Treasure Island

GRANT FRASER

(JUNE 7 1964 / ABERDEEN)

A flash - bulb!


Everything is as simple
as the photograph,
that we see with our eyes,
where mind differentiates,
and complexity turns on
everybody,

I cannot shed any light
on whatever it is,
that at any moment,
I have encountered
all and seen beyond,

if not past something...

in the moment I feel
a natural drunkenness,
a great embroidery in
everything - even dying!

there is nothing but self,
turning back on all those
other selves that clung
to so much infinite night,

A moment where one is
seen to fall through eternity
with as little purpose as
a spark of light gone out!

but how can I not see,
the composite of it all,
holding me up to the ocean,
showing me how to drown!
or willing me on...

space and all those far away
stars gleam like hundreds
of tiny fixtures, that I will never
come to see with my own eyes,

but I know you exist
like the mystery of human kind,

and the mind, especially that,
so absolutely spanking new,
yet festering by human domination...

Submitted: Tuesday, January 07, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, January 07, 2014
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