aren't green. i squeeze my fingers till they look purple and bruised in that distorted light. purple and bruised like my soul. and i cry emerald tears and you wipe them away with the softest fingers, and i wouldn't want it any other way now. and the night brings the strength of bodies pressed up against each other and condensation steams the windows and hands and hair and legs become entwined. a world is left behind while hazed away from things that are too cold and cruel, we are twisting and becoming fire in bloom. and that's when i knew that eternity exists, as every moment stretched to last forever, and every touch tingled and ran as if my skin glowed, as if your hands were meant to be on me, as if i were all lit up, and i knew you loved me then and there, and here amidst the clusters of orange silk and empty beds, i know you love me now ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 9 Mar 2000 00:52:29 -0500 From: "Kevin B. Pease" Subject: ET: Re: ~a candle burning in every room~ "shivergirl" writes: > KEVIN, thank you big muches for the beautiful > translation. Well, after 5 years of French back in jr high / high school, I'd like to believe I can at least get a rough translation right. :) I can't do all those damned "Future imperfect subjunctive" tense structures anymore, but I can do the basics, still, I think. But, you're welcome... as I said, I hope I didn't mangle your words. ;) > yer french is not rusty or broken; Heh... if you believe that, you should hear me try to speak it. :) > i think it's better than mine (not that that would > be overly difficult! ;). Now now... don't mistake my ability to translate words in context with being able to construct useful sentences in French, or converse in French. I can ask "Comment va Monique" (do they still use that damned French family in the french books these days? Claire, Robert, Monique... their friend Hamidou from Senegal? I always believed I'd want to punch those kids right in the mouth if I ever met them... :), and "Ou est le W.C.?!" (Essential in conversation, I think.), and that's about it. ;) > i feel honoured that you > took the time (and i gotsta admit it feels kewl to > have someone take yer werds and make them so > lovely; it was weird to read it in plain old > anglais after the fact, but interesting. :) Well, I gots to admit something myself... I had to translate it while I was reading it, so it really wasn't a big deal to just write down that translation. But, in the end, I suppose it was worth it... It is kind of interesting to see a translation of something written in another language into English... see what's lost or gained in the translation... So anyway. That's all I've got to say... no poems or nothin'... just an endorsement of a couple new CD's I picked up recently that have really grown on me: "Mule Variations", Tom Waits -- easily one of the gruffest singing voices I've ever heard (maybe second only to Diamanda Galas, if you know who she is...), but some fantastic songs. "Somewhere Near Paterson", Richard Shindell -- his newest effort. Excellent, highly recommended. I think Ben can probably back me up on this one... Kev - -- Kevin Pease kbpease@concentric.net ICQ UIN: 3106063 AOL IM: kbpease "Slept all night in a cedar grove / I was born to ramble, born to rove; / Some men are searching for the holy grail / But there ain't nothin' sweeter than ridin' the rail..." -----{Tom Waits, "Cold Water"}----- ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 08 Mar 2000 22:28:33 -0800 From: The Phoenix Princessa Subject: ET: another forever you i wanted all the pain i wanted all the change i'd live it all cause i just want you again i wanted to be made real i wanted us to feel and now i'll cry alone you are far away seeping drifting falling sinking if not for you where would i be now drowning breathing loving feeling the world is empty without you around i will wait for you to spend my life with you and then no worries just forever you i'd live the sting the poison it'd bring just so i could be with you always ~samara ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 9 Mar 2000 07:12:29 EST From: JewelAng@aol.com Subject: ET: My newest poem (written last night) this is for someone special. They know who they are.. * * * * * I am not sure what it is you are thinking I do not know what you are feeling. I feel so hopeless My smooth phrases seem to work, but I feel that they do not I wish I could just hold you and tell you how wonderful you are, how speical, how loved... I feel jealous of you You can admit the thruth to your own mind I feel so small I can't even tell myself the truth let alone someone beyond my own flesh. I want you to know I am crying, but you will never understand why I guess somethings aren't meant to be know I love you * * * * * * It's not that great of a poem. It was just a spilling of emotions. I'm not even sure why I'm sending it. It's an awful poem. Anyways, feedback would still be loved. Rebecca http://nettrash.com/users/majesticramblings ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 09 Mar 2000 12:24:50 -0500 From: shivergirl Subject: ET: ~before the tussilago~ + all day her head felt like a gigantic clamp or mental hand had seized her mind and the panic symptoms just short of a full-blown attack or episode, hovered on her spine like yellow courage, after the fact and amid the white spaghetti we never got to cook all she can see within her view is a fruitopia bottle filled with the common clinging often found within a textbook, co-dependent relationship but then there are the fond instances when not being the right one after all makes the whole not eating ice cream and holding hands situation much easier to accept crawling, sneaking, smiling into your bed when you went to brush your teeth for the first and only time that day thinking i was sleeping in the spare, because i was throwing another tantrum again watching star wars under the covers half-asleep and almost-bored, but determined and stubborn, with one eye open, to see it all, for you snuggling in the back seat swallowed by the boat-big-like cadillac, being in new york, a place without bilingual street signs, watching shea stadium pass by... it's touching these we-weren't-perfect-together- in-the-end-but-maybe-perfect-together- at-the-time moments that i find her remembering milky foreheads and slashes of dark brown beauty over top the most intense eyes of a man-child i only caught for an instant, sitting and writing the history of the world, in his own little field of rye + sometimes i pretend the end is my face air-brushed and minimally made-up, trapped inside the cover of the life magazine you submitted your naive photographs to and my blue-green indecisive eyes are always following you and i decide right then and there not to let you simply pass nonchalantly by, just because you have traded the bay for the cacti and seem to have figured out your own personal answers to the universal why and my coral mouth emits a familiar sigh, like those interminable hours of lies, spoken on the phone, sprawled on the couch, half-naked and burning up but none of this occurs to you as you stop in your careful tracks and try to come to terms with this photographic, oddly systematic ghost no, you turn like the world going backwards all of a sudden, giving up the wonders of the sun for a more compatible mutual orbit, and you don't notice the plea i am sending with all my buttons undone you just peruse the rack-- but then i witness your gaze swing back, to rest on my visage-- under siege, there is no hope for i see you take her fingers and caress them as if they are anomalous pearls you have searched every stretch of sand for when i was only an empty oyster devoid of luminescence, filled with high-maintenance hollowness a caricature of a girl who just happened to resemble one gillian anderson in your paranormal x-files world + an uninterrupted yawn rolling over and falling back to sleep after turning off the alarm clock at dawn soaking my feet after incessantly standing missing entire songs in the background because your words have so enraptured me again... these are the things i associate with you + i dare you not to write bitterly i dare you not to write about a woman (especially one that's done you wrong) i dare you not to write from your own perspective (please take someone else's) and i dare you not to bring god into it not to make morality the essence of it i dare you not to write with common avon names using trying-too-hard absurd clichés i dare you not to recycle alpha-boy pledges i dare you not to write something that's always teetering on the sexist ledges you love i dare you to write something i would actually want to read i dare you to write something, so that in the end, i'm not left aching, waiting, dying to hit delete and so i push send here-- but i'm still wondering, daring you to write something, anything worth posting for + ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 09 Mar 2000 15:35:55 -0500 From: shivergirl Subject: ET: french gibberish (in english ;) > dear Kev&the rest of y'all. :) any discussion on language fascinates me, so please indulge. ;) > > > Well, after 5 years of French back in jr high / high school, I'd like to > believe I can at least get a rough translation right. :) i took it fer 13 years, and i'm barely able to write it, nevermind speak it!! ;)i've got somebody called sylvain writing me from france, because the thinks i'm a bonafide frenchie!! :) sacre bleu!!! ;) just curious about you doodles down there; is french really offered that much in skewl (like it is up here--bein one of our national languages and such, they kinda sticky about it), compared to l'espagnol?? and kevin, you did more than just "get a rough translation right." if you had translated it literally, it wouldn't be as lovely as you made it. so thanX for gettin past the elementary werds and gettin at the heart of it. :) > I can't do all > those damned "Future imperfect subjunctive" tense structures anymore, was future imperfect subjunctive all one tense??? ;)(didn't tink so.... ;) but i know what you mean! all i ever relied on was the old easy je vais blah blah blah for le futur. :) like, je vais arreter maintenant, parce que tous les gens sont furieux, probablement, avec moi. ;) > Now now... don't mistake my ability to translate words in context with > being able to construct useful sentences in French, or converse in French. > I can ask "Comment va Monique" (do they still use that damned French family > in the french books these days? Claire, Robert, Monique... their friend > Hamidou from Senegal? I always believed I'd want to punch those kids right > in the mouth if I ever met them... :), and "Ou est le W.C.?!" (Essential in > conversation, I think.), and that's about it. ;) dunno, haven't cracked open un livre francais (or is that the other way around?? ;) in annees. :)le w.c.?? :) like le salle de bain (sp?) ? :) > > > > i feel honoured that you > > took the time (and i gotsta admit it feels kewl to > > have someone take yer werds and make them so > > lovely; it was weird to read it in plain old > > anglais after the fact, but interesting. :) > > Well, I gots to admit something myself... I had to translate it while I > was reading it, so it really wasn't a big deal to just write down that > translation. don't tell me that!!!!!!! ;)shucks!! ;) don't know about the rest of yous, but do you find it a true mark of living a language by thinking in it???? so that if you read a poh-em in it, you wouldn't have to translate, you would just *know*??? > But, in the end, I suppose it was worth it.. you suppose???? ;) > . It is kind of > interesting to see a translation of something written in another language > into English... see what's lost or gained in the translation... which was absolutely nothing.again, thank you. > > > So anyway. That's all I've got to say... no poems or nothin'... just an > endorsement of a couple new CD's I picked up recently that have really grown > on me: > "Mule Variations", Tom Waits -- easily one of the gruffest singing > voices I've ever heard (maybe second only to Diamanda Galas, if you know who > she is...), but some fantastic songs. no, but doesn't he have a song on the dead man walking soundtrack? > "Somewhere Near Paterson", Richard Shindell -- his newest effort. > Excellent, highly recommended. I think Ben can probably back me up on this > one... haven't heard him second-ing that yet, b ut.... ;) take kares everyone (hi rebecca, holly, jon, chris&robert missing-in-action-in-the-u.k.-somewheres... :) tee* ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 9 Mar 2000 16:20:45 EST From: DPS8315@aol.com Subject: Re: ET: french gibberish (in english ;) In a message dated 3/9/00 3:36:07 PM US Eastern Standard Time, tstevens@ican.net writes: > i took it fer 13 years, and i'm barely able to write it, nevermind speak it!! > ;)i've got somebody called sylvain writing me from france, because the > thinksi'm a bonafide frenchie!! :) > sacre bleu!!! ;) treize annee? oh la la! desolee mon petit! > just curious about you doodles down there; is french really offered that > much inskewl (like it is up here--bein one of our national languages and such, they > kinda sticky about it), compared to l'espagnol?? down there huh? as it happens to be, I am at like 42 degrees north latitude, thank you very much. french, spanish, japanese, and german are all offered at my school.. although spanish, being that the US borders mexico, is much more popular 'round here. as for the make up of my 3rd year french class: there are about 20 students, probably a few less, that remain. Of them, 4, including myself are male. My teacher is an eccentric 29 year old who thrives on class participation and grammar above vocabulary. > was future imperfect subjunctive all one tense??? ;)(didn't tink so.... ;) > but i know what you mean! all i ever relied on was the old easy je vais blah > blah blah for le futur. :) ugh, je pense le futur est tres tres importante parce que...uhh... je ne sais pas mais c'est ca! :-) although...combining je vais and our friends the infinitives tends to be a bit easier than forming the future... > like, je vais arreter maintenant, parce que tous les gens sont furieux, > probablement, avec moi. ;) j'aimerais bien continuer de parler en français! > > in the mouth if I ever met them... :), and "Ou est le W.C.?!" (Essential > in > > conversation, I think.), and that's about it. ;) lol, they've got a whole slew of french people these days..from all french speaking countries, indeed. ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 9 Mar 2000 17:10:52 EST From: JewelAng@aol.com Subject: ET: *~SpringsComingAndIt'sMakingMeSick Session~* * * * * * The air surronds me, choking me, filling my nostrials and lungs. It smells of decaying mud and rain. The smell makes me sick and numb. The warmth of the sticky air sticks to my insides like glue and sweat. This day too, feels like my heart. * * * * * I just wrote this today... It's been warm here for the past few days.. just to give you an in sight. Feedback would be loved. Rebecca http://nettrash.com/users/majesticramblings "I too feel like August and that I will soon turn to fall." ~Jewel ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 9 Mar 2000 17:45:22 -0500 From: Annie Subject: ET: A Little Something Refreshing Done in the style of the one-and-only Shivergirl. ~~~ Splat, splat The rain on my shoes Sounds to me like your words So I kick the water higher They, too, are in need of an occasional pick-me-up "S-i-l-e-n-t." Where do leaves go when they are dried and fallen? When they dance in the rat-a-tat folds of the wind? When the sun's extended palms become their undoing Instead of their Hope? "D-a-f-f-o-d-i-l-s." Why, they become fertilizer for daffodils, of course. Done with selfishness, They serve the smiling yellow Not the give-me green. * "Meet me halfway," Your eyes are calling. "I didn't think I was cold enough," My toes say, stalling. "Cold enough for what, Dandelion?" Your tongue inquires. "To be your here and now, to cancel out too much warm," My lips speak softly; such rosy liars! "Don't be so stubborn." Who, me? Couldn't be. * I sit amongst my peers Girls with names slapped on their butts Hair that is too neatly curled And screaming to ride the wind I glance my own hair Lazy and wild Hating curling irons And never obeying clips Lean in so I can whisper, please. I feel so awkward and inadequate with my mousey brown hair It is a common confession, I know But there is absolutely n o t h i n g common about the truth of it * Stop shaking my easel Your walls are choking me You say I should not have bit off more than I could chew I say I'm just too independent for the likes of you - -Annie ------------------------------ End of eda-thoughts-digest V3 #84 *********************************