Classic poem of the day
Fire,
Fire, Lord!
Fire gonna burn ma soul!
I ain't been good,
I ain't been clean —
I been stinkin', low-down, mean.
Fire,
Fire, Lord!
Fire gonna burn ma soul!
Tell me, brother,
Do you believe
If you wanta go to heaben
Got to moan an' grieve?
Fire,
Fire, Lord!
Fire gonna burn ma soul!
I been stealin',
Been tellin' lies,
Had more women
Than Pharaoh......
Member poem of the day
In the shade of the broad-leafed avocado
the aged men spend their time
in the naming of teas.
Yellow maté of their own mountains.
From the lowlands sweet rice tea,
thick with the taste of heavy air.
Teas from the foreign shop on the square:
Souchong, Gen Mai Cha, Earl Grey
in blue tins, Darjeeling in green.
In the naming of such teas the tongue
caresses unfamiliar lands, to smell
them is to know their earth and sky.
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