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               F U C K E D  U P  C O L L E G E  K I D S
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                - t h e  p o e t r y  v e n t u r e -
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        variation of style and form set poetry aside from all
        other forms of writing.  the freedom you have, the total
        disregard of 'rules', and the careless nature of
        expression are the poet's best friend.

        use them as a powerful tool, an excuse to have fun, or
        anything else.  just express your desire in words, else
        a lot could be lost.

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        The Red Hand

        The Red Hand flares before my face
        Not clenched in anger,
        Not extended in supplication,
        But cupped to hold the warmth,
        Fingers together
        As if to caress my soul.
        Etched in black marble,
        It wards off the suffocating winds,
        Nurturing a slow, easeful death.
        All roads lead to the same end;
        Conservation of mortality still holds.
        'Tis death on installment,
        Another cigarette in the dark.

        Screamin' Lord Byron            3:30 AM, a long time ago



        I Stand in The Darkness

        I stand in the darkness of my thoughts
        An illusion my mind creates
        I begin to walk through a storm
        Needles of rain beat my cold pale face
        Clothes drenched and saturated by 
        The uncontrollable pressures
        From a blind uncaring world 
        Making way, no path, directionless
        I find an old man, worn and ragged by the years
        Sitting on a cold stone
        At the edge  of a crystal lake
        Surface rippled by downpour
        I am with him, emotionless
        For what seemed like eternity 
        Where time did not exist
        His wrinkled fragile hands grasp tightly
        Around a short decaying pole
        Waiting for a fish, without bait
        His hook is dull and bare
        I sit down looking into his eyes
        Seeing only myself 
        Coming to the realization 
        That he can offer me no guidance
        
        Trix



        magnetic poetry III

        .wet lip rot thing never bellows about morning
        .women always smile icy
        .woman is a dark poison
        .a feline who can dazzle
        .haunt naked red bone
        .explore steel questions as peace kills
        .more blind waking crap
        .concrete never listens
        .live those wild pictures that linger in brilliant glass
        .marble girl blue with openness
        .blushing & trusting
        .sad cloud fools clean cut velvet
        .embrace the secret universe
        .young worry slowly decays
        .must bleed smoke soon
        .almost prisoner
        .we will have deep sex with a ferocious rhythm
        .sacrifice change
        .delicious eternity
        .burn over fire

        (various guests of dis)



        her fragrance filled the air
        then my mind began to go

        we had such good times in the past
        we had such memorable moments

        what happened to all the good times
        what happened to all the madness

        she could make my soul crawl
        she could make my eyes water

        her fragrance left the room
        then my mind began to go

        that's how it happened last time

        rage



        map of my night
                                
more eclectic, eccentric, out of touch    another kernel compile,  more mail
A              all meaning lost to all    2.0.55 bombed shortly after 2.0.31
small slice                  except me    another man page, another util now
of my random thoughts                I    known.  continued wonder of lamers
and the strange day that i keep having    with power they cannot comprehend.


several  calls    freestyle a blessing    the apocalypse looms around us all
throughout the    for without form the    calling out for the world of souls
night, present    mind can wonder mean    next day, next year, next whatever
company in one    thought down the new    more childish fear or maybe a tool
form,  comfort    trail, chaos of mind    for lemming mass control. i bet it
of friendship.    a simple expression.    is the latter. just one faithless.


cascading flame the warmth    1:52 and disarray is    sleep comes for us all
red and blue dance around.    all there is.  vague    maybe some music so he
mesmerizes poets young kid    glimpse of something    can relax,  let broken 
enthralls taunts and tease    to come. yesteryear.    dreams take his pains.

        dis

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        E D I T O R S:   jericho@dim.com   &   demonika@dim.com
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        to receive new issues via e-mail, send mail to
        jericho@dimensional.com with "subscribe poetry".  if
        you do not have FTP access and would like back issues,
        send a list of missing issues and they will be sent. 
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	A V A I L A B I L I T Y:
        AnonFTP:    FTP.DIMENSIONAL.COM/users/jericho/FUCK/POETRY
        WWW:        http://www.dimensional.com/~jericho         
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        (c) Copyright. All poems copyright by original author.     
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        F O U N D E D:                         October 30, 1997