Hans Ostrom

Silver Star - 3,168 Points (1954 / California)

Hans Ostrom Poems

321. A Photograph Of The Day-Shift: North Star Mine,20 June 1938 10/23/2007
322. Fossil Of A Wing 10/19/2007
323. A Hod-Carrier Reflects 10/19/2007
324. For Cafeteria Workers 2/5/2009
325. And Now, Whether 10/12/2007
326. How To Be A Cat 5/29/2008
327. For Librarians 2/18/2008
328. Langston Hughes And Barack Obama 1/20/2009
329. How To Write A Poem: A Poem 5/11/2009
330. Langston Hughes 10/19/2007

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Best Poem of Hans Ostrom

Langston Hughes

In a wilderness of reasons
not to write, he wrote. Just wrote.
Each word was the belief
in the possibility of the next.
He kept it going.

Mostly his days and words talk
quietly, though he could rant and rage.
Mention is what his voices usually do
in a world of self-convinced noise.

Truth mentioned is a sweet brass
note you’ll never forget. Writing,
Langston showed writing to be
an unashamed act, one of the few
in a shameful, shaming world. Words

grin. Words reside. Words throw
a meal together for unexpected friends,
make a garden...

Read the full of Langston Hughes

Hands Of The Wind

Inside a pyramid, its reason:
A former king parched like a leaf
And now impervious to grief,
Bacilli, and a shift of season.

Dust of a million builders’ bones
Informs the wind with grit, lingers,
Then scrapes with unbelieving fingers
Familiar blocks of hand-hewn stone.

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