Classic poem of the day
I am useless.
What I do is nothing,
What I think has no savour.
There is an almanac between the windows:
It is of the year when I was born.
My fellows call to me to join them,
They shout for me,
Passing the house in a great wind of vermilion banners.
They are fresh and fulminant,
They are indecent and strut with the thought of it,
They laugh, and curse, and brawl,
And cheer a holocaust of " Who comes firsts! " at the iron......
Member poem of the day
I have a compass, it's inside me.
I know it's there, but doesn't work.
It feels more stable down to the lake,
The lake grips arrow and moves it to the home.
The waves, they shush at me, the waves, they sing to me,
The masts of yachts repeating through vibrations
Keep on, go on, bring on!
The journey's long, but you don't have to go anywhere
I am paddling here and my oar is a golden ray of sun
You see the sparkling fishes t...
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