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About Literature / Hobbyist Core Member Fragano LedgisterMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 11 Years
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Newest Deviations

Literature
come wind come weather
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
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Literature
crossing rivers

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
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Literature
dessalines at vertieres

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 of one most massive mortal blow
that bursts the normal cheery human flow
and sends us hurtling to the upper air
until that moment all had seemed too slow
all changed with dessalines at vertières
the human is a move from verb to noun
a chance to prove that we can best rely
upon the one who could not play the clown
but was the stal
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Literature
clearer paradigm

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
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Literature
the turning of the wheel

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 spring of steel
yet still the while some fool will strain to fart
no matter what we say we do not feel
instead we wait the turning of the wheel
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Literature
no astrology

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
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Literature
human wit

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
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Literature
the world goes down

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 was gold is brown
this is the truth where hero becomes clown
you have to flee before the city burns
we hit the wall and then the world goes down
for all we’ve done what once was gold is brown
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Literature
the final mark

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
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Literature
the last republic

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
by those who thought that the most decent shammed
their honest words and strutted on a stage
our hearts with humour and with pain are crammed
in the republic of the wholly dammed
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Literature
a universal rite

we fall so far that the first sign of light
awakens us to shaking and to pain
not ready but we face it all again
there was no comfort in the arms of night
we got it wrong so gelid is our plight
yet these are things that no one need explain
each is quite normal not a one's arcane
for suffering's a universal rite
what each must do is take up the hard load
of human courage as if it were new
and clasp it tightly without much regret
accept that this is one rough stony road
that comes with  sorrow and no good long view
and all is paid with labour and cold sweat
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Literature
uncertain of our flame

name after name recorded on the wall
a sombre history of the long crime
against us all now fading into time
made by those giants who to us seem small
through urgent years when little could appal
our fervent thoughts when worlds were at their prime
(so we believed) yet we feared the dark slime
that seemed to lurk awaiting our long fall
now it’s the turn of those who would proclaim
a better day and shout it very loud
so even the ancestors could rejoice
but we who are uncertain of our flame
no longer urgent and no more as proud
are not so eager to exalt our voice
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Literature
hot august day

there are deep echoes across the dry wall
so sky seems brassy and bereft of cloud
while goat is nimble and tempts you to fall
to stony death where no one will recall
how once you were so youthful and so proud
there are deep echoes across the dry wall
where the old vultures circle seeing all
the land below them forested or ploughed
while goat is nimble and tempts you to fall
from narrow path your heart now seems so small
and fate so large the silence seems so loud
there are deep echoes across the dry wall
the distant birds across the sky now scrawl
in ragged letters on the small puffy cloud
while goat is nimble and tempts you to fall
into forever certain none will bawl
the earth itself will be your only shroud
there are deep echoes across the dry wall
while goat is nimble and tempts you to fall
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Literature
lash and chain

where no salvation comes from a dead lord
we're cast adrift and there's no guiding star
no symbol serves to act as luminar
and we have taken a strange one aboard
as sign and seal in these realms unexplored
of all our dangers yet we're not so far
beyond the norms of everyday devoir
but have paid more than mortals can afford
we asked for honesty and got hard stone
straight in the face nothing could be so plain
but to push onward is the single choice
that folk of honour have bred in the bone
regardless of the threat of lash and chain
or whether the old villains will rejoice
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Literature
for emancipation day

no count of years may still the hand of fate
but yet the kindly sunrise eases pain
as those who fought arise to fight again
with little rancour and without debate
for once removed the horrors cease to grate
on any soul and there’s no longer strain
when each of us can see the future plain
and know that we’re the owners of the state
this is the promise made by those who sleep
beneath our soil whose lives gave ours full worth
that a bright morning would our people see
not as a flock of tired and hungry sheep
but as a folk in fullest time of mirth
enjoying every taste of liberty
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Literature
this is indeed a great war

so all we hear today is cannons’ boom
their echo forms our terrible surround
for this whole century the world’s a tomb
it isn’t that we just ran out of room
for good intentions our shots will redound
so all we hear today is cannons’ boom
from shore to shore and the explosives’ bloom
accompanied by their pervading sound
for this whole century the world’s a tomb
though skies are sunny we are cast in gloom
parents and children thrown into the mound
so all we hear today is cannons’ boom
perhaps in time some scholar will exhume
the reason why we all now lie in ground
for this whole century the world’s a tomb
and every hope has fallen down to doom
while goodness trust and honesty are bound
so all we hear today is cannons’ boom
for this whole century the world’s a tomb
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Favourites

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Literature
Lover on top of a mountain
They who scale mountains
content themselves with the feeling
of love, not confirmed
with action. They can fly the arrow- never mistake- truer
than any romantic. But
height is a lofty mistress, and the
keenness of the wind is
ever seductive, because it whistles
the story clearly that gets
mangled below.
Who -wants- to get mangled?
We are not beasts of burden, even if
we've worn this fur for thousands of years.
To dive from the clean, clean edge into
chaos is unthinkable.
To frolic among the tumbling bodies
and risk trampling and being trampled
is enough to curl back and reach
for the highminded pleasures
of love
Oh, but such a dream
veiling a cliff's face
eventually reveals itself to
appear only to those who
fall from the sky. So the lover
spends all her time devising paths
of climbing
to those below. She braids the ropes
and drops the chains, even taking a sledgehammer
to the rocks for a perilous winding road
but the danger she
undermines, and it is
few who exceed the intimacy of
faraw
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Nose Princess, Nez by PuttaManJL
Mature content
Nose Princess, Nez :iconputtamanjl:PuttaManJL 3 10
Bananas of Our Lives by PuttaManJL
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K'on an' K'naan by PuttaManJL
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Mature content
RAO- 00536 :iconputtamanjl:PuttaManJL 4 7
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Activity


I note that the total number of deviations has hit 3,000. I seem to be extremely deviant. Or something of the sort.

Merry Xmas to all, and to all a good night.
  • Listening to: BBC Radio 3
  • Reading: Caribbean Culture: Soundings on Edward Brathwaite
  • Watching: the screen
  • Playing: nothing
  • Eating: nothing
  • Drinking: rum

deviantID

Fledgist's Profile Picture
Fledgist
Fragano Ledgister
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Current Residence: Zeta Reticuli
Favourite genre of music: Classical
Favourite photographer: Ansel Adams
Favourite style of art: innocuous
Operating System: Lymphatic
MP3 player of choice: iPod
Shell of choice:Nautilus
Wallpaper of choice: coloured
Skin of choice: mine
Favourite cartoon character: Bucky Katt
Personal Quote: Politics is a matter of drilling through hard boards
Interests

Friends

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Comments


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:icondillonisadumbass:
dillonisadumbass Featured By Owner Nov 30, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
your poetry is beautiful
Reply
:iconfledgist:
Fledgist Featured By Owner Dec 1, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for your kind words.
Reply
:icontenpikino:
Tenpikino Featured By Owner Apr 2, 2013
I've read quite a bit of your work and I have really enjoyed your style and form that has plenty of rigor and imagination. Thanks.
Reply
:iconfledgist:
Fledgist Featured By Owner Apr 4, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks so much for your kind words. They are much appreciated.
Reply
:iconjochannon:
jochannon Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2011
Hello. I am a publisher, and I'm looking for readers to join my free mailing list. Check out my journal with the details: [link]
Reply
:iconanimagus716:
animagus716 Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2010
Happy Belated birthday my friend!!!

Love,

Simone
Reply
:iconfledgist:
Fledgist Featured By Owner Sep 4, 2010  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you.
Reply
:icongarnet-43:
Garnet-43 Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2010
Thanks for the comments, and the :+fav: s! Greatly appreciated! :boogie:
Reply
:icongarnet-43:
Garnet-43 Featured By Owner Mar 7, 2010
Thanks for the :+fav: !
Reply
:iconpixelfish:
pixelfish Featured By Owner May 11, 2009  Professional Interface Designer
Hello, Fledgist....I believe I've seen you around in various LJ and other discussions. I'm glad you enjoyed my octopus sketch. :)
Reply
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