vintage

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

The Mirror Cycle (Poetry)
I. The Mirror Isn’t Me (Philosophical — AABB) . I look into the mirror’s face, A quiet, silver, borrowed space. It copies me without a sound,
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast2 months ago in Poets
1 Year Later - I've Made It, No You Have - No I Have , No You, Truly You
Okay, you know what " I" am going to say right, that without, you, it couldn't have been possible! Without the things you have done, life isn't the way it was, and I will just have to say - trust and believe.
By 365poetry - "Holy Trinity":::: I Know The Cross, It's The Spirit Of Kharôn Latin Spelling (Charon) Translation "Fierce Brightness"2 months ago in Poets
"The Resident of Pain"
I am not a blank page, but the remains of a book which was not written and burned. To me no explanation wants... I have no presumptions about necessitating explanation. I am in this sound which has not softened. and the features that have not been made to smile. I do not tidy up my mess, but leave it a monument of what I have experienced. Any of my silences is a tale, and everything in my eyes turns the temporal and superficial. I am not a passer-by of pain... but a resident of it, I know it as I know my name... And I purchase it as picking up an ugly fate. I do not seek salvation, or raise my head towards the sky. I am the son of the heavy earth, and sister of primeval solitude. I already know something about darkness, and I shake my hands with it every single night and never tremble... and I know how to stare at it without asking to be lit... I am no beast that could be argued... but perceived... and feared.
By LUCCIAN LAYTH2 months ago in Poets
Climbing Out
Starting with nothing, the climb feels steep, Nights are heavy, and food isn't cheap. But a mind can shift, a thought can grow,
By V2 months ago in Poets
Night Time Stories
Grey puffs surround A shinning silver ornament This shiny piece represents the Brightest coin in the sky Dark pockets peak through clouds
By Lisa Pulliam2 months ago in Poets
Song Of Frost
Night’s fire no longer crackling Morning sun on limber saplings Bows taut, snap like gingerbread Wait for the dawn to get cracking
By Sean A.2 months ago in Poets
we used to howl at you. Honorable Mention in Letters to the Moon Challenge.
dear halo of hers, did she let her hair down tonight? is her duvet still grey? do her eyebrows still tell on her? i guess what i'm trying to say to you is that you see her in ways i don't anymore. you hover above her city the way you do mine, with pale indifference. you are the impartial witness to how her name still quivers in my mouth.
By Daniel K2 months ago in Poets
Mother Moon
Dearest Moon, You who wear silver wisdom upon your skin, You who pull the tides and cradle the secrets of women I write to you with reverence,
By Cadma2 months ago in Poets
Exhausted in Technicolor
I am tired in ways the sun can never warm, bones humming like streetlights that never turn off. They call it resilience and strength
By Cadma2 months ago in Poets
Dear Moon, Are You Listening?
Dear Moon, old lantern nailed into the sky, I write at last and wait for your reply. You’ve watched empires crumble into dust and stone,
By Milan Milic2 months ago in Poets
Born too late
I was born twenty years too late to save a woman already unraveling. the apparent and ignored firestorm I came into the world a decade after the warning signs,
By Cadma2 months ago in Poets
Feast
welcome and have a seat a year’s feast that’s hard to beat (2 x beet) many hours, many days working hard, and how it pays
By Lyrical Logic2 months ago in Poets