Treasure Island

alaa hussain

(01/01/1965 / kuwait)

how


If goods went bads driven
hear your words impressed to see
your actions I feel I am not butcher
know I bad or river died with
cowards exiles Army Forever O Mother
of tales comes to crow's nest birds stupid stupidity and fear are two kinds
inseparable in herit each other to be life misery permanently and in
every morning delete a note book full
and on the last page, and margins end
studied just words remaining on
the heels of cigarettes and smoke
stubbornness sedition all not to religion and Testament secretary
terrorism and play ground share
bread with poor and slowly into the
sky fly bread and terrorism and poor

Submitted: Tuesday, April 02, 2013

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 (how by alaa hussain )

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. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Spirit of the Hearth, Lynn Anne Brown
  2. DANDELION, Lilly Emery
  3. The Moon In Her Eyes, Lilly Emery
  4. sometimes its difficoult to live in myself, cristobal Benjumea
  5. Beautiful Mistake, Noorjehan Khan
  6. A house divided, Doyen Lingua
  7. Just Be There, Ronell Warren Alman
  8. A COFFEE KETTLE FOR A CUP OF COFFEE غلاي.., MOHAMMAD SKATI
  9. Listen And Learn, Lilly Emery
  10. On getting dressed, Mark Heathcote

Poem of the Day

poet Robert Burns

When biting Boreas, fell and doure,
Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r;
When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r,
Far south the lift,
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet Jessie Pope

 
[Hata Bildir]