frogcircus.org

the poetry of Charles Fry

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2015–

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2009–2013

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2007–2002

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2002–1999

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1999–1997

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1997–1995

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1995–1994

stone

1994–1993

23 August 1997

canticle to my soul

Waiting and waiting
I'm waiting for you
as time goes waiting on
and the sand goes waiting
down my waiting hourglass
in which I am waiting prisoner.

Hoping and hoping
I'm hoping for you
as my life goes hoping on
and my blood goes hoping
through my hoping heart
to which I am hoping prisoner.

Dying and dying
I'm dying for you
as the light goes dying on
and the sun sets dying
behind this dying earth
on which I am dying prisoner.

 la vie me déchire   For all the words I didn't write   My two calloused hands   Hold me in your arms so tightly;   When springtime comes   soft, sweet and warm   the water of life   these are the times   geraniums   sweet of all sweetness   when Death first called my name   Arms so pitiful   Redemption   The tears in your eyes tear me more than my own.   Oh Seigneur   A toi, l'humanité   flesh of mortal man, immortal woman   again an unknown stranger.   canticle to my soul   My tender heart dilates with each   emancipation