Jul. 29th, 2007

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
flat declaration here we end the known
what's to be found beyond we cannot know
all that is desert right here ends the sown
flat declaration here we end the known

each exile like a postal sack is thrown
and told that now they must get up and go
flat declaration here we end the known
what's to be found beyond we cannot know

the world is round and time moves very slow
perhaps they'll make it back another way
for now they get a final ringing blow
the world is round and time moves very slow

in only one direction do things flow
what we do here nobody would call play
the world is round and time moves very slow
perhaps they'll make it back another way

we see the same conditions every day
our sense of humour has been torn and blown
we are not cheered by any solar ray
we see the same conditions every day

so in conclusion then you must away
and trust your life to things that are unknown
we see the same conditions every day
our sense of humour has been torn and blown

refusal

Jul. 29th, 2007 12:38 pm
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
you stand upon the hill and simply wait
for what you cannot tell but know it comes
down in the valley all life throbs and hums
and yet you know that's not your proper state
some sense of presence announces a fate
better than this one richer than sweet plums
a billion hearts are echoing the drums
change has to come at its own earnest rate
promise of time that everything will be
just what you wanted when the day began
leads you to hope of a far different land
where wisdom will sit down beneath each tree
you'll comprehend the nature of the plan
and fairy figures take you by the hand

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
in a clear dream we see all things made right
the world is brought to order with a shock
it trembles though it's founded upon rock

we see our world as caught in a long night
where those who hate us laugh and jeer and mock
in a clear dream we see all things made right

rather than using all our force and might
we weep and let the key turn in the lock
we cannot act we can't even take stock
in a clear dream we see all things made right

cosmology

Jul. 29th, 2007 02:24 pm
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

all known and unknown come down to a point
worlds all imaginary yet quite real
the one who promises we won't anoint
all known and unknown come down to a point

all times and places have gone out of joint
not one of us can agree to the deal
all known and unknown come down to a point
worlds all imaginary yet quite real

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

shadow of stone defined by painful light
we face this future with our hearts all blind
the rules once taught us come out less than kind
the truth's not found with ordinary sight
all of us here are bound in the same plight
not to keep any treasure that we find
nor to develop any seeking mind
but merely to be ready for the rite
we don't desire any cheers or applause
just complete silence as we here depart
not knowing if we ever shall return
it doesn't matter if we've got a cause
nor even if we've mastered any art
we load our bags look forward and then burn

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

what we intend is more than what we say
and yet we cannot measure the effect
of thought when words are in the light of day
what we intend is more than what we say

no answer ever comes to make us stay
truth intervenes in what we should reject
what we intend is more than what we say
and yet we cannot measure the effect

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
you make the rules but cannot make them stick
many refuse the laws that you enact
the temple's made of mud and not of brick
you make the rules but cannot make them stick

a little elbow grease won't do the trick
no one believes the need to be exact
you make the rules but cannot make them stick
many refuse the laws that you enact

it's not a dispute over truth or fact
your power's a thing of magic and of chance
the world's not written like a simple tract
it's not a dispute over truth or fact

you wait and others just cannot react
in all the ways you want them to advance
it's not a dispute over truth or fact
your power's a thing of magic and of chance

around the fields you watch the young ones prance
there's none apart from you who will say nay
they do not give you a mere backward glance
around the fields you watch the young ones prance

there's something missing when you join the dance
but what it is not one of us will say
around the fields you watch the young ones prance
there's none apart from you who will say nay

in joining with us when we praise the day
you give your noble hand an angry flick
as if to deny we share the same clay
in joining with us when you praise the day

you want to leave you never want to stay
fearing that we your vaunted pride will nick
in joining with us when we praise the day
you give your noble hand an angry flick

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
a sudden pleasure after the hard rain
calm that arrives in stillness of the air
something that in the summer seems quite rare
the world's a better place when things are plain
this is not anything we can explain
it's never simple to just sit and stare
we have to understand and have to care
the world unites us in the heart of pain
seeing the changes and noting the scent
of air that's cleansed and freed of all constraint
we feel the need to say it's an advance
beyond the sentiment that it was meant
what we behold is fresh and free of taint
the gentle colours summon us to dance

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 
reason tells us just what we cannot do
a host of arguments that tell us no
a list of places where we cannot go

we seek always to change and renew
but can't avoid the sharpest telling blow
reason tells us just what we cannot do

too many choices and we won't get through
logic sets bounds on what we truly know
forcing our minds to shudder and to slow
reason tells us just what we cannot do

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

safer than you might think but not so clear
comes in like tiny cat on silent feet
this being of the lower heavy air
safer than you might think but not so clear

the world we face is happy and not drear
but joy arriving in those we may meet
safer than you might think but not so clear
comes in like tiny cat on silent feet

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

when we have made the circle then we stop
like a swift snake we swallow our own tail
laughing as others keep on talking shop
when we have made the circle then we stop

not winning does not mean we curse the crop
others should never suffer when we fail
when we have made the circle then we stop
like a swift snake we swallow our own tail

Profile

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
fledgist

March 2015

S M T W T F S
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22 232425262728
29 3031    

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags