From: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org (eda-thoughts-digest) To: eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Subject: eda-thoughts-digest V3 #271 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, July 20 2000 Volume 03 : Number 271 * 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: (no subject) [DPS8315@aol.com] ET: Offering [DPS8315@aol.com] ET: not supposed to make sense...vagueness is the game [BRONCOBAND@aol.co] ET: still not making sense, but lovely to feel like i've shared [BRONCOBA] ET: Giving myself a stern talking-to... [RJonthego@aol.com] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 19 Jul 2000 02:14:12 EDT From: DPS8315@aol.com Subject: ET: (no subject) >JAMES BROGDON kicks ass! :) This message brought to you in response to a little favor I did for Tara- critiqued her stuff- one of a very select group of charitable services I offer. I dont promise to be 'right,' and I certainly dont promise that I'm nice or that people like what I have to say, but most people desire responses to their poetry and sometimes I dont mind doing it. this in mind, I critiqued the most recent posts from Claudia- jaelle@tin.it Sara- myss_raven@chickmail.com Annie- mhickman@erols.com I tried this once before and it was about like shit hitting the fan- but i'll try again If you want comments on your work, you know, something that you really feel like your heart is in, whatever, send the piece to edacrit@aol.com maybe stick something in the subj so I know what it's about.. i've got a new way of doing these things- if you were around a while back, you'll remember that the critiques used to be electronic.. not personalized enough for me, I print everything out and write comments on the piece now, so there's actually a physical copy, which is scanned and made into a jpeg (around 80K), and then is posted along with others at the following address: http://www.geocities.com/transcenda/ sign my guestbook and click on critiques the aforementioned ppl can stop by to pick up their crits, and if anyone else is interested, lmk James ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 19 Jul 2000 02:33:09 EDT From: DPS8315@aol.com Subject: ET: Offering Ironic that they fall asleep writing, most alive, yet so drained as to drift between conciousness during awakening midnight oil dripping away yet revelation comes. brightens the lamps; flows the ink again, of concise wisdo oh learned ind, treat us tonight. upside down in a crooked sleep, live the lopsided life, great moments to one breed rulers of history, recorders of time, the poets march on, driving through the night. - ----- and on and off centuries ran without soul, or sea rching a s e p e r a t e d s 0 rt of spiritual occupation that let loose demons to the night and killed all day long: children slept in cold sweat full-knowing dawn would not come and without sleep there would be no awakening so, everyone hid covered their faces and cowered in closets, praying to gods they didnt know in places they'd never see, each of them holding a selfish little hope for survival July 4th, 2000 ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 19 Jul 2000 05:19:47 EDT From: BRONCOBAND@aol.com Subject: ET: not supposed to make sense...vagueness is the game Confidence comes through increments far and weak. A growing belief shattered by routine. Grief of the selfish kind bleeds into loneliness. Kindred curves leave nothing to the imagination. Nothing but conclusions to standard adventures kept neatly tucked behind my shame. Or is it pride? It is competition for the next adored being. ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 19 Jul 2000 05:38:56 EDT From: BRONCOBAND@aol.com Subject: ET: still not making sense, but lovely to feel like i've shared The taste of accomplishment breeds the smell of fear that I soon will feel silence. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Illusions convince me I'm not alone until the next marriage proposal - -- a result of my partners illusions. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Just how long can my dream last without rest? Just long enough to shatter my hope. (here "dream" symbolized a person) ~~`*Laura*'~~ Thank you for reading!! ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 19 Jul 2000 22:04:10 EDT From: RJonthego@aol.com Subject: ET: Giving myself a stern talking-to... I'm laying down the rules for myself, Before the games begin. This time it will be on the home field I will hold onto familiarity I will not lose myself in the cheers of the specators As alluring as their clapping is I will stay focused on myself and holding my position when you come crashing into me. ~ If it wasn't for his smile that quick grin which flashed from my eyes to yours and rested comfortably and easily on his face, if it wasn't for the fact that we had compatible smiles, I don't think I would have believed a single word he said. ~ Every once in a while I am still tempted by the grandiose But I have learned the charm of a hill you can roll down versus an unattainable mountain on a postcard. Your smile was familiar, in the face of breathtaking overwhelmities. ~ I wonder what you will think of my scars I hope you hold my hand and tell me you've been there. It's so much easier to travel these swampy paths with a guide who speaks the language. ~ Maybe I am not missing him so much as I am missing who I was when I could let someone love me. I am not missing the hugs as muhc as I am missing holding my arms open to him. Now I think I will stand still, and see what it is like to be hugged by someone else for a change - and whether I will open myself again. ~ We played at reading thoughts But you couldn't even hear what I was saying. Maybe we spoke two different languages Because it was plain as day to me, the finality in the silence between the lines. I hope you can hear what I'm not saying Because from this moment on, I don't know what you're thinking anymore. ~~~ roya "there are a thousand ways to kill a banana - more, if you count the other ones!" --ethan ------------------------------ End of eda-thoughts-digest V3 #271 **********************************