Nov. 22nd, 2007

a raw day

Nov. 22nd, 2007 04:18 pm
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

 if there's a means of holding firm in place
we've lost the art of balance without thought
our every moment with great fear is fraught
and each misfortune leaves its angry trace
we have no stopping point in deepest space
and nothing happens we have not been taught
still in the oldest trap we soon are caught
and pain declares its presence on each face
a bit of wind and leaves fly by in haste
to destinations that they do not know
but still the heavy cloud may give us rain
there's much we do that isn't to our taste
but we've been told to keep up with the flow
and stay in balance all the rest is plain

two words

Nov. 22nd, 2007 04:31 pm
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

 

two words
one hour
two birds
we cower

grey cloud
no time
head bowed
still crime

day turns
night's cold
soul burns
we're old

plain laws
same choice
old cause
rejoice

all days
wind down
some ways
we frown

at peace
no thought
wars cease
hope's caught

all sings
some prance
with wings
you'll dance

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 
we thank our stars that we've come through the day
few odds we had and chances seemed most slight
on tired feet still we have found the way

the soil is shallow on the hardpan clay
rocks and red stains our best efforts requite
we thank our stars that we've come through the day

all happier places seem so far away
what we do does not now demand much might
on tired feet still we have found the way

we see the sunset in the western bay
as in the east there comes the cooler night
we thank our stars that we've come through the day

we tell ourselves that we don't have to stay
and face each other in a hopeless fight
on tired feet still we have found the way

we make our work what children see as play
the largest serpent has the mildest bite
we thank our stars that we've come through the day
on tired feet still we have found the way

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

 what comes in night may be no mark of fear
all of our hours into one point combine
we do not ever follow a straight line

a thousand symbols speak to us of care
and will not let us our old pain refine
what comes in night may be no mark of fear

we soon will send off yet another year
and drown our memories in a bitter wine
that's not enough we seek now for a sign
what comes in night may be no mark of fear

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 
there's nothing that we want but all we need
is held in place by forces we detest
that's all there is you want us to show zest
but will not let us gather our own seed
the crop we take will not have all the speed
we hoped for so much is told in merest
desire for peace and calm there is no jest
to challenge those whose only plan is greed
alone we plot the end of all our pain
but cannot win against the changing tide
old night will haul us back into the mire
no noisy prayer will bring us healing rain
and we are ever on the losing side
but still we have the magic and the fire

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

 we tell it plain
and hear it bold
the words are old
but there's no strain
against the grain
the story's told
but in the fold
there's little pain
the nights are cold
winter again
we chase the train
fit in the mould
no bell is tolled
we reach the main
without a stain
we strike the gold

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

 i read the words and sigh
the pile does not go down
folly just goes to town
and horror's almost nigh
these expectations high
and every one a clown
my face is a set frown
i simply want to die

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