oskar hansen


oskar hansen Poems

361. Ecuador 9/4/2013
362. Educated Stranger 7/20/2010
363. Edward Hopper...Painter 12/9/2014
364. Electrification 1/25/2015
365. Elegy 9/20/2013
366. Elvira The Almond Tree 3/12/2013
367. Emerald Isle 5/26/2011
368. Empires 8/18/2010
369. End Game 3/24/2011
370. End Of A Life 1/18/2011
371. End Of Austerity 10/18/2011
372. End Of Line 7/13/2009
373. End Of Politics 5/27/2014
374. Endings 6/20/2013
375. Endless Is The Road 6/4/2015
376. English Rose 6/18/2010
377. Envy 6/2/2009
378. Epic Joureny 3/21/2011
379. Epigram 2/23/2009
380. Epigram 8/14/2012
381. Epigram 10 7/27/2013
382. Epigram 3 9/23/2013
383. Epigram 5 4/2/2012
384. Epigram 6 10/31/2013
385. Epigram And Sunryu 8/9/2012
386. Epiphany 12/20/2010
387. Equine And May 5/30/2011
388. Equines 10/16/2014
389. Erection 8/19/2009
390. Escapees 2/7/2013
391. Eternal Screen 6/25/2009
392. Europe's Problem 12/23/2010
393. Evenhere, In My Valley 12/2/2008
394. Evening In Paradise 6/12/2012
395. Everyday Life And Chocolate 9/3/2010
396. Ex. Seafarer 5/28/2015
397. Execution 7/29/2009
398. Exile 2/10/2010
399. Expanse Of Time 6/15/2015
400. Exploitation Of A Name 12/18/2013
Best Poem of oskar hansen

...And It Was Her Summer

…And It Was Her Summer


“Go back to the children’s home, she said I have no work and
can’t afford to keep you” Late June afternoon she sat on a bench
with a man I didn’t know. The man smiled I didn’t like him, but
took the coins he gave me to buy an ice –cream for; I was still
hanging about so mother got up and slapped me across the face.
”Get lost you stupid boy! ” My face was burning I threw the coins
into the lake and ran away. When I stopped running it was night
and I could see sheep in a field, I was tired and cold, thought of
seeking shelter in a...

Read the full of ...And It Was Her Summer

Lady And The Tramp

The Lady and the Tramp

I took the bus from Ellesmere Port to Birkenhead,
from there the underground to Liverpool, walked
to Hanover Street; took a rickety lift up four floors
to a studio where Miss Summers tried to teach me
to speak posh English. A hopeless task my Norse
accent refused to be relegated clung to my throat
like phlegm, the size of a jelly fish, and anyway,

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