80x25 pgUP pgDOWN in aciddraw
AMI!.EXE or any other amiga font
the c 1 r c e transgression
tr5/---- / .
. april 1998
:-Truman-: / kayozz / ruckus
/ oO /
tr5circe/rmrs
:-Starr- : / /
Representing the 4th Circe Ascii Profit
:: in CIRCE04 ::
c i r c e
a higher level of consciousness
Truman Starr in da House!
Thats right, tr5 again in your /
screen, spreading in your head /
like a tumour with his big bad /
clique called Circe. / /
This time we have 10 skillful / /
logos and some lyrics from a //
very special guest: Edgar Allan
Poe. So, in honour of our WHQ
Poes Land and supporting a
tradition of the group the
literature Ill show you some
weird poems of this master of
the horror.
Index of Logos and Poems
/ / o1...........Diamond Darrel
/ / o2...........Goomba
// .A...........The Raven P
/ o3...........Last Calls
/ o4...........Mjay
/ .B...........Israfel P
o5...........New User
o6...........Poes Land
.C...........The City in the Sea P
o7...........Pungas
o8...........Stats
.D...........Eldorado P
o9...........Tim Drake
1o...........Wake up Dead
.E...........A dream within a dream P /
oO /
Diamond Darrel for Diamond Darrel in his 23th b-day. Word Up.
/ . / d i a m o n d
/ / tr5//
X X I I I /
Goomba for Kindm00n
/ g 0 0 m b a /tr5-
The Raven by EAP
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered,
weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of
forgotten lore -
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there
came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my
chamber door.
T is some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my
chamber door -
Only this and nothing more.
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak
December
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost
upon the floor
Eagerly I wished the morrow - vainly I had sought
to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the
lost Lenore -
Nameless Here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each
purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never
felt before
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I
stood repeating,
T is some visitor entreating entrance at my
chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my
chamber door -
This it is and nothing more.
Presently my soul grew stronger hesitating then no
longer,
Sir, said I, or Madam, truly your forgiveness I
implore
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you
came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my
chamber door,
That I scarce was shure I heard you - here I opened
wide the door -
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there
wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared
to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness
gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the wispered
word, Lenore?
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the
word, Lenore!
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within
me burning.
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than
before.
Surely, said I, Surely that is something at my
window lattice
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery
explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery
explore -
T is the wind and nothing more!
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a
flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days
of yore
Not the least obeisance made he not a minute
stopped or stayed he
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my
chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into
smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance
it wore,
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou, I
said, art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from
the Nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Nights
Plutonian shore!
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear
discouse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy
bore
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human
being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his
chamber door -
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his
chamber door,
With such name as Nevermore.
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust,
spoke only
That one word,as if his soul in that one word he
did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered - not a feather
then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered, Other friends
have flown before -
On the morrow He will leave me, as my Hopes have
flown before.
Then the bird said, Nevermore.
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly
spoken,
Doubtless, said I, what it utters is its only stock
and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom
unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one
burden bore -
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden
bore
Of Never - nevermore.
But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into
smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird
and bust and door
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to
linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird
of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and
ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking Nevermore.
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable
expressing
to the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my
bosoms core
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease
reclining
On the cushions velvet lining that the lamp-light
gloated oer,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light
gloating oer,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed
from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim wose foot-falls tinkled on the
tufted floor.
Wretch, I cried, thy God hath lent thee - by
these angels he hath sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories
of Lenore
Quaff,oh, quaff this kind nepenthe and forget his
lost Lenore!
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.
Prophet! said I, thing of evil - prophet still, if
bird or devil! -
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed
thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land
enchanted -
On this home by Horror haunted - tell me truly, I
implore -
Is there - Is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell
me, I implore!
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.
Prophet said I, thing of evil - prophet still, if
bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God
we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow ladden if, within the
distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels
name Lenore.
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.
Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend! I
shriked, upstarting -
Get thee back into the tempest and the Nights
Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul
hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust
above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy
form from off my door!
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, Still is
sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber
door
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demons that
is dreaming,
And the lamp-light oer him streaming throws his
shadow on the floor
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating
on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
Lastcalls for Arlequin
. / / /tr5 . . /. / /
Mjay for Midnight Judge
tr5/ midnightjudge /
Israfel by EAP
And the angel Israfel, whose
heart-strings are a lute, and
who has the sweetest voice
of all Gods creatures - KORAN
In heaven a spirit doth dwell
Whose heart-strings are a lute
None sing so wildly well
As the angel Israfel,
And the giddy stars so legends tell,
Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell
Of his voice, all mute.
Tottering above
In her highest noon,
The enamoured moon
Blushes with love,
While, to listen, the red levin
With the rapid Pleiads, even,
Which were seven,
Pauses in heaven.
And they say the starry choir
And the other listening things
That Israfelis fire
Is owing to that lyre
By which he sits and sings -
The trembling living wire
Of those unusual strings.
But the skies that angel trod,
Where deep thoughts are a duty -
Where Loves a grown-up God -
Where the Houri glances are
Imbued with all the beauty
Which we worship in a star.
Therefore, thou art not wrong,
Israfeli, who despisest
An unimpassioned song
To thee the laurels belong,
Best bard, because the wisest!
Merrily live, and long!
The ecstasies above
With thy burning measures suit -
Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love,
With the fervour of thy lute -
Well may the stars be mute!
Yes, Heaven is thine but this
Is a world sweets and sours
Our flowers are merely - flowers,
And the shadow of thy perfect bliss
Is the sunshine of ours.
If I could dwell
Where Israfel
Hath dwelt, and he where I,
He might not sing so wildly well
A mortal melody,
While a bolder note than this might swell
From my lyre within the sky.
New User for Arlequin
----- tr5rmrs:
Poes Land for Diamond Darrel
tr5rmrs/ /
P o e s L a n d C i r c e W H Q
/ P u n g a s W H Q
The City in the Sea by EAP
Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and
the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
Time-eaten towers that tremble not!
Resemble noting that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
No rays from the holy heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently -
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free -
Up domes - up spires - up kingly halls -
Up fanes - up Babylon-like walls -
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers -
Up many and many a marvelous shrine
Whose wreathd friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.
There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves
But not the riches there that lie
In each idols diamond eye -
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along the wilderness of glass -
No swelling tell that the winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea -
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.
But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave - there is movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide -
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow -
The hours are breathing faint and low -
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.
Pungas for PVM
o / / o
/www.pvm.net / ! p U N G 4 s ! //tr5
o
o
Stats for Volatile
/ / /tr5
Eldorado by EAP
Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.
But he grew old-
This knight so bold-
And oer his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.
And, as his strengh
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow-
Shadow, said he,
Where can it be-
This land of Eldorado?
Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly, ride,
The shade replied,-
If you seek for Eldorado.
Tim Drake for Tim Drake
t i m d r a k e /
/ // /tr5
Wake up Dead for Bergus
:: o /
:::::::::::::: . . o
wake the fuck up . ::
D E A D /. /.
. :: -o+b bergus ..........tr5rmrs........ .
A Dream Within a Dream by EAP
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow -
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream
Yet if Hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand -
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep - while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
The End
Thanks for your time
Truman Starr pato@antisocial.com
AMI!.EXE or any other amiga font
the c 1 r c e transgression
tr5/---- / .
. april 1998
:-Truman-: / kayozz / ruckus
/ oO /
tr5circe/rmrs
:-Starr- : / /
Representing the 4th Circe Ascii Profit
:: in CIRCE04 ::
c i r c e
a higher level of consciousness
Truman Starr in da House!
Thats right, tr5 again in your /
screen, spreading in your head /
like a tumour with his big bad /
clique called Circe. / /
This time we have 10 skillful / /
logos and some lyrics from a //
very special guest: Edgar Allan
Poe. So, in honour of our WHQ
Poes Land and supporting a
tradition of the group the
literature Ill show you some
weird poems of this master of
the horror.
Index of Logos and Poems
/ / o1...........Diamond Darrel
/ / o2...........Goomba
// .A...........The Raven P
/ o3...........Last Calls
/ o4...........Mjay
/ .B...........Israfel P
o5...........New User
o6...........Poes Land
.C...........The City in the Sea P
o7...........Pungas
o8...........Stats
.D...........Eldorado P
o9...........Tim Drake
1o...........Wake up Dead
.E...........A dream within a dream P /
oO /
Diamond Darrel for Diamond Darrel in his 23th b-day. Word Up.
/ . / d i a m o n d
/ / tr5//
X X I I I /
Goomba for Kindm00n
/ g 0 0 m b a /tr5-
The Raven by EAP
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered,
weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of
forgotten lore -
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there
came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my
chamber door.
T is some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my
chamber door -
Only this and nothing more.
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak
December
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost
upon the floor
Eagerly I wished the morrow - vainly I had sought
to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the
lost Lenore -
Nameless Here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each
purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never
felt before
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I
stood repeating,
T is some visitor entreating entrance at my
chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my
chamber door -
This it is and nothing more.
Presently my soul grew stronger hesitating then no
longer,
Sir, said I, or Madam, truly your forgiveness I
implore
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you
came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my
chamber door,
That I scarce was shure I heard you - here I opened
wide the door -
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there
wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared
to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness
gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the wispered
word, Lenore?
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the
word, Lenore!
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within
me burning.
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than
before.
Surely, said I, Surely that is something at my
window lattice
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery
explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery
explore -
T is the wind and nothing more!
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a
flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days
of yore
Not the least obeisance made he not a minute
stopped or stayed he
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my
chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into
smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance
it wore,
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou, I
said, art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from
the Nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Nights
Plutonian shore!
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear
discouse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy
bore
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human
being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his
chamber door -
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his
chamber door,
With such name as Nevermore.
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust,
spoke only
That one word,as if his soul in that one word he
did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered - not a feather
then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered, Other friends
have flown before -
On the morrow He will leave me, as my Hopes have
flown before.
Then the bird said, Nevermore.
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly
spoken,
Doubtless, said I, what it utters is its only stock
and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom
unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one
burden bore -
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden
bore
Of Never - nevermore.
But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into
smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird
and bust and door
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to
linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird
of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and
ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking Nevermore.
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable
expressing
to the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my
bosoms core
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease
reclining
On the cushions velvet lining that the lamp-light
gloated oer,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light
gloating oer,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed
from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim wose foot-falls tinkled on the
tufted floor.
Wretch, I cried, thy God hath lent thee - by
these angels he hath sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories
of Lenore
Quaff,oh, quaff this kind nepenthe and forget his
lost Lenore!
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.
Prophet! said I, thing of evil - prophet still, if
bird or devil! -
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed
thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land
enchanted -
On this home by Horror haunted - tell me truly, I
implore -
Is there - Is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell
me, I implore!
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.
Prophet said I, thing of evil - prophet still, if
bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God
we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow ladden if, within the
distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels
name Lenore.
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.
Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend! I
shriked, upstarting -
Get thee back into the tempest and the Nights
Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul
hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust
above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy
form from off my door!
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, Still is
sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber
door
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demons that
is dreaming,
And the lamp-light oer him streaming throws his
shadow on the floor
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating
on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
Lastcalls for Arlequin
. / / /tr5 . . /. / /
Mjay for Midnight Judge
tr5/ midnightjudge /
Israfel by EAP
And the angel Israfel, whose
heart-strings are a lute, and
who has the sweetest voice
of all Gods creatures - KORAN
In heaven a spirit doth dwell
Whose heart-strings are a lute
None sing so wildly well
As the angel Israfel,
And the giddy stars so legends tell,
Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell
Of his voice, all mute.
Tottering above
In her highest noon,
The enamoured moon
Blushes with love,
While, to listen, the red levin
With the rapid Pleiads, even,
Which were seven,
Pauses in heaven.
And they say the starry choir
And the other listening things
That Israfelis fire
Is owing to that lyre
By which he sits and sings -
The trembling living wire
Of those unusual strings.
But the skies that angel trod,
Where deep thoughts are a duty -
Where Loves a grown-up God -
Where the Houri glances are
Imbued with all the beauty
Which we worship in a star.
Therefore, thou art not wrong,
Israfeli, who despisest
An unimpassioned song
To thee the laurels belong,
Best bard, because the wisest!
Merrily live, and long!
The ecstasies above
With thy burning measures suit -
Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love,
With the fervour of thy lute -
Well may the stars be mute!
Yes, Heaven is thine but this
Is a world sweets and sours
Our flowers are merely - flowers,
And the shadow of thy perfect bliss
Is the sunshine of ours.
If I could dwell
Where Israfel
Hath dwelt, and he where I,
He might not sing so wildly well
A mortal melody,
While a bolder note than this might swell
From my lyre within the sky.
New User for Arlequin
----- tr5rmrs:
Poes Land for Diamond Darrel
tr5rmrs/ /
P o e s L a n d C i r c e W H Q
/ P u n g a s W H Q
The City in the Sea by EAP
Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and
the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
Time-eaten towers that tremble not!
Resemble noting that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
No rays from the holy heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently -
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free -
Up domes - up spires - up kingly halls -
Up fanes - up Babylon-like walls -
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers -
Up many and many a marvelous shrine
Whose wreathd friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.
There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves
But not the riches there that lie
In each idols diamond eye -
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along the wilderness of glass -
No swelling tell that the winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea -
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.
But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave - there is movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide -
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow -
The hours are breathing faint and low -
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.
Pungas for PVM
o / / o
/www.pvm.net / ! p U N G 4 s ! //tr5
o
o
Stats for Volatile
/ / /tr5
Eldorado by EAP
Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.
But he grew old-
This knight so bold-
And oer his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.
And, as his strengh
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow-
Shadow, said he,
Where can it be-
This land of Eldorado?
Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly, ride,
The shade replied,-
If you seek for Eldorado.
Tim Drake for Tim Drake
t i m d r a k e /
/ // /tr5
Wake up Dead for Bergus
:: o /
:::::::::::::: . . o
wake the fuck up . ::
D E A D /. /.
. :: -o+b bergus ..........tr5rmrs........ .
A Dream Within a Dream by EAP
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow -
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream
Yet if Hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand -
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep - while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
The End
Thanks for your time
Truman Starr pato@antisocial.com
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