Classic poem of the day
a
Hylas, the world's perceptual scene,
And man no less, the axle beam
Of mobile sense, exist but as
A notion in the mind of God.
b
And Columbine contributed,
Uttering a wise complaint:
Pierrot upon my stressed breast —
The old moon in the new moon's arms.
c
The subtle fury of a winter dusk;
A chord dissolving in the brain —
All knowledge and ideality
Are borne in the lapse......
Member poem of the day
Looking down on himself through that dark shifting pool,
a wavering surface, an enticement, a thrill:
a man who could never emerge into this world,
a shadow, a snare lurking ahead
and a dread creature’s maw behind -
He turns, he stumbles, and he falls.
