fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 our meanings come from choices handed down

by those who built the towers and raised the sky

the folk who farmed the fields and filled the town

who'd made the horrid trip and did not die

their long hope was back to lost home to fly

but all the horrors made their footsteps slow

while home was lost in the far eastern glow

they had their duties and their constant care

and all the many pains we cannot know

all changed with dessalines at vertières


so much depends upon a simple frown

a gesture or a winking of the eye

to  make disaster or to grant renown

turn all our wishes into one great lie

or  send us each to the last great good-bye

by means of one most massive mortal blow

that bursts the normal cheery human flow

and sends us hurtling to the upper air

until that moment all had seemed too slow

all changed with dessalines at vertières


the human is a move from verb to noun

a chance to prove that we can best rely

upon the one who could not play the clown

but was the stalwart soul who did not cry

under the lash but rather chose to fly

with the fresh dawn and the new morning glow

the day of history when all would know

just what we were and how much we would dare

to do when we came up from down below

all changed with dessalines at vertières


prince you have heard your men were far too slow

to face our wrath and take the angry blow

that meant our freedom in the open air

do not be angry for you could not know

the outcome would be more than a tableau

all changed with dessalines at vertières

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
what choices made by those who cannot trust
the common way or ordinary mode
we leave them be to do those things we must
in order to secure a safer road
for those without the wit to know the code
but ready still to answer when we call
we do not want the foolish to appal
but all things take their own time to unfold
we leave it to the madman to stand tall
and scorn the silver when we get the gold

the things we value all soon turn to dust
the safest place in fury may explode
and calmest fellows show a deep bloodlust
or show more courage than has been bestowed
on normal folk now when we find the load
is neither one that's easy nor that's small
only a fool would stop and shout and bawl
but learning duty doing what you're told
is proper caution just avoid the brawl
and scorn the silver when we get the gold

we don't want all our efforts to go bust
the wisest rooster's not the one that crowed
too early that one's warm beneath the crust
too slow and all our wisdom may corrode
in fuming acid or so we forebode
the horse must come forth steady out of stall
ready to do its job and that is all
that we should expect let the thing unfold
at a good pace between a run and crawl
and scorn the silver when we get the gold

prince as you sit in your proud judgment-hall
you might not worry what's beyond the wall
yet you'd be safer not to be as bold
as one who does not think he'd ever fall
better to concentrate on the long haul
and scorn the silver when we get the gold


fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

March 2015

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