From: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org (eda-thoughts-digest) To: eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Subject: eda-thoughts-digest V4 #108 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, September 26 2001 Volume 04 : Number 108 * 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: Re: eda-thoughts-digest V4 #107 [DPS8315@aol.com] ET: "darkness is light inside out" [RJonthego@aol.com] ET: ~my own purr-sonal jukebox~ ["marty" ] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Tue, 25 Sep 2001 00:53:03 EDT From: DPS8315@aol.com Subject: ET: Re: eda-thoughts-digest V4 #107 Greets to all, It was a post on 09/04 by doc rome, whom i've never directly spoken to, that renewed my interest in this dying breed list and also writing in general.. a conversation with a friend and a few self-ass-kickings later and i produced a couple somethings worthy only of those whom i've drugged it out with over the last few years.. It's been long enough now that I feel like I can look back on the conversations and posts we've had as something of the past, but here I am indulging in it.. Nai, T, Sam, some of the others who may have come and gone and lingered back, I wouldn't mind knowing you're still alive. James and so I drifted in and out of poetic conciousness for months, day by day on inspirational rations like creation was more of a hobby than a way of life. For years I have wondered what brought us back, to the same haunts and routines, with periodic liberation from ordinary existence: I wondered where the calling lay, to record our thoughts, convey our feelings inward out, I wondered if each of us were like little boys and girls, standing outside at night in the fall, with the air chilling around us, coming down out of an iridescent cloud from a surreal sky, ridin wind through the trees, small in stature to the world's problems, but at the height of understanding a simple and incredible existence, knowing that there had been quaint, unadaulterated glory in every beautiful cloud in the sky today. we are poets, less like angels than we are the everyday chlidren of a bursting autumn afternoon, blinding winter morning, or the breath of a spring or early summer breeze, because we feel things differently, see thing differently, even live things differently, down to a different defintion for life and connection to your soul Before it was your lifestyle, it was your birthright, and it chose you- you will write. for history and humanity you have been called to write. - ----- I am not a renaissance poet. I am not waiting for the world to die, to be redefiend to my notions of romance and heroism. but I want more than to clip my defintions for love and tragedy from newspaper headings or magazine features, because i want to know the whole sublime necessity of inspiration, I want to be in love with the world and a glorious saturday afternoon forever, let time pass me by as long as I have the everlasting world to gaze out upon, to go on with the feeling or living, even without understanding, if only to write poetry like a runaway train, letters only parts of words, all linked together in a sea of disordered thoughts and rhythmns, every box car, oil tanker, and flat bed with its own seperate bounce and hum, a giant rambling mess barreling through ink and lines and wasting everyone's time but it's own I want to drive it faster along the rails, and to draw it out with confessions all across the continent, unfinished 09/23/01 ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 25 Sep 2001 01:03:30 EDT From: RJonthego@aol.com Subject: ET: "darkness is light inside out" our joy knows the way fingers can freeze the way you can just sit for minutes, hours without a single word escaping like a little sigh and i sigh when i think of the joy i used to equate with you but now our joy knows silence, and not the good connecting kind. our joy is quiet and sometimes it has to pinch itself to see if it still exists. *** celebrating you you deserve banners. ice cream and cake. speeches. a parade. something fun and wholesome not just drinking games. you deserve more than teasing. you should have the world, if you wanted it more than what you can see out of the webcam's view smoke fills my throat and i think you should have every kind of wish a candle could give you and i would tell everyone watching to sing loudly and celebrate you. *** will you come walk with me? just down the path a little sit on a blanket we know that grass scratches even when it looks oh so soft and wavy we are natives to these hills and know that despite the view from the car window it's better to just stay inside where we can drive through our lives stay safe and unscratched. *** do you think i am imagining it all? i remember you making animal sounds and giggling we dressed up in shawls and bonnets we played star trek in your garage. we scampered over rocks and squirted each other with water guns dreaming of our future. they would be married, she would die young we would be godmothers to all of their children. was i imagining it then too? because suddenly your future has taken on such a different slant than what we planned and no matter how hard i try i can't reconcile my image of the little girl hiding candy under her bed, petting her cats, yelling at her brother, with the girl i see today talking about things i never thought you'd touch. *** whispering my love dreams. my hopes, i miss the way butterflies fill up your stomach till you think you might hit your head on the cieling. there is nothing wrong with me right now, this moment. but i can't even write a love poem. (and now i think there's something wrong.) *** in the dark places i want to sit curling like smoke around a journal and a pen. to be a jumping shadow black hair and smooth rocks the air smells charred today my throat hurts and the light is too bright. i want you to be water dripping from the cave for thousands of years i want to be the one who discovers the secret little passage that leads me to you. i want to be the echo that makes you quiver perilously. trembling at the edge, i could be caught underground forever and never wish for light. *** to kiss life softly like everyone's skin is as smooth as a rose petal like every flower ends in he loves me. i would hold your hand explore dance devour get drunk on dandelion wine and make sure that thorns never prick me. *** am i sad? wind blows smoke across my eyes metal blinds clang and i can hear the hum of suburban living. tasting ashes on my tongue i would lick my words off of the page if i thought they'd be sweeter. *** i'll tell you what it's like to live it's bouncing off of the cieling only to hit the floor. bouncing off the walls between that absorbing every bit of color and laughing loudly. eat every peach and try not to choke while litter shines like diamonds and oil makes rainbows in water. drive fast, dance away look back less than you look forward be hurt hurt less and be exhilirated while you're flying to the cieling. *** drink my melted smiles collect my fragmented laughs piece them back together as disjointed as before. i am good for a giggle or two, late night giddiness poetry afterwards, and not much else. *** truth oozing gorgeous pain i hide myself behind a computer screen and wish you were more forthcoming. has there ever been someone more honest? i put my life here for you to read and save and print and examine wishing that pain was the lie and who knows maybe it is maybe i need to examine my own pillow every time i dream. *** laugh fool you know there's nothing else to do. laugh and laugh until the bitter dance swirls away like peppermint is that sweet enough for you? stare like a knife and try to cut through the wall inside of you laugh until the tears come and you can't see them. problem solved. *** easy to say all of this, it's easy to let your fingers take over. it's easy to write about the way your head is stuffed, how the wind is too dry and you can't swallow away the feeling inside. how ani is playing mellow and you are wanting it to rain again. it almost feels like cheating, but the real test comes later. *** never easy i loved you in spring rains. i loved you through lightning i loved you during thunder. i loved you while my stomach was cut up while my throat ached and while my eyes burnt holes through walls and doors i loved you while i sent tornadoes to pick up your house and bring it to me, loved you while i cursed every inch seperating us loved you past the distance i loved you when you sent a drought, when you breathed in smog and my head pounded, while you slammed doors and heavy winds to blow me over. loving you was easy never. *** together felt like worship i have never been more thankful never been more ready to bow down at an altar and sacrifice myself to the gods in charge of maintaining this bliss. i could pray every night for your arms, for your hair, for the couch, for the field, your guitar, your food, your smile, your voice and never pray enough. 'i miss you' has too few words to get across the intensity of longing for your sanctuary. *** blind kiss to the one that smells like oranges rotting left behind on an empty seat on the train i remember little scratchy things about you but not the overall softness that i wrote about then. it gets dark so early now and all i can think about is how warm you were after the sun went down. *** left over woman with secret blazes she tries to be so obvious that no one will guess the truth. how hurt she gets, how hard it is to be the one on the other side and how much it aches when she knows she has to reconcile herself to being shadowed, always. *** - --Roya (for writing club, curtis) ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 25 Sep 2001 09:47:51 +0200 From: "marty" Subject: ET: ~my own purr-sonal jukebox~ for T :) + insecurities filled pages of speeches until your hand met mine for real and my heart landed on your duvet love bringing me to the edges of desire in flights and jumps of attraction and a 50's car in which we are lightweight and howling like wolves for more and for more heartstrings strummed with affection the night is young in this flickering light my head cradled by whispering waves i am harboured in your sea of tunes the loverly songs that you chose for me come lapping in on my shore as i slumber still in comfort of where you were last night here, in my bed + thank you for everything that you are to me. i love you Lea, min lilla T ------------------------------ End of eda-thoughts-digest V4 #108 **********************************