Treasure Island

oskar hansen


Digits and Words


Manuscript page 100, a digit of colossal abstraction,
standing alone, inconsequential, just another zero.
When I was five I could count to hundred, stood by
the window counting people walking by.
It was a small street and not many walked there, so
I learned to cheat, counting people twice.
Sundays was especially difficult I had to count people
three time, when I first saw them, when they were by
the window and when they disappeared.
Then suddenly I was six and could read, and count to
thousand, but by then I lost interest in numbers and
fell in love with words that could create visible beauty.
But there is no getting away from numbers when my
first poem was published they paid me 5 coronas.

Submitted: Saturday, November 23, 2013
Edited: Saturday, November 23, 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 (Digits and Words by oskar hansen )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

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. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. To My Ever Faithful Elaine, David McLansky
  2. OUR NAMES اسماءنا, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  3. OUR NAMES, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  4. World News, Tony Adah
  5. OUT OF THINGS, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  6. Democracy, Akhtar Jawad
  7. To My Sister With Love, Rubaba Mmahajia Rahma Sabtiu
  8. A LIAR الكذاب, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  9. The New Life: Stage Six Part One for Ma.., Daniel Brick
  10. Condolences, Elia Michael

Poem of the Day

poet John Gay

Friendship, as love, is but a name,
Save in a concentrated flame;
And thus, in friendships, who depend
On more than one, find not one friend.

A hare who, in a civil way,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]