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

7 May 1995

go find yourself.
Look in the flower bed
in the discarded porridge of yestermorn,
Look in the sunset
or run around the world to make it a sun rise;
i mean it's gotta be some where... or is it how?
ah well
oh well
do well
doing well
or even if not then ya can fake it,
make it up,
hide and tell the world that it's all okay somehow.
Mama'll believe.
it's like she might really care ore something,
like maybe she's just watchin from behind
an sayin that alls well,
but all the same shes holdin up a cracked mirror
so that when ya turn around
you'll see for once and be surprised a little;
could be that that's why there's a crack in it:
cause it's so old, an hey -- it's reality.

 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