Classic poem of the day
Love, by sure proof I may call thee unkind,
That giv'st no better ear to my just cries;
Thou whom to me such my good turns should bind,
As I may well recount, but none can prize;
For when, nak'd boy, thou couldst no harbour find
In this old world, grown now so too too wise,
I lodged thee in my heart, and being blind
By nature born, I gave to thee mine eyes.
Mine eyes, my light, my heart, my life, alas,
If so great services may scorned be,
Yet let......
Member poem of the day
Lake mine previous
(stream of consciousness
imponderable) poetic efforts,
sans spiritus mundi, converse
sing a boot unfamiliar thread,
and ignored common
sense ne'er re: hearse
sing, asper William Butler Yeats,
aye went off deep end, perhaps
provoked at least une nurse
sis sear re: literary unlicensed violation,
and additionally one emphatic curse,
where mine poe whet
tick feet did immerse
for the methamphetamine ...
