Vintage poetry stands the test of time; collections and anthologies of classic poems and enduring verses from eras past.
Many ways to make income, Dreams don't fade, though the days seem numb. Endless routines fill the endless hours, But inside still blooms those untapped powers.
By Vabout a year ago in Poets
LMonster Mash Dance Under the moon so cold and bright, the graveyard wakes on Halloween night. From tombs and shadows they all dash,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
There’s a light that flickers in the hall, though I swear I changed that bulb last spring. The air hums low, a nervous thing—
By Brie Boleynabout a year ago in Poets
I'm fine if you're fine. You took my breath so gently I didn’t notice that I haven't breathed the same since. I'm fine
By Dabout a year ago in Poets
When people called your name And you think are you the same Or the monsters in your head are playing the game Still there is left some smile in my face
By Karun about a year ago in Poets
At last I reached the evening masque A lofty fête in which to bask In the highest circles fit to task Lords and ladies, all abounds
By Ian Readabout a year ago in Poets
I’m miserable for adventure There’s lines that stain my brain Like every nation They exist only in our imagination They separate us from our true nature
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
You Do Not Know What You Ask... You Do Not Know What It Costs... Especially When... You are Not Ready. This is perhaps One of the Greatest Challenges in Today's World.
By H.E. Dr. Cody Dakota Wooten, COIE, DFM, DHMabout a year ago in Poets
My roots are my grandmother's kitchen, the smell of bread rising at dawn, her hands kneading patience into flour, teaching me that some things cannot be rushed.
By Tim Carmichaelabout a year ago in Poets
Thy soul shall dwell in shadowed depths, upon thy first taste of mine own blood... Pixabay-Photo by juliezimmi4
By Lamar Wigginsabout a year ago in Poets
I tried to whisper the warning… Child-sized hands tugging at grown sleeves, my voice a lantern with too little oil. “She is not who she seems,”
By Cadmaabout a year ago in Poets
Hello, I’m here to help. Memorize my name? It’s not important It’ll never be important, I’m here to help. I see you on your worst days
