Mar. 23rd, 2007

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

the message does not go it is delayed
by what i cannot tell almost in rage
i seek a different path a better page
nothing appears to come to my aid
patience falters and temper's frayed
but that seems normal at this final stage
my spirit stalks like a tiger in its cage
while in and out there's a constant parade
nothing suffices to clear a tired head
help was promised but did not arrive
the panic in my heart's a heavy load
it's easy in this place for anger fed
by closing walls to keep itself alive
each stoppage acts like a most fiery goad

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

names of the dead sounds of the distant city
our task of memory is the sharpest goad
not anger now but sorrow and deep pity

the message is most clear the impact gritty
the weight of grief we cannot yet unload
names of the dead sounds of the distant city

the voices deep and gentle in their ditty
have on our recollection grace bestowed
not anger now but sorrow and deep pity

we know the answers given by committee
to all that happened there's no secret code
names of the dead sounds of the distant city

now after a long wait we may wax witty
but strong emotion haunts every abode
not anger now but sorrow and deep pity

we listen as the music makes all pretty
rounds out our sadness sends out on the road
names of the dead sounds of the distant city
not anger now but sorrow and deep pity

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

motion of planets
the long cycle announces
time for new growing

even in this place
i feel the new fire raging
blossoms gold and red

regardless of date
we know the truth of seasons
the old blazing sun

light green refreshes
eyes weary of the winter
rejoicing music

in the end we know
the liberation of hope
plastic our feeling

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fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
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