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

4 September 1994

As I Went Walking

as i climbed the Mountain
to enjoy its Beauty
i saw Scrawled
in a rock
near the side
of the path
a brief epithet
left by a dying traveler
wandering alone
through a lonely world

GOD IS DEAD
it screamed in
vengeful passion
trying to smite
the world for
the pain
and misery
it had given mankind

GOD IS DEAD
it bellowed in
proud rebellion
spitting upon the face
of an aging rabbi
who yearned only
to serve
his brothers
with Truth and Love

GOD IS DEAD
it cackled in
blind acceptance
of Modern Ideas
preaching freedom
from constraining
laws and traditions
which were
established in Ignorance

GOD IS dead
it began to proclaim
to the
majestic trees
on the
rolling hillside
. . .
when it saw
God's Hand
in the trees
and the hills
reaching out lovingly
in an effort to
comfort the World
in its troubles and sorrows

and Realized that
the pain and misery were intended to give strength
the Truth and Love to bring Peace
the laws and traditions to establish God's Kingdom
the trees and the hillside to shelter God's Hand
as it was turned away from around the world

 Here's one for ya.   go find yourself.   late again   skys passing wave raining clouds and offer healing sun   où es-tu   dim Mornings in the underground   memories   squirming on the bath room ceiling   open   the faces on the side walk pass me by   life and living   Song of Peace   from Time   the Mountain   My Father   so i painted a red cross on my chest   my living eulogy   my plastic house   alone again   frustrating   the Song of my heart as it grows and changes   In Dark Brick Dungeons   clanteba mortillia   Lonely is   my call to this Omnipotent generation:   friend (and, by now, even brother)   my PCC   Our Garden   Cognoscente   The Home   careFree   the Children   full moon   if I were a Painter   For You   Caterpillar March   Prison   As I Went Walking   Norwegian Cockatrice Lampposts   Departure   or   The Falling Apple   Peace