Treasure Island

Kenneth Patchen

(13 December 1911 - 8 January 1972 / Ohio)

Creation


Wherever the dead are there they are and
Nothing more. But you and I can expect
To see angels in the meadowgrass that look
Like cows -
And wherever we are in paradise
in furnished room without bath and
six flights up
Is all God! We read
To one another, loving the sound of the s’s
Slipping up on the f’s and much is good
Enough to raise the hair on our heads, like Rilke and Wilfred Owen

Any person who loves another person,
Wherever in the world, is with us in this room -
Even though there are battlefields.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

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

Read poems about / on: hair, world, god, angel

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 (Creation by Kenneth Patchen )

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. Aasiba, gajanan mishra
  2. Coming from, gajanan mishra
  3. I'd pluck the stars for flowers, Mark Heathcote
  4. A necessity, gajanan mishra
  5. Sarakara aapananka dwarare, gajanan mishra
  6. Man: A proud species, Pranab K. Chakraborty
  7. ONly needed, hasmukh amathalal
  8. Govt at people's door, gajanan mishra
  9. Nothing Going On, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  10. Her Shoebox Of Poetry, louis rams

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]