Silver Star - 3,663 Points (JUNE 7 1964 / ABERDEEN)

Grave - Poem by GRANT FRASER

Deeper still,
more than
six foot under,
is this resurrect?

I mean do you get hard,
always thinking about it,

a tee-pee on the centre
of your death spread....

a word must have dug
itself out, somehow,

pared, or just plain scared,
to feel or tell it just like it is,

image bound,
it's such a bastard

just to not know,
what it really is,
that thought paints
by sheer accident,

in life's destruction
or construction,

complexity's umbilical
feeds you somewhere

is the past, so corrupted,
that we consign words,
what break into?

should you bleed
like a glacial light
out onto others,

nostalgia's velvet
bag, with a hard shape,
that one doesn't escape...

unless we dig
our own graves,
from here on...

surface for all your worth,
is like a burial
by the time the worms
crawl out,
or seize the light of ways,
unheard of...

Topic(s) of this poem: poem

Comments about Grave by GRANT FRASER

  • Jez Brul (2/19/2018 7:24:00 AM)

    Great poem....vivid imagery.....Regards..10, +++++++ (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »

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

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, September 13, 2017

[Report Error]