Treasure Island

GRANT FRASER

(JUNE 7 1964 / ABERDEEN)

The plug hole


There's something
about the plug hole,
that vital inner place,

while everything
plaintively dies,

the plug hole,

this place is absolutely
everyone's at some moment in time,

I mean - it's sucked away - away,

and so dry on the high street
of furtive eyes,

trying to shake out some idea,

that the clock is turning back,

or that love is here and finally
rehearsing,

yes, the mind squats close to
the plug hole,
trying not to feel the vital
force -

of gravity pulling on it,

not I! not this, not yet!

but off course, there is courage,

for you to scream out still,

ah! love, when did you ever love
anybody or everybody, anything,

all at once,

the word spun from your very lips
and skimmed through the air,
without resound or rebound,

fell empty among a horde
of weary feet,

I caught the face, the look,
of another's self torture,
but didn't feel it!

inabilities to feel,
is what I feel i must have,

long range pursuit to the end
of my years,

and of course - the plug hole,

will be our equality,

when it's all over...

Submitted: Thursday, October 10, 2013
Edited: Friday, October 11, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



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?

improve

Comments about this poem (The plug hole by GRANT FRASER )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Rosicrucianism, Naveed Khalid
  2. Harvest Moon I, Naveed Khalid
  3. Elikal, dr.k.g.balakrishnan kandangath
  4. Harvest Moon II, Naveed Khalid
  5. The Red Moon, Naveed Khalid
  6. Tinnitus - New York Style, Geoffrey Fafard
  7. Love's Metaphor, Naveed Khalid
  8. Aurora, Naveed Khalid
  9. Mythology, Naveed Khalid
  10. Gifts Of Heredity, RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Poem of the Day

poet Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet John Todhunter

 

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]