war story

Dec. 3rd, 2013 10:18 am
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 from mountains coloured by no faint regret

there's never pause to think we must be past

the urgent moment when we were beset

 

by what seemed armies that could not forget

the banner that was once seen on our mast

from mountains coloured by no faint regret

 

yet we must move to wait would be to fret

and patience is for those who have not passed

the urgent moment when we were beset

 

from every side but still would take the bet

against despair we could not be outclassed

from mountains coloured with no faint regret

 

each could discern what would not be upset

till beyond hope all pilgrims would hold fast

the urgent moment when we were beset

 

right at the point where all the roads had met

and journeys would have reached their end at last

from mountains coloured by no faint regret

the urgent moment when we were beset

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)


your choices come down fast to none at all

an echo of the truth is no reward

since none will hear you if you have to call

 

 

out through the darkness that shall swiftly fall

when hope and vengeance reach their first accord

your choices come down fast to none at all

 

 

a world once large has rapidly grown small

and all good options have gone by the board

since none will hear you if you have to call

 

 

so half the planet listens to this brawl

while all the others look away quite bored

your choices come down fast to none at all

 

 

you've lost the plot been cast beyond the wall

finding out now just what you had deplored

since none will hear you if you have to call

 

 

in utter silence you confront the squall

with all the energy you can afford

your choices come down fast to none at all

since none will hear you if you have to call

dead leaves

Nov. 1st, 2013 08:33 am
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 dead leaves piled up in the slow steady rain

their reds and yellows dull on the dark ground

so much of sorrow is already plain

 

 

to us who listen as the boughs complain

at the winds passage with a sighing sound

dead leaves piled up in the slow steady rain

 

 

are one more sign of life's passing campaign

against eternity this is one round

so much of sorrow is already plain

 

 

and we're the losers since we never gain

a single inch nor hope for a rebound

dead leaves piled up in the slow steady rain

 

 

are but the markers of our lost terrain

someone will come and heap them in a mound

so much of sorrow is already plain

 

 

it is reality nothing arcane

our normal vista not a thing profound

dead leaves piled up in the slow steady rain

so much of sorrow is already plain

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 when all the wars have ended we're bereft

of home and hope but have not yet been killed

so we construct a life from what is left

 

the new beginnings truly have no heft

all springs of old revival had been stilled

when all the wars have ended we're bereft

 

pained by misfortunes by our failures cleft

none can be certain of the truly willed

so we construct a life from what is left

 

of the old world knowing full well the deft

conversion to the new won't be distilled

when all the wars have ended we're bereft

 

of wisdom but we fear no further theft

our knowledge and our sorrow both fulfilled

so we construct a life from what is left

 

while in the dust the serpent and the eft

conduct their searches we must turn to build

when all the wars have ended we're bereft

so we construct a life from what is left

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 in the beginning we counted no cost

but went rejoicing into the warm rain

so now more grimly we face what we've lost

 

so many choices into the mix tossed

almost at random it all seemed so plain

in the beginning we counted no cost

 

as being worth waiting no text was glossed

for hidden messages all was just gain

so now more grimly we face what we've lost

 

a world more troubled a future star-crossed

no brilliant thoughts emerging from each brain

in the beginning we counted no cost

 

instead we are the ones who now are bossed

ordered about and marked with a sad stain

so now more grimly we face what we've lost

 

knowing that morning will see the first frost

that signals a new winter with its pain

in the beginning we counted no cost

so now more grimly we face what we've lost

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 now tell me that this moment is no lie

we mean to go one just as we began

to measure all the world within one eye

 

so that this magic will not make you cry

allow each of us to fulfill the plan

now tell me that this moment is no lie

 

since you have gained the trust and will not cry

for any reason there's a way to span

to measure all the world within one eye

 

we have been gifted with this will to try

for other countries where there is no ban

now tell me that this moment is no lie

 

that honour rises in the summer sky

with all the goodliness that we may scan

to measure all the world within one eye

 

in order that each heart may learn to fly

beyond the places where our feet first ran

now tell me that this moment is no lie

to measure all the world within one eye

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 in the bright morning under the free sun

all are now equal each of us may stand

glad in the knowledge that the lash is done

 

the times are over when we had to run

justice has entered where it once was banned

in the the bright morning under the free sun

 

a different type of journey has begun

when no one has the right of sole command

glad in the knowledge that the lash is done

 

we look around and see that we have won

so very much that all our words seem bland

in the bright morning under the free sun

 

what will become of us is known to none

but t we are ready and we understand

gland in the knowledge that the lash is done

 

and we have reached the point where everyone

must pause to sing then claim as theirs the land

in the bright morning under the free sun

glad in the knowledge that the lash is done

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 we are not measured rightly by good chance

our hopes are limitless but not our skin

there are no victors ever at this dance

 

they told us this was the time to advance

that all the old faults had been cast in bin

we are not measured rightly by good chance

 

our wounds will never let us jump or prance

and when we are related we're not kin

there are no victors ever at this dance

 

since it's a game whose players can enhance

their virtues best by adding to the din

we are not measured rightly by good chance

 

nor yet permitted to take up a stance

above the fray our only hope is sin

there are no victors ever at this dance

 

but there are still fools who think it romance

and who believe that there's a prize to win

we are not measured rightly by good chance

there are no victors ever at this dance

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 lacking all doubt choices unmade we scream

into the noon the sum of all our fears

not caring much about the weight of dream

 

on every several head until the beam

of milky light reveals the open tears

lacking all doubt choices unmade we scream

 

not only terrified but eyes agleam

with anger so this long hard tale of years

not caring much about the weight of dream

 

has caught each up in both the milk and cream

and blended in the message of our cares

lacking all doubt choices unmade we scream

 

all of our secrets in one clouded stream

while all around we feel the touch of stares

not caring much about the weight of dream

 

in middle day when the truth reigns supreme

denying mercy in the moveless airs

lacking all doubt choices unmade we scream

not caring much about the weight of dream

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 the voices that are loudest in the dark

need not be those on which we must depend

call on a hope that's ample and not stark

 

for which new voyage when we first embark

there's no clear meaning that we could intend

the voices which are loudest in the dark

 

are not the ones we first set out to mark

on whose loud booming our thoughts would perpend

call on a hope that's ample and not stark

 

that is the task of scholar priest and clerk

here now to master each unworldly trend

the voices that are loudest in the dark

 

will not be those who cannot just remark

on ordinary passage they must bend

call on a hope that's ample and not stark

 

allow the motion to ignite a spark

of true humanity before the end

the voices that are loudest in the dark

call on a hope that's ample and not stark

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 at istanbul the line is swift

faces are warm the world is here

we have the journey as our gift

 

all landed safe none cast adrift

no crisis left to engineer

at istanbul the line is swift

 

we're moved along all hearts must lift

as each direction comes out clear

we have the journey as our gift

 

no simple one so for our thrift

we've been repaid and very dear

at istanbul the line is swift

 

but none can say that they've been stiffed

as cost of entry will appear

we have the journey as our gift

 

though we come far and have to sift

through memories made everywhere

at istanbul the line is swift

we have the journey as our gift

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 the true republic lies beneath the sea

a single bound will take you straightway there

it's our first homeland where we were born free

 

look where the master will not let you see

far past the fictive kingdoms of the air

the true republic lies beneath the sea

 

no effort's needed for each one to flee

just leave right now and be at ease from care

it's our first homeland where we were born free

 

where we learnt justice at our mother's knee

return' so easy we just have to dare

the true republic lies beneath the sea

 

not far at all we note the mango tree

the purple bloom the old man on his chair

it's our first homeland where we were born free

 

the place of order where we long to be

and it is simple to end the affair

the true republic lies beneath the sea

it's our first homeland where we were born free

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 the seeking eye that even seems to speak

of urgent matters at an early time

is the best weapon wielded by the weak

 

not in the option given to the meek

to keep heads lowered as the sweet bells chime

the seeking eye that even seems to speak

 

looks through a wall apparently unique

but hidden in its recesses and grime

is the best weapon wielded by the weak

 

a simple tool not modern nor antique

whose users have come under in their prime

the seeking eye that even seems to speak

 

and not been frighted they are past critique

able to know just where in the long climb

is the best weapon wielded by the weak

 

those who are able find they are to peek

in hidden places for the true sublime

the seeking eye that even seems to speak

is the best weapon wielded by the weak

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 no one this day shall say they stood aloof

when the new rose first came into fresh flower

and none dared crush the bloom beneath a hoof

 

we would have faced a certain harsh reproof

no long before but all changed in an hour

no one this day shall say they stood aloof

 

nor that the entire fabric warp and woof

had stayed the same new blossom in each bower

and none dared crush the bloom beneath a hoof

 

for fear of learning just how great the goof

would harm the doer dread would them devour

no one this day shall say they stood aloof

 

the acts are real we see that there's no spoof

of change or meaning the old world we scour

and none dared crush the bloom beneath a hoof

 

today we saw the crowds from every roof

acclaim as honour took the seat of power

no one this day shall say they stood aloof

and none dared crush the bloom beneath a hoof

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
  

not only sounds but senses we require

to build the worlds in which our hearts will fit

all meanings in the end must add to fire

 

in order that we see that those who hire

the truth in stages do not crimes commit

not only sounds but senses we require

 

to bring our vision to a place that's higher

beyond the limits where the foolish sit

all meanings in the end must add to fire

 

when what comes after means we must retire

from all our options while the times permit

not only sounds but senses we require

 

for matters that will lead all to aspire

far past the normal so that atoms split

all meanings in the end must add to to fire

 

that is the certainty life is no liar

she's the true joker the mistress of wit

not only sounds but senses we require

all meanings in the end must add to fire

april

Apr. 11th, 2013 10:53 am
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 now spring appears all verdant on the scene

there's weight of dust and water in the air

all eyes are taken by the sudden green

 

the change of seasons never comes quite clean

but winter's going with one sort of care

now spring appears all verdant on the scene

 

to reassure us that the great machine

continues working now the signs are fair

all eyes are taken by the sudden green

 

the starting colours almost seem obscene

after the starkness yet we cannot fear

now spring appears all verdant on the scene

 

as roughnesses are covered by a screen

of leaves and blossoms and now we stare

all  eyes are taken by the sudden green

 

of trees and bushes that we had long seen

bare and asleep so now a new affair

now spring appears all verdant on the scene

all eyes are taken by the sudden green

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 call me a wimp and you will be a wreck

you stupid lad who tells tales out of school

just say the word i'll break your fucking neck

 

you seemed to think that nobody would check

the things you said that everything was cool

call me a wimp and you will be a wreck

 

you'll be destroyed naught left no single speck

and all they'll note is you were one more tool

just say the word i'll break your fucking neck

 

don't think i won't don't think i give a heck

for who you are or all the lies you drool

call me a wimp and you will be a wreck

 

so now you're silent now you hit the deck

full up with fear you've figured out the rule

just say the word i'll break your fucking neck

 

you have to understand that not a fleck

of pity will you get since you're the fool

call me a wimp and you will be a wreck

just say the word i'll break your fucking neck

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 all hearts are filled with horror and with dread

we've hit the boundary of human reach

out here in the republic of the dead

 

there's no necessity to get ahead

once we have heard the words of the last speech

all hearts are filled with horror and with dread

 

for this we struggled long to earn our bread

and bowed low as the vile old friars preach

out here in the republic of the dead

 

where are are equal in the weight of lead

but none will listen as the poor beseech

all hearts are filled with horror and with dread

 

at every sound that penetrates the head

while silent men walk up and down the beach

out here in the republic of the dead

 

where none dare speak and all the good are fled

and what we learnt no one could ever teach

all hearts are filled with horror and with dread

out here in the republic of the dead

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 we cannot grasp the current situation

our hands are not quite equal to the task

and comrade lenin's at the finland station

 

all sense has gone from leaders of the nation

while generals have all dived into flask

we cannot grasp the current situation

 

but know that it's no cause for celebration

as we have reached the bottom of the cask

and comrade lenin's at the finland station

 

we tried to impose rules of segregation

but found that there were things we could not ask

we cannot grasp the current situation

 

the masses do not give us admiration

while idle rulers on far beaches bask

and comrade lenin's at the finland station

 

we find there is no true accommodation

they've seen the monster face behind the mask

we cannot grasp the current situation

and comrade lenin's at the finland station

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 the garden’s keeper is the one who knows

the time of fruiting and the ways of light

the meanings of the lily and the rose

 

to all who pause to watch as each plant grows

in its true place as firm hands set it right

the garden's keeper is the one who knows

 

when to stay calm and just when to disclose

the secret word that guards from every blight

the meanings of the lily and the rose

 

that in their beds do far more than repose

for the pure delectation of our sight

the garden's keeper is the one who knows

 

the proper manner of setting the rows

to mimic motion and to arrest flight

the meanings of the lily and the rose

 

are not in words still less in strikes and blows

against the passage that leads into night

the garden's keeper is the one who knows

the meanings of the lily and the rose

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fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
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