fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
2007-10-20 07:19 pm
Entry tags:

the only proper answer

 
where we belong is not in this old place
we tell ourselves in accents of a child
for what we have seems far too tame and mild

i search for recognition of each face
time is not yet so easily beguiled
where we belong is not in this old place

what is the world must also be the case
the fact and value shall be reconciled
and each event have been securely styled
where we belong is not in this old place

we send our messages to the new king
he does not listen to our sacred word
the line between safe and profane is blurred

yet swifter messengers are on the wing
that we should be ignored is just absurd
we send our messages to the new king

great enterprises will tomorrow bring
some other options we would have preferred
but with our choices all now have concurred
we send our messages to the new king

to rise in anger takes much more than will
folk on safe courses rarely seek to turn
even when others their goodwill may spurn

there are so many charges on the bill
more than a king could ever think to earn
to rise in anger takes much more than will

to take the castle on the final hill
cities must fall and villages shall burn
greater than us we quickly shall inurn
to rise in anger takes far more than will

regard the mighty as they face their fall
the lies they uttered better men had told
but now they face the fury and the cold

none of the great ones for now will stand tall
not one of them is either brave or bold
regard the mighty as they face their fall

the king must answer when the people call
for men and women weigh far more than gold
nor may their suffrages be bought and sold
regard the mighty as they face their fall

we regard power as one more form of grief
expect the worst of any who take rule
or you will end up face down in the pool

there is no trust in master nor in chief
they do not teach this now in any school
we regard power as one more form of grief

the truth we tell you is never too brief
we can the complex message here unspool
the one who serves is by no means a fool
we regard power as one more form of grief

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
2007-10-12 06:01 pm
Entry tags:

not in bright armour

voice of the dragon that so loudly calls
we hear it and we do not understand
what sort of creature comes upon the land

the king drinks deeply in his ancient halls
around him still carouse a noble band
voice of the dragon that so loudly calls

before next summer winter's horror falls
against the firedrake not a man will stand
for all his armour and his boastings grand
voice of the dragon that so loudly calls

the knight who would have ridden to the cave
answered the riddle and retrieved the gold
his bones are scattered on the mountain cold

and all of us from king right down to slave
know what the price has been for acting bold
the knight who would have ridden to the care

in such a time would any rise to save
the fearful land and in honour grow old
you know what tale has many times been told
the knight who would have ridden to the cave

the final hero is of humbler kind
the one who's chosen as the expert thief
in whose sharp eyes few seem to have belief

the keepers of the land are in a bind
they fear that there will not come swift relief
the final hero is of humbler kind

so many options but none come to mind
all might have ended with another grief
but fortune spoke and we have crowned a chief
the final hero is of humbler kind

others may tell the story in their way
gilding the truth and shining up the fact
reciting verse with heady action packed

just how the hero did the dragon slay
while hard with pains and horrors he was racked
others may tell the story in their way

the climax comes on just such a bright day
as when we saw the citadel attacked
but we are overcome with decent tact
others may tell the story in their way

 
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
2007-06-20 04:57 pm
Entry tags:

time for thought

i haven't had a chance to think
about the way to get things done
i take my weight and then i run

the whole of life is on the brink
of some revealing gift of fun
i haven't had a chance to think

all we can do is eat and drink
anything more will our brains stun
nothing remains beneath the sun
i haven't had a chance to think