Classic poem of the day
Renowned Spencer lye a thought more nye
To learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont lye
A little neerer Spenser, to make roome
For Shakespeare in your threefold, fowerfold Tombe.
To lodge all foure in one bed make a shift
Until Doomesdaye, for hardly will a fift
Betwixt this day and that by Fate be slayne,
For whom your Curtaines may be drawn againe.
If your precedency in death doth barre
A fourth place in your sacred sepulcher,
Under this......
Member poem of the day
Cycling downhill very fast
on a bicycle made of wood,
trees and houses rushing past.
Every breath could be my last,
wooden bicycles aren't that good,
cycling downhill very fast.
The front wheel shaking like a mast
in a storm, a raging flood,
trees and houses rushing past.
I think of wounds, elastoplast
and losing several pints of blood,
cycling downhill very fast.
In my face an icy bla......
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