Veteran Poet - 1,190 Points (JUNE 7 1964 / ABERDEEN)

Leave A Bomb, Near The End... - Poem by GRANT FRASER

Where is your energy,
fruitful poet of the fleet?

For I have not quibbled,
over what could be an
unnecessary pasting of words,

Lit up near such fine embers,
Of a glowing red fireplace,
with an old clock
shitting seconds out
of it's mechanistic hole,

Should we require divine fingers
to take apart such lack of tact,
or disbelief, with a soul burning
so close,

it teaches us how to drown
and die in each other,

For 'Once upon a time'
ladies stuck woodbines,
between the lips of their quims
and lit them,

For money or fun,
what can I say?

War is never that far away,
from this kind of thing...

Comments about Leave A Bomb, Near The End... by GRANT FRASER

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, March 26, 2013

[Hata Bildir]