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

5 March 1998

when Death first called my name

When death first called my name,
I knew not how to answer.
I looked around a little to see
if I was still alone or not,
then looked up at him and asked, "me?"
"Why of course," death replied.
And so I slowly stood up and
started following him.

Up a long flight of stairs he took me,
spiraling around the world.
We got half way up, then I turned to him
and said, "no, you can't be serious."
"Well," he replied, "we'll just see about that."
And that's when I knew that he wasn't joking.

I looked over the rail,
and thought for a while that I might try jumping.
But he only looked at me and laughed, and
said "go ahead; the fall will probably kill you."

 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