GRANT FRASER (JUNE 7 1964 / ABERDEEN)
We are in Space...
A poem rated overnight,
and missing worst of all...
an attempt to declare
something from the heartfelt,
yes that one, dormant in it's
dark black fluffy box!
for a heart can be cool or hot,
but never really that warm,
no not these days,
our radiance when we think
we're investing in the best things,
especially when it comes to what
money can buy,
we try - we try - we try...
but we still don't know how to reach
or control the thing that never lies,
until that is, the head gets a hold of it,
x-rated, deflated, gold plated,
almost three little yellow stars,
though - lost in internet space,
and the great big ones out there,
in nowhere.. are I suppose, the least
subjective places to stand - back!
to revisit that murky place inside,
where the great big meat ticker knows,
that when it is time,
that something truly real about it,
happened, and that it would've died,
without any fear, way out there, trying..
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.