Grant Laurence apeels to our poetic sensibilities: Remembrance

The other man's grass is always Gunter

Literati. Here is a nice change of pace. Beneath the surface, I envisioned as beneath the surface of the sand or sea, or emotions, or actions. Peeling back those layers. New to our site Grant Laurence has his own metaphor. Could bring tears to your eyes.


by Grant Laurence

Take me apart

Down to the core

The onion peeled

Stripped open and raw


A house full of mirrors

To where all doors are locked

As dust shows remembrance

For silenced clocks that have stopped


A child in the woods

Who screams out his name

To nature’s dark witness

When only shadows remain


As bloody war torn affections

Protected from view

The political party

A family brand-new


With a son to be proud of

And the other excused

The bitterest pill

For an ego so bruised


A bird without wings

In that invisible cage

With feathers all ruffled

And a beak full of rage


Where a blind man goes walking

Whilst the dogs are all fed

No hand set for guidance

With signposts unread


As time plays the healer

He never gives in

To my unbearable weakness

To your unforgivable sins

blind man






  1. Parisianne Modert says:

    “Rememberance” is as smoothly written as sipping aged bourbon and as emotionally ripping as bloody-jagged gulping of cut glass shards. Excellent !!!

  2. Michael Stang says:

    Bones are fodder for the fields of battle. We who walk the green are the ghosts.
    Amen Brother.

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