frogcircus.org

the poetry of Charles Fry

post

2015–

defi

2009–2013

belle

2007–2002

dada

2002–1999

sundance

1999–1997

frere

1997–1995

julian

1995–1994

stone

1994–1993

3 December 1996

the day that I cried

Convulsing, coughing, choking,
on the too much water flowing into my lungs as I swallow the air bubbles.
My gills have given out and I can't filter in the oxygen.
Sadly I bend my head down and cry into the water as he steals my tears.
Are they saltier than he is I wonder as I watch them float away.
These stone shoes are so heavy but they are warm and comfortable
and the soles are riveted with diamonds that sparkle as I sink.

Dropping, sliding, gliding
into my happy silent home.
Tired and sleepy so all I lift is my fingers,
twirling me slowly, indifferently down.
Yawning I suck in the crystal water,
then blow it out in small warm rings.
Complacency overtakes me and I silently close my eyes.

The heat from the paved road burns my tender feet.
I raise my eyes and carefully trace the outline of my shadow
down the road and up a small hill where I can almost reach the sun.
Smiling I race forward in awkward strides then jump so high
and lift and stretch until my shadow's hand reaches the sun
and then pulls it in and cuddles it so tight against my weeping body
that it burns into my soul and evaporates my falling tears before they touch the ground.

 forgotten memories   of being burned at the stake   sweet dreams   sharing   hand-in-hand   the stranger   hidden courtyards   holding You   princess   happy day   loneliness   fragile, handle with care   my small trip to the cement factory   dedication   this record is for You   the day that I cried   Last night I woke up under my bed.   my silver Dancing shoes   Man my heart tears.   the three things   strait jackeght   like you   abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz   Fire cooks me   Princess Alexandra:  A Little Story   cats up cat twice   sweet rain water   little children   my heart   How blind I am in wooden glasses.   I know she's crying cause it stains her voice,   Dear Family,   I pound at my heart   We run away from the ice cream truck   purple sunset   J. Elephant   so i walk up to you with this   the Soul queen   so, you say that i do not speak   window   dear sweet old Ordinary   i am a Harp