Fledgist

across the silences these words are true that answer sorrow with with a worthy smile but will not pause to soften nor revile your efforts nor the feelings that are due this passing day what is it we review among the many sights that might beguile each voyager who reaches this last mile is that the known provides us with a clue some would be said to answer that the day is not sufficient for all that we need but we must struggle onwards into night actors and viewers of the self-same play not certain if our desperation’s greed but ever hopeful we can get things right

 where crossing rivers can be made to count against the value of all we hold dear in spite of all that’s known at the frontier where hope and learning are held paramount no one would wait on those who’d dare remount for the long journey of the pioneer made by the awkward and the most sincere who have their truths to keep and to recount no voyage matters this at last we learn except to those who never need the map the ones excepted from each changing trend those are the masters who will always yearn to hear our answer yet not give a rap since all must come out equal in the end

our meanings come from choices handed down by those who built the towers and raised the sky the folk who farmed the fields and filled the town who'd made the horrid trip and did not die their long hope was back to lost home to fly but all the horrors made their footsteps slow while home was lost in the far eastern glow they had their duties and their constant care and all the many pains we cannot know all changed with dessalines at vertières so much depends upon a simple frown a gesture or a winking of the eye to  make disaster or to grant renown turn all our wishes into one great lie or  send us each to the last great good-bye by means

no evidence the world is bent in shape a bluish globe with wooly white of cloud the mountains form a contrast sharp and proud against the sea we note the golden cape while in the sky dark birds seem to escape the planetary force while winds are loud above the foam and yet we are uncowed though eyes are open and all mouths agape there is a reason we have reached this place and taken stock at the appropriate time for our authority to be compelled into new channels and a different space with better thought and clearer paradigm now that the party’s over and trial’s held

no matter what we say we do not feel the pain of others right inside each heart instead we wait the turning of the wheel for one more challenge for the last appeal which was presaged right at the very start no matter what we say we do not feel our hopes and urges have been brought to heel and the last hero laid upon a cart instead we wait the turning of the wheel to see the message and to take our meal in comfort all who come here will depart no matter what we say we do not feel we will start forward and then we will reel back down in sign that we have lacked the art instead we wait the turning of the wheel for what is good the last hard

where no man argues and no woman fights for good or evil we have reached an end of human battles and the stars portend no better indications as the nights close in we note their distant blinking lights as symbols we might faintly comprehend when we are whole but what the worlds intend is not a matter that we have to rights the argument of workers in the day or farmers when the wind upsets the trees is much the same as when we all were young to bring about the work without delay ignore the rain and not yield to the breeze since a strong back outdoes a silver tongue

where in the sunlight all the dirt's dispelled we take our leave then some will go to sleep their blankets piled upon them in a heap while in the forest all the spirits gelled anticipating that when we excelled at sport and art the answer would be deep but nothing holds there's no place here to keep our kindnesses the earth itself rebelled none can permit the law to be denied by those who are so bound to a far higher that their hard hands are in the moment lit by the illuminations of their pride the incandescence of a greater fire than can be understood by human wit

we hit the wall and then the world goes down into the dark and nothing good returns for all we’ve done what once was gold is brown as winter comes like satan into town all minds are numb just as the river churns we hit the wall and then the world goes down a sad destruction but no one will frown believing that we get what the thief earns for all we’ve done what once was gold is brown now skies are darker than a priestly gown for what one makes the other overturns we hit the wall and then the world goes down so no one stands for hope or for renown but gets instead just what the jackass earns for all we’ve done what once w

here on the boundary of truth and lie where ordinary magics have their rule underneath heaven permanently cool no one escapes nor is allowed to cry against the judgment of the steely sky since every human is at last a fool while failure is the final mark at school the arrow that will find each weeping eye all that we know amounts to waste of air on these strange days when we desire to feel the urgent courage of our better days but what we get is new return of care another revolution of the wheel and nothing better coming through the haze

our hearts with humour and with pain are crammed the world defies our choices and our rage in the republic of the wholly damned we spoke and then our thoughts were truly slammed by those who said that with keen words on page our hearts with humour and with pain are crammed the metre's right and the line's not enjambed yet all we get is a poor poet's wage in the republic of the wholly damned since for the moment the signal's not jammed so that the the enemy cannot engage our hearts with humour and with pain are crammed until they burst and our dead corpses rammed into the the dullest moments of the age in the republic of the wholly dammed