
               F U C K E D  U P  C O L L E G E  K I D S
	-------------------------------------------------------	
                - t h e  p o e t r y  v e n t u r e -
	-------------------------------------------------------

        "It is difficult to get the news from poems yet men die
         miserably every day for lack of what is found there."

                                -  William Carlos Williams

	-------------------------------------------------------

           ode zu allen Frauen, die ich habe, liebte
        jene Frauen haben nie meine Liebe zurUckgebracht
        
        i stood like a cold statue
         glaring out across the field of snow
        i could feel the heat of my pounding heart 
         warming my body in the sub zero temperature
        i could feel the anticipation of the moment
        i could feel the desire
        i could feel love
         and longing
        
        there is so much i want to do
        so much to say
        so much to experience
        
        but i stood like patience on a monument
        unmoving as my desires built like a fiery storm within me
        
        i so wanted to run into the snow
         like the child i once was
          and be marry in my ways 
          when i knew nothing of this torture called love
        i wanted to explode with energy
         sprout my wings and fly the skies 
          as fast and furious as mortally possible
        i wanted to escape with loud music 
         pounding against my ears
        i wanted to drink from the burning fuel
        i wanted to eat the madness
        
        but i stood there
        shaking in my silence
        letting the cold air pound against my chest
        
        i began to breath heavily
        i began to erupt with passion inside myself
        i could not stand to stand any longer
        if i did not act upon my emotions 
         i would surely die 
          of the one thing i have never truly had
        
        my legs twitched
        i could feel it coming
        the moment i have lived for
        was this it
        is this the time worth living for
        is this what i have come so far for
        
        allowing no more control of my body
         i began to run
        i ran through the field of snow like a bull in the run
        i ran with passion as fire leapt out from behind me
        i ran with desire as the angels came up to watch
        i ran until the final moment fell upon me
        
        i leapt into the air and tried to fly
         to escape
        and reality crashed down around me 
         as i feel hard to the ground
        and i cracked the earth with that motion
        
        as i laid there
        i could feel the realization of why i have never achieved my goal
         ...
        i have never tried hard enough
         ...
        i never made that final action to obtain it
        i never tried long enough
        i never tried at all
        
        one of the angels stood over my broken form
        he unleashed his understanding against me
        and then he unleashed pain
        
        his elements struck hard against my skin
        they tore their way into my chest
        he looked down at my boiling heart
         and began to reach for it
        
        he didn't expect what i had for him
        no one expects what i have for them
         they never do
        
        as his hand met my heart 
         an explosion occurred
        he was thrown back
        and all the other angels turned away 
         as the light blinded them
        
        i stood up and walked over to the fallen angel
        i stared hard upon his smoldering body
        i looked at his burning wings
        and i looked into his face
        and he was crying
        
        i closed my chest
        put back on my dusty black coat
        and with an expression of distinct void
         i walked away
        and they let me go
        
        to this i wondered of myself
        if my love is strong enough to make the angels cry
        why isn't it strong enough for the mortals
        why am i so cold
        why am i so hard
        is my love unmatched in this existence
        or have i just not found it's return yet
        
        alas
         i am all out of tears
        and have no where else to go
        so i shall stand here
         looking out across the field of snow
        remembering the one time i acted upon my emotions
        the one time i let passion rule my mind
        
        i will see you again soon
        and when you look into my eyes
         past my soul
         and into my heart
        will you see a picture of yourself 
         hanging in my torture chamber
        the only place left that lets me feel
        
        - rage-303



        TEMPO FOR TEARS (IN STEREO)

        i think this will change my foot-groove view -
        fear surprised my by tapping my shoulder
        too many times in this ballroom decade;
        an experience to photograph for my children -
        to dance across new horizons and bridges
        with success leaning into my upbeat body.
        
        flesh covers my body, but I cannot sing -
        radio stations tucked me into bed each night
        while cold shivers forsake my physical needs;
        another emotional melody to sway with -
        rhythm in my words destroyed by shy situations
        in attempts to waltz away from solo pain.
        
        nothing too fast for this awkward dreamer -
        stars point for my feet to settle onto the ground
        instead of trying to fly from rejection faces;
        there are goddesses and mermaids calling -
        arrangements must not be scripted or recorded,
        but i cannot improvise dreams for public performance.
        
        Indiana Poet            Jan. 7, 1998



        LIFE

        Shedders naive where the building
        Clothes dresses up on heart
        Draws the picture of his future
        Keeps the paper close at hand
        
        Back system into a suitcase
        Suffers terror on a train
        And he wants to start some movement
        Cause he's indestructible
        
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Destructable
        Cause he's in
        
        And you know they'll have appointments
        And they'll live us alone
        And if we just keep on talking
        Then we'll stare make its own
        
        There's commotion and promotions
        Now they dunk it anymore
        Selling pictures to a paper
        Now that everyone must know
        
        Trading satelites for substance
        Let spectators pave the way
        We'll invade the travy fountain
        Now that everyone must pay
        
        Trading satelites for substance
        Let spectators pave the way
        We'll invade the travy fountain
        Now that everyone must pay
        
        Mama's babies
        Mothers, tragedy
        Babies, mothers, tragedy
        Babies, mothers, tragedy
        
        Terrifies again.........
        
        If you can understand the song you get the message
        
        - satanhell
        


        King of Wishful Thinking
        
        Wishing what was said, was real
        Planning ahead for what you do not know,
        and reaching for things you think you want.
        
        Wishing on stars, out of sight,
        for things that are or never were,
        you find yourself King.
        
        Trying to find that one,
        not to ever seal with a kiss,
        but to just touch and feel.
        
        Wishing on stars, out of sight,
        if only you knew what I held this night.
        For then things would be different,
        and you would find yourself a happy King.
        
        Instead you are a King with no Queen.
        And, the truth should never be seen.
        For the stars outshine the dim light,
        that you wish upon this very night.
        
        Things so sacred, you would never -
        yet, you still find yourself wishing.
        Only to be a King of Wishful Thinking.
        
        -Kamira                         January 18th, 1998
        First poem of the year.         kami@sekurity.org
        


        Erotica         (or dedication to Shane)
        
        Sheltered innocence is sexual appeal
        emotional turmoil an unfounded desire
        twisted soul, scarred psyche, raging conflict...
        
        desire to share pain, desire to be the
         missing element. desire
        
        Is it comprehension of pain?
        empathy of internal struggle?
        or lacking in oneself, and need for pain from another?
        Doesn't matter. Come mind fuck me.
        Please?
        

	-------------------------------------------------------
        E D I T O R S:   jericho@dim.com   &   demonika@dim.com
	-------------------------------------------------------
        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. 
	-------------------------------------------------------
	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         
	-------------------------------------------------------
        (c) Copyright. All poems copyright by original author.     
        -------------------------------------------------------
        F O U N D E D:                         October 30, 1997


