Classic poem of the day
SPRING ONCE SAID to the nightingale,
" I mean to give you birds a ball;
Pray, ma'am, ask the birdies all,
The birds and birdies, great and small. "
Soon they came from bush and tree,
Singing sweet their song of glee,
Each one fresh from its cozy nest,
Each one dressed in its Sunday best.
Cuckoo and wren, they danc'd for life,
The raven waltzed with the yellowbird's wife;
The awkward owl and the bashful jay,
Wished ......
Member poem of the day
At first
I do not hear the bangs
over my music.
I turn and see a boy
pressed against a corner
aiming his phone at me
tapping the screen to make
gunshots.
He probably does not know
that I do not like my music
interrupted by gunfire
or that a week ago
a club called Pulse
was filled with stopped hearts
or that I am gay
and will be going to a bar later
hoping to leave alive with
somebody and will settle ......
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