Classic poem of the day
After the first powerful plain manifesto
The black statement of pistons, without more fuss
But gliding like a queen, she leaves the station.
Without bowing and with restrained unconcern
She passes the houses which humbly crowd outside,
The gasworks and at last the heavy page
Of death, printed by gravestones in the cemetery.
Beyond the town there lies the open country
Where, gathering speed, she acquires mystery,
The luminous self-possession of ships o......
Member poem of the day
Sometimes, I wonder how you recollect me in your stories a valuable lesson? as a fond memory perhaps? a flower garden in your journey of life? something that causes your beautiful soul to smile? sometimes, however, I wonder if you think about me at all.
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