Treasure Island

Pierre Rausch

(24.01.1982 / Luxembourg)

Anaheim


That the stature should dimmish
His blouse draps himself
It is only barkeepers who can say
That I adore Anaheim

What brains she possessed
Read nonsense
She owned the facts

Admiration to be feared
There is nothing to be feared
But to pull the stop
And rain all summer

You plaied the mouse-trap
With brown stockings
Without suspecting Anaheim
The stage isn't controlled

Hold on to me
It blew away
But my head just spins
Is a shop over the way

Will caracter belong to that class
Will complete the sketch later on

Submitted: Friday, August 09, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Listen to this poem:

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

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?

Comments about this poem (Anaheim by Pierre Rausch )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Unintentional Existence: Repository Citr.., Onyekachukwu Vincent Onyeche
  2. Friendzone (Rap song), Clint Kingham
  3. The Marché Aux Puces And The Jardin Des .., William Daryl Hine
  4. The Lake, William Daryl Hine
  5. The Copper Beech, William Daryl Hine
  6. On This Rock, William Daryl Hine
  7. Last Words, William Daryl Hine
  8. Echo, William Daryl Hine
  9. Don Juan In Amsterdam, William Daryl Hine
  10. A Thousand Words, William Daryl Hine

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]