vintage

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

Value Of My Imagination
In the misty fair of a fantasy town, O traveler, lost, yet profound. How many dreams have I gently tied, To fleeting moments where hopes reside.
By Mahendra Kumar Beheraabout a year ago in Poets
Unknown Unnamed Poet
I am an unknown, unnamed poet, A picture painted from the heart's quiet. Adorned with ornaments of rhyme and flair, A greedy soul for words and their care.
By Mahendra Kumar Beheraabout a year ago in Poets
Tea and Rain
Today, we invite the rain in for a tea, Hide beneath the warmth that we can see. The drops dance on the glass with fun,
By Mahendra Kumar Beheraabout a year ago in Poets
Memories
Maybe some people are better as memories Sometimes they’re just not that interested in you or me Let them flee If they care
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
With Ever-Confident-Couth
There rests another reflection. Is it an obtuse obsession, or an eye that sees the art in the ordinary? Many of these books are especially introspective and introverted,
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Milanese Nights. Top Story - January 2025.
5 Jan 2025, Night Milanese nights Waiting for you, Feels endless I think about you- Time’s restless; *** I fill the void
By Cyrusabout a year ago in Poets
Ghosts-2
Ghosts of future memories haunt me Staring off in the distance As tells from my scryne tingle down my spine as they exit my mind
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
I Love July
i love you july the heat of the sun lifting our spirits, enlightening our lives. The meadows are full of colors. The problem is, dear July, that we live in Scotland.
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
The Process
I write my soul To process things outside my control Not everything felt is good It may feel good But some are just a welt
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Birthday Cupcakes. Top Story - January 2025.
Intoxicated by the harsh reality, I had almost forgotten that my birthday was approaching. I had bought cupcakes to bring to work,
By Moon Desertabout a year ago in Poets
Oblivious
Sometimes it’s better to be oblivious Than to be fully aware of the insidiousness that surrounds us Sometimes it’s better to shut one’s eyes
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
History’s Tapestry—Teaches
Excuse after excuse. Recuse after blood-drenched recuse. Pardon after soul-raping pardon. When will it stop? When will erasure stop? How many bodies, how many lives must be wilfully, strategically, unjustifiably broken—ceased? Cyclical cynicism after catastrophic cyclical cynicism. Yet—humanity fails. Humanity fails—to learn. Learn the life-sacrificing lesson that history's treacherous tapestry—teaches.
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets