Mar. 12th, 2008

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 
there's never any secret in the dark
you find the journey's one that many make
the resolution so easy to take

dogs when well-fed have no reason to bark
and there are many ways their fast to break
there's never any secret in the dark

your feet are not the ones to find the mark
they know already just which path to take
and what the purpose is and for whose sake
there's never any secret in the dark

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 
you give it up as your claim is but slight
still only you could know just how to speak
it does not matter if you're in the right

pressure befalls from those who have the might
silence the place of those who know they're meek
you give it up as your claim is but slight

no one reports on what's a common plight
since all can see the situation's bleak
it does not matter if you're in the right

each waits for what will come at dead of night
and not a one would dare outside to peek
you give it up as your claim it but slight

the villain has forgotten how to write
and to the hero all has turned to greek
it does not matter if you're in the right

not one thing's left that's either black or white
each weapon falls from the hands of the weak
you give it up as your claim is but slight
it does not matter if you're in the right

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 given a choice you have to make it plain
no pleasant pastures lie beyond the wall
each of us has to wait for the spring rain

your duty's never to remove the stain
others may wish our charges to enthral
given a choice you have to make it plain

so many gods were worshipped at this fane
so many supplicants have made the crawl
each of us has to wait for the spring rain

the absent never find out what was slain
nor are the early always on the ball
given a choice you have to make it plain

you took the option and would not abstain
there is no feeling that would be too small
each of us has to wait for the spring rain

we slap a label on the normal pain
and do not listen to its mournful call
given a choice you have to make it plain
each of us has to wait for the spring rain

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
there's little profit in drawing the map
those who have knowledge don't forget the way
and only fools won't learn it in a day
you stand aside and simply praise and clap
let those who understand now bear the cap
and leave such matters to those who essay
not to attempt the difficult in play
and who won't fall into the first plain trap
wisdom's the course that only few can find
for older heads have got the sense to know
what youth discovers without any plan
that no door opens merely to the mind
and not all force is there simply for show
what's in the rear counts more than in the van

backyard

Mar. 12th, 2008 02:04 pm
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
yesterday has passed
wind slowly moves the branches
into tomorrow

phone call

Mar. 12th, 2008 02:28 pm
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 
you are right there across a measured space
your voice at call each time i touch the phone
your ready smile the warming of your tone
but what i can't have right now is your face
there's nothing i can do time to erase
and you'd be first to tell me not to moan
but still i miss you right down to the bone
the day's more torpid than a slug's slow pace
each of us has our tasks and has to wait
until the clock has turned and journey's made
our time together's paid in hours apart
and this is just the normal working fate
of those who have to sweat and make the grade
but still the rose is born within each heart

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
so dark that stars must scream out of the sky
these are the nights our ancestors had known
against that vision no room for the lie

we note the pallor of those now on high
in every heart the secret is a stone
so dark that stars must scream out of the sky

sharp is the blade that makes the tongue comply
and rough the face on which the wind has blown
against that vision no room for the lie

eager to please and to survive thereby
those who awake into this world have grown
so dark that stars must scream out of the sky

your normal viewer has turned out so shy
that all he does is bend his head and moan
against that vision no room for the lie

there's no place left to which the good may fly
each of us faces that hard fact alone
so dark the stars must scream out of the sky
against that vision no room for the lie

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 we watch the distant ships head out to sea
to unseen destinations stranger strands
we are the dwellers in the normal lands
and in our limits think ourselves most free
but no one speaks of what we hope to see
the workings of our parents' minds and hands
that in the end will break the oldest bands
and let us learn all that we're meant to be
nor bird nor fish need pause beside the shore
there are no bounds that any need to know
some shining marvel lies far past the wall
this and this only we cannot ignore
that each day's message is more than a show
and no one rises who won't risk a fall

victory

Mar. 12th, 2008 05:30 pm
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
aching remembrance of what's not all past
vision fades once you are through the door
leaving behind all pains that once you bore
nothing remains but signs of burn and blast
to show just where the heavy bombs were cast
no walls and towers can stand here anymore
we come on no force that we could abhor
and none of those that hate us could stand fast
where we have been is broken and unmade
those places where we go are to become
from waking dream the longed-for darling form
what we know rising out of deepest shade
on rhythm of the hearts slow beat of drum
all brought together despite weight of storm

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
we leave behind all that is calm and green
out in the complex world we measure hope
not knowing if or how our hearts may cope

there are so many actors on the scene
and little time is left to weep or mope
we leave behind all that is calm and green

what is to come is measured by what's been
the highest mountain by the gentle slope
each knows we have the full supply of rope
we leave behind all that is calm and green

 
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 
the seal is melted under the red fire
no interlude to mark the end of cold
no one in ages has leave to inspire

the sea and shore fight for the world entire
their battle was not settled by the bold
the seal is melted under the red fire

to no great sentiment could you aspire
the meaning was not set nor uncontrolled
no one in ages has leave to inspire

in all the shallows no one could perspire
we saw that all the papers were tight rolled
the seal is melted under the red fire

the cow and pig have piled dung at the byre
not one has cared that they have all been sold
no one in ages has leave to inspire

this message that i leave will turn out dire
i speak right now before i turn too old
the seal is melted under the red fire
no one in ages has leave to inspire

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fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
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