vintage

Vintage poetry stands the test of time; collections and anthologies of classic poems and enduring verses from eras past.

old-fashioned
a man is screeching like an old radio I don’t know what I can do he starts in the morning when the birds’ chirps cease, he’s waking up with a loud yawn
By Moon Desert3 years ago in Poets
the secret view through the blinds
behind venetian blinds and mirrors I operate and hide my life thinking about success and failure in the darkest shade of grey
By Moon Desert3 years ago in Poets
You Can't Please Everyone No Matter How Hard You Try But you can sure Get Comfortable
I learned a long time ago no one can please anyone. No matter how much you want to avoid an quarrel shit happens you know. As time goes on, life never seems to be easy. But it can also seem reward, when you are the black sheep of any family.
By Emily Curry (Rising Phoenix)3 years ago in Poets
A Lesson Learned In Time
You touched the very fabric of my being. I don't know if you ever really knew the important place you have held, reserved in my heart. Each memory envelopes traces of you, weaving your essence, until it’s completely blended with mine. Every choice and experience you had, played a part of who I am, who I was to become and who I have fought tooth and nail to avoid becoming. Everything I love, embrace or hate about myself, a direct reaction, from a moment you had about yourself. My heart and mind have encapsulated moments, held away for safe keeping. Protected from the tainted hands of the world - outside of your loving protection. Music was and continues to be, the time machine, transporting me, moments at a time, back to the precious corners of my core - where you wait - Longing for me to remember.
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden3 years ago in Poets
When an art historian feels comfortable
When an art historian feels comfortable. They feel like they are with their people. They feel they could look at the same Renaissance-era painting for hours on end without growing tired of it.
By Miranda Monahan3 years ago in Poets
Mom, I Had a Bad Dream
Awakened by my own gasp in the middle of the night, I sat upright in my twin bed and took a moment to remember Where I was.
By Bugsy Watts3 years ago in Poets
Like A French Woman
I’m lying between celadon hospital walls under the white coolness of halogen lamps surrounded by the metal beds, tubes, and syringes
By Moon Desert3 years ago in Poets
My new weed man acting skept ain't answering the phone making us wait a trillion years before he never pulls up!
This hot mess ain't right now I am convinced my man is cheating I dialed his phone and some hoe bitch answered the fucking phone and tried to call me a fiend and the cunt slut bitch doesn't fucking know me from Adam
By Angelina F. Thomas3 years ago in Poets
Cats
Ginger furry skin Sits the chunky cat Delightfully sweet He purs and stares. The grey fat cat licks his coat wet Cleaning himself expertly
By Denise Larkin3 years ago in Poets
"Ma Lune"
I have been waiting for you. I have been longing for you. I anticipated your arrival. I predicted your presence. I knew you would make your way to me, eventually.
By Jamie LeFebvre 3 years ago in Poets
Renaissance Poem
Many a man has sought the depths of this gym, Assuming to pillage the gains from asunder. Vivid dreams abused have sought from this Earth
By Sid Aaron Hirji3 years ago in Poets
Lightning by Arthur Rimbaud (1873)
The work of man! THAT is the explosion that, now and again, illuminates the depths of my abyss. "Nothing is vanity! And, as for science, FORWARD HARCH!" That is the cry of the modern Ecclesiastes (for example, EVERYONE), for all the world to hear. And still the bodies of the wicked and slothful are piled up in the hearts of the People. Let the prayer gallop forward while the lightning roars.
By Tom Baker3 years ago in Poets