From nobody Sat Aug 3 23:49:26 2002 Path: central.thestarport.org!not-for-mail From: steve@theStarport.org (Stephen R. Savitzky) Newsgroups: alt.callahans,alt.kalbo Subject: TOAST: Amethyst Rose: 12 Date: 03 Aug 2002 23:48:11 -0700 Organization: Grand Central Starport Lines: 94 Sender: steve@moseisley.thestarport.org Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: moseisley.thestarport.org Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii User-Agent: Gnus/5.09 (Gnus v5.9.0) Emacs/21.2 Xref: central.thestarport.org alt.callahans:610040 alt.kalbo:4618 "The usual, Mike," says the Mandelbear, and puts a dollar on the bar. Mike puts a glass of genever in his hand; he takes a sip. His fractal guise falls slowly away, leaving a grey-haired man dressed all in black. "Doing OK this year?" "Better, thanks. I've been a little depressed lately, but tonight -- I guess that every year gets better. The sorrow never goes away, you know, and I wouldn't want it to, but the pain recedes. I'm comfortable with it now; comfortable with the part it plays in my life. I have a place I can go now, when things get really bad." He gestures vaguely; an X-window opens out on a long-familiar scene: a little glade in a forest made of stone. In it stands a bush with leaves of dark- green jade; on it grows a single, crystalline, purple rose. A smaller window briefly shows a woman, her eyes the color of the grey dawn sky, with a touch of sunlit gold. On her breast she wears a little amethyst carved in the shape of a rose, set on a stem of silver. He drinks down most of the gin, and steps to the chalk line. "Twelve years ago I was in the hospital with Colleen, waiting for our second child to be born -- stillborn. She was born in the early morning of August 4th; I've come here every year since then, to raise a glass in her memory: Amethyst Rose." He drains the glass and hurls it into the fire. Blue flames play about the shards. He walks past table 28-X, where the AI's and inanimates hang out. Dust lies heavy on the battered guitar case there; it's been long since the Bear did much singing in the Place. But the little mahogany Martin is light in his hand, and whispers a happy chord in welcome. He adjusts a side-door and walks out, leaving it open for those who wish to hear. Outside is a desert and the stumps of a petrified forest; the night is cool and filled with glittering stars. "I wrote this today; the tune is a little unsettled, I'm afraid. It will have to do." For Amy Copyright 2002 Stephen Savitzky. All rights reserved. For Amethyst Rose (1990) I sometimes have spoken about you But I never did write you a song; It's not that I ever forgot you, Though between us the years have grown long, But now after all that I've been through, the heartache, the laughter, the tears, I'm singing a song for my Amethyst Rose Who's waited for so many years. The flowers of summer are shattered Their stems wrapped in shadow and frost, Their leaves and their petals wind-scattered, Reminders of all we have lost; But one stands alone and unbroken, No matter what bitter wind blows, Of love and remembrance a token, Forever, for Amethyst Rose. Though you never were more than a shadow Stillborn before you could live Still I've always been drawn to your darkness--- Even shadows have something to give. And whenever my dreams have been shattered, And sift through my fingers like sand It's then I remember my Amethyst Rose And dream you are holding my hand. I dream of a petrified forest And gaze at a stone, silent glade Where one crystal flower stands blooming, Her stems and her leaves of green jade; Obsidian thorns sharp as sorrow, And when I've been forgotten for years, Still there in the twilight my Amethyst Rose Will be blooming, untarnished by tears. Most recent version: http://thestarport.org/people/steve/Doc/Songs/for-amy.html He returns the guitar to its case, pats it gently, and walks back out through the forest. Far in the distance, sheltered by the dunes, a gypsy camp beckons with music and laughter; perhaps by the time he arrives he'll be ready to share. More likely, though, he will stay in the shadows, gazing into a forest glade that only he can see. -- / Steve Savitzky \ rw-rw-rw- : the file permissions of the beast \ / http://theStarport.com/people/steve/ \ \ hacker/songwriter: http://theStarport.com/people/steve/Doc/Songs/ \_ Kids' page: http://Interesting.Places.to/Browse/forKids/ _/ From nobody Sun Aug 4 17:43:28 2002 Path: central.thestarport.org!samba.rahul.net!rahul.net!a2i!wasp.rahul.net!HSNX.atgi.net!logbridge.uoregon.edu!newsfeed.stanford.edu!postnews1.google.com!not-for-mail From: GreenMonk@juno.com (GreenMonk) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: TOAST: Amethyst Rose: 12 Date: 4 Aug 2002 07:08:08 -0700 Organization: http://groups.google.com/ Lines: 99 Message-ID: <1b6482fd.0208040608.4816f43d@posting.google.com> References: NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.118.42.24 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-Trace: posting.google.com 1028470088 4806 127.0.0.1 (4 Aug 2002 14:08:08 GMT) X-Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com NNTP-Posting-Date: 4 Aug 2002 14:08:08 GMT Xref: central.thestarport.org alt.callahans:610091 steve@theStarport.org (Stephen R. Savitzky) wrote in message news:... > "The usual, Mike," says the Mandelbear, and puts a dollar on the bar. > Mike puts a glass of genever in his hand; he takes a sip. His fractal > guise falls slowly away, leaving a grey-haired man dressed all in > black. > > "Doing OK this year?" > > "Better, thanks. I've been a little depressed lately, but tonight -- I > guess that every year gets better. The sorrow never goes away, you > know, and I wouldn't want it to, but the pain recedes. I'm comfortable > with it now; comfortable with the part it plays in my life. I have a > place I can go now, when things get really bad." He gestures vaguely; > an X-window opens out on a long-familiar scene: a little glade in a > forest made of stone. In it stands a bush with leaves of dark- green > jade; on it grows a single, crystalline, purple rose. > > A smaller window briefly shows a woman, her eyes the color of the grey > dawn sky, with a touch of sunlit gold. On her breast she wears a little > amethyst carved in the shape of a rose, set on a stem of silver. > > He drinks down most of the gin, and steps to the chalk line. "Twelve > years ago I was in the hospital with Colleen, waiting for our second > child to be born -- stillborn. She was born in the early morning of > August 4th; I've come here every year since then, to raise a glass in > her memory: Amethyst Rose." > > He drains the glass and hurls it into the fire. Blue flames play about > the shards. He walks past table 28-X, where the AI's and inanimates > hang out. Dust lies heavy on the battered guitar case there; it's been > long since the Bear did much singing in the Place. But the little > mahogany Martin is light in his hand, and whispers a happy chord in > welcome. > > He adjusts a side-door and walks out, leaving it open for those who wish > to hear. Outside is a desert and the stumps of a petrified forest; the > night is cool and filled with glittering stars. "I wrote this today; > the tune is a little unsettled, I'm afraid. It will have to do." > > For Amy > Copyright 2002 Stephen Savitzky. All rights reserved. > For Amethyst Rose (1990) > > I sometimes have spoken about you > But I never did write you a song; > It's not that I ever forgot you, > Though between us the years have grown long, > But now after all that I've been through, > the heartache, the laughter, the tears, > I'm singing a song for my Amethyst Rose > Who's waited for so many years. > > The flowers of summer are shattered > Their stems wrapped in shadow and frost, > Their leaves and their petals wind-scattered, > Reminders of all we have lost; > But one stands alone and unbroken, > No matter what bitter wind blows, > Of love and remembrance a token, > Forever, for Amethyst Rose. > > > Though you never were more than a shadow > Stillborn before you could live > Still I've always been drawn to your darkness--- > Even shadows have something to give. > And whenever my dreams have been shattered, > And sift through my fingers like sand > It's then I remember my Amethyst Rose > And dream you are holding my hand. > > I dream of a petrified forest > And gaze at a stone, silent glade > Where one crystal flower stands blooming, > Her stems and her leaves of green jade; > Obsidian thorns sharp as sorrow, > And when I've been forgotten for years, > Still there in the twilight my Amethyst Rose > Will be blooming, untarnished by tears. > > Most recent version: > http://thestarport.org/people/steve/Doc/Songs/for-amy.html > > > He returns the guitar to its case, pats it gently, and walks back out > through the forest. Far in the distance, sheltered by the dunes, a > gypsy camp beckons with music and laughter; perhaps by the time he > arrives he'll be ready to share. More likely, though, he will stay in > the shadows, gazing into a forest glade that only he can see. Monk hurls his glass into the fireplace. <<>> Monk, That was Zen, This is Tao Take the Eccentric Survey - http://www.smotu.org/JamesFE/ SciFiTVFans Portal - http://www.scifitvfans.com/ Brainsludge - a domain in search of a purpose - http://www.brainsludge.com/ From nobody Sun Aug 4 17:43:35 2002 Path: central.thestarport.org!samba.rahul.net!rahul.net!a2i!wasp.rahul.net!64.214.31.68.MISMATCH!nntp1.phx1.gblx.net!nntp.gblx.net!nntp.gblx.net!nntp.abs.net!cpk-news-hub1.bbnplanet.com!cambridge1-snf1.gtei.net!news.gtei.net!bos-service1.ext.raytheon.com!cyclone.swbell.net!easynews!nntp2.aus1.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!nntp3.aus1.giganews.com!bin4.nnrp.aus1.giganews.com.POSTED!not-for-mail Message-ID: <3D4D375E.F017BAFA@comcast.net> From: Kat & Kent Organization: Argosy X-Mailer: Mozilla 4.79 [en] (Windows NT 5.0; U) X-Accept-Language: en MIME-Version: 1.0 Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: TOAST: Amethyst Rose: 12 References: Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-GC-Trace: gv1-SjgzINkIFIiJaatX8OiNtutPU+iIeGigXgw Lines: 18 NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 04 Aug 2002 09:17:04 CDT X-Trace: sv3-1E5UNAbkXHf+20hIShjaooH7mjRyPywgIgtf4O78o5+bVWFt322MFQ5qcqDhltx9EYnGLDJ3EBaaOhV!HZ1r8RneHEc238eFeSHL15QgHkEDn3dDcnuxRlc5uwNyMpbGqNajZwxPxwyZ76M= X-Complaints-To: abuse@comcast.com X-DMCA-Complaints-To: dmca@comcast.net X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Please be sure to forward a copy of ALL headers X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Otherwise we will be unable to process your complaint properly X-Postfilter: 1.1 Date: Sun, 04 Aug 2002 14:17:04 GMT Xref: central.thestarport.org alt.callahans:610092 "Stephen R. Savitzky" wrote: > > "The usual, Mike," says the Mandelbear, and puts a dollar on the bar. > Mike puts a glass of genever in his hand; he takes a sip. His fractal > guise falls slowly away, leaving a grey-haired man dressed all in > black. > He returns the guitar to its case, pats it gently, and walks back out > through the forest. Far in the distance, sheltered by the dunes, a > gypsy camp beckons with music and laughter; perhaps by the time he > arrives he'll be ready to share. More likely, though, he will stay in > the shadows, gazing into a forest glade that only he can see. Kat flings a glass into the fireplace. "Never forget" Kat